Gone Away

by Marjorie Moore

  Patricia closed the door behind the doctor and made her way slowly up the stairs to Miss Hanny’s room.

  “I’m much more comfortable now,” Miss Hanny announced as Patricia entered the room. She certainly looked better; the drawn look had left her face and a slight tinge of color had returned to her cheeks. “The bandage is a support. I always think that Dr. Brown’s manners are quite the worst thing about him, but he is a good doctor and that is far more important.”

  “Of course,” Patricia murmured in assent, as she drew up a chair. “He’s a busy man, and I suppose that gives him little time for social niceties.”

  “Perhaps it’s just as well.” Miss Hanny sighed. “Dear me, this is troublesome. What am I going to do, with Maimie due in a week?” There was a break in her voice. “I had wanted everything to be so nice for her arrival.”

  “But surely it will be all right?” Patricia insisted with an assurance she was far from feeling. It might have been all right had it been anyone but Miss Hanny, but she knew so well the difficulties her employer would create—some true, but most of them imaginary. To her old-fashioned mind, nothing could be left to servants; everything, to the most trivial detail, had to be personally supervised and dealt with. “I can do quite a lot for you before I leave,” Patricia added hopefully.

  “The dinner party the night they arrive, the shopping, the flowers ... their room—I shan’t be able to get upstairs to see it; everything will be chaos. I’ve told you you can’t leave important things like that to maids,” Miss Hanny asserted querulously.

  “But Jennings ... she’s been with you over twenty years,” Patricia reminded Miss Hanny with a touch of impatience. “Surely by now she knows how you like things done?”

  “I’ve never left things to Jennings. I have always supervised my house myself,” Miss Hanny said primly, “and do you suggest that I send a maid to meet my niece and her husband at the station?” she concluded acidly.

  “Naturally you can’t do that.” Patricia felt the warm color mount-her cheeks. “But Maimie would understand if you didn’t meet her.”

  “How can I let her arrive with no greeting, after a year’s absence too?” Miss Hanny’s tone showed her indignation. “And my nephew, is that the way to receive him?”

  “But it’s inevitable ... an unfortunate occurrence. They’ll understand, surely,” Patricia ventured.

  “My dear,” Miss Hanny laid her slim blue-veined hand on Patricia’s knee, “I realize that you’re wanted at home, but if you could remain just a few days longer ... once I’ve welcomed them and they understand the unfortunate position, of course I wouldn’t delay you ... it will only mean four days.” She leaned forward, gaining confidence as she enlarged upon her request. “Those few days would make such a difference to me—just to get things ready here and meet them in my place. You could leave the day they arrive, if only you’d greet them for me and bring them here.”

  “I don’t know ... I’ll have to think ...” Patricia passed her hand wearily across her forehead. Was this to be the result of her planning? Was she, of all people, to be the one to meet Kay upon his arrival in England? She rose to her feet and, turning her back on Miss Hanny, walked to the window. She couldn’t bear her companion to see her face, to be aware of the anguish her simple request had evoked.

  Well?” The other’s eager voice broke the silence.

  “I’m thinking ... it’s difficult ... my arrangements.” Patricia broke off, at a loss for a reasonable excuse. She’d have to answer soon or Miss Hanny would think she was crazy. After all, Miss Hanny didn’t realize that the postponement of her departure was a mere detail, that it really didn’t matter if she didn’t go home at all! She must refuse, she must!

  “My dear ... you’re so long making up your mind, I do hope you won’t refuse me.”

  Patricia swung round, a refusal ready on her lips, but somehow, her companion’s tragic eyes arrested the words. Suddenly she looked old; her usually well-groomed hair was rumpled from contact with her pillow and hung in grey, untidy streaks around her face. Her color had deserted her, and, except for a slight flush across her high cheekbones, her skin looked colorless and fined; but it was the beseeching expression in her eyes which seemed to touch the depths of Patricia’s heart. Miss Hanny might be hard, gaunt, and unapproachable at times, but for Maimie nothing was too much, for Maimie she would sacrifice all she possessed.

  “I’ve been thinking ...” Patricia stumbled over the phrase. “If you want me ... if it will ease your mind, I’ll stay.” She crossed quickly to the door, fearing that Miss Hanny might detain her. “Excuse me now. I must make some arrangements ... write to my father.” She forced a smile. “You don’t mind? I’ll be back soon.”

  “Of course, my dear. I quite understand, you must get in touch with your father at once. Thank you, Patricia. I shall never forget your kindness. You can’t realize what a load you’ve lifted from my mind.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Ian pressed his foot on the accelerator of his car until the speedometer needle wavered, then touched sixty. He was glad that Patricia’s call had come at an uncrowded hour of the day, as the usually congested London road was comparatively empty, and his progress unimpeded. His thoughts raced in time with the fast moving engine. It was so unlike Patricia to beg his immediate presence, and her usually controlled voice had sounded strained and unnatural on the telephone. What could have happened to upset her? What unforeseen occurrence had caused her to make such an urgent demand on him? Ian’s hands closed more tightly on the steering wheel. With mechanical movements he steered his car through the outskirts of London, but even the congested traffic left him oblivious of the fact that he was nearing his destination, and it was with a feeling of mild surprise that he found himself applying the brakes in front of Miss Hanny’s house.

  Almost as he touched the bell, Patricia herself threw open the door and drew him inside. “Miss Hanny is upstairs. No one will disturb us. Come in here!” She addressed him prosaically. She ushered him into a small sitting room leading from the entrance lounge. Ian sensed Patricia’s agitation, even more apparent now than it had been on the telephone. Her manner was anxious, and her voice low pitched and tremulous, totally different from her customary cool and collected air. Following her into the room and, scarcely waiting for her to close the door, Ian spoke. “My dear, what on earth’s the matter?” He tried to make his question sound light and casual. “You sounded so tense on the phone, and you’ve dragged me in here with such a mysterious air, and without even a proper greeting!” he added with an effort at levity.

  “I’m sorry. Patricia smiled wanly. “It was awfully selfish of me to have bothered you to come up.” She sighed. “I suppose I could have waited until I saw you tomorrow as we’d arranged but I rang you without thinking. I felt so appalled, I just had to do something.” Her eyes clouded. “I acted thoughtlessly. I do hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Don’t be silly. You know I’m only too glad to come and rather pleased that you asked me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “Even then ... that doesn’t allow me to make a convenience of you...”

  “Tell me Pat, what has upset you ... what has happened?” Ian reiterated.

  “Miss Hanny has had an accident. She’s twisted her ankle. It’s nothing serious, but she has to rest for a week.”

  Ian stared at Patricia with ill-concealed amazement. “Surely ... surely you’re not—you’re not upset about that?” he asked incredulously.

  “Of course not,” Patricia exclaimed impatiently. “I’ve told you it’s nothing, but it means everything to me. You see she’s tied to her room ... she can’t get about at all. She had so much to do in preparation for Maimie and Seymour’s arrival. That’s unimportant; it didn’t matter ... but she can’t even meet them, there is no one else to do it so I’ve promised to go to the station in her stead,” she ended in a despairing tone.

  “You’ve promised to meet Maimie and Seymour!” Ian jumped up fro
m his position on the arm of Patricia’s chair and stood before her. “You haven’t undertaken to do anything so absurd! Why ... it’s the very thing you’ve planned to avoid ... the prospect you’ve feared and hated.” His voice was full of concern. “You can’t! The thing’s preposterous! I never heard anything so ridiculous,” Ian burst out indignantly.

  It was now Patricia’s turn to be the calmer of the two. “Sit down again Ian and listen to reason,” she suggested gently.

  “Sit down and let that old lady make a cat’s paw of you? Not if I know it!” Ian thrust his hands deeply in his pockets and paced the narrow confines of the room. “She had no right to ask you. You had decided to leave in a couple of days, the thing was all arranged and settled ... surely Maimie and Seymour can find their way from Victoria to here without losing themselves?” he added contemptuously. “Why should you meet them?”

  “Ian ... do stop walking about like a caged lion while I try to make matters clear to you,” Patricia interrupted.

  “There’s nothing to make clear, it’s all as plain as a pike-staff. You’re too good-natured, and Miss Hanny just takes advantage of it.” Ian stopped abruptly in his stride and confronted his companion. “Why did you say you would? Why should you undertake to do something you’ll loathe and detest?”

  Patricia pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’ve let myself in for this, and I’ve got to go through with it. You don’t think it was crazy of me to ring you up on such a pretext, do you?” She smiled apologetically. “I felt so awful after I’d committed myself, I had to talk it over with someone. You were the only person who would understand, in fact the only friend I have. I feel heaps better already,” she admitted naively.

  “I’m glad, Pat. Naturally I understand. That’s what I’m for, isn’t it, to help with your troubles?” He smiled reassuringly. “I wish I could help, but it doesn’t seem that I can do anything.”

  “Of course you can’t, but you’ve listened to me, and you can’t imagine how different I feel now I’ve got it off my chest.” Patricia laughed. “I liked your agitation; that helped a lot.”

  “I felt plenty of that, and annoyance, too,” Ian admitted, then continued, “How long are you staying on?”

  “Not a moment longer than I need!” Patricia retorted. “I’ll remain to get everything ready, meet them at the station, and as soon as I’ve conveyed them safely here I’m off! They arrive about midday; I shall get the late afternoon train north,” she concluded.

  Ian took a cigarette from his case and smoked in silence. Poor Pat! What a rotten deal she was having! There were times when his own disappointments sank into insignificance when he considered the treatment which she had received from the hands of an unkind fate. And now this. It really was the last straw; and yet Pat, with the same fortitude she had always shown, was facing this fresh blow with squared shoulders. If only he could help. But there was only one way he could help today—by reuniting her to the man she loved—and that was impossible. Seymour Warinder was out of reach, utterly and for ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Patricia sat back in her employer’s car while the chauffeur threaded his way through the dense traffic in Knightsbridge. With eyes half-closed she went over in her mind all the purchases she had been asked to make. The provisions, fruit, cakes ... yes, those were all done; the flowers, special ones which Miss Hanny remembered that Maimie had always liked, those were also ordered.

  Patricia’s glance wandered idly to the pedestrians but her thoughts were elsewhere. She went over again in her mind all the futile efforts she had made in order to avoid an encounter with Kay, yet here she was, still with Miss Hanny, and Kay and Maimie were due to arrive home the very next day!

  The chauffeur opened the door of the car while Patricia, carefully clasping her flowers, ran up the steps to the front door. She inserted her key and entered the hall. For a moment she stood stockstill on the threshold; then, scarcely aware of her action, slowly closed the heavy door behind her. Her eyes, wide with apprehension, wandered round the familiar hall suddenly and so unexpectedly littered with luggage: small bags and cases, generously adorned with an array of colored labels. Maimie and Kay had arrived! It must be; there could be no other explanation. They themselves had forgone the convention of being met. Patricia’s presence had been, unnecessary, her staying on useless, her suffering for nothing. As in a nightmare she stumbled toward the stairway. She wasn’t wanted now. Her whole being cried out for escape. If only she could get to her room, collect her things, and slip from the house unnoticed, unseen! She’d have kept her promise and done her duty; her movements were her own affair now, and the desire to escape from a meeting with Kay was the only emotion of which she was wholly conscious.

  “Pat! Oh, how lovely to see you!”

  Patricia heard flying feet on the stairs behind her, then felt Maimie’s arms grasping her in a tight hug. “I couldn’t believe it when Auntie said you were here ... it seemed too good to be true. The very person I most wanted to see! It’s lovely ... wonderful!” Maimie gasped out the words, and, still embracing, she continued, “Auntie said you were out, you’d be back soon. I thought I heard the door.” She stood back and appraised Patricia. “You look just the same ... the same dear old Pat. Oh, darling, you can’t imagine how I’ve longed for you. I’ll never forgive you for not sending me an address.” She laughed excitedly. “Perhaps it was my fault. I didn’t have any address myself for you to send to.”

  “Maimie ... my flowers ... you’ll crush them to pieces ...” Patricia exclaimed in an effort to appear calm, and in order to stem the feeling of impotence that threatened to overwhelm her. It was too late; there was no escape. She had been spared the ordeal of waiting for this meeting. But wasn’t this worse? To be plunged into this reunion ... to be brought face to face with the man she most dreaded to meet without having time to armor herself.

  “Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Maimie’s mouth pouted in the manner with which Patricia had been so familiar. “I guessed you’d be surprised to find us here already.” She laughed. “I couldn’t face a touching welcome with Auntie on the station platform; there might have been an awkward outburst too; so I thought we’d fly from Marseilles.” She prattled on, and Patricia was grateful for the interval for thought Maimie’s chatter afforded her. “Of course, I didn’t know that Auntie wouldn’t have been there anyway, that providence was keeping her away. I wish I’d known; I wouldn’t nave troubled to fly then,” she ended regretfully.

  “Didn’t you enjoy flying then?” Patricia asked, hoping to encourage the conversation. Any pretext—anything—would serve that might gain her time, time to collect her thoughts, time to prepare for the ordeal awaiting her.

  It was awful; bumpy, and visibility about nil!” Maimie turned away from Patricia and glanced down the stairs at the door leading to the drawing room she had just left. When she turned back to her friend, a frown creased her forehead. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk. I’ve loads to say to you, and if Auntie hears us she will call us into the drawing room. I must—I just must talk to you alone before she finds you’re back.”

  “Come into my room, then, while I take my things off.” There was a note of weariness in Patricia’s voice that Maimie was quick to detect.

  “What’s the matter, Pat?” Maimie slipped her arm through her friend’s as they mounted the stairs. “You seem different ... quieter somehow ... you don’t look the same either,” she added, peering into her companion’s face. “You look so white and sort of upset,” she added with concern.

  “I’m perfectly all right.” Patricia entered her bedroom and, putting down her flowers, began to remove her outdoor things. “Isn’t it a wretched day?” she added irrelevantly.

  “Yes, awful.” Maimie perched herself on the edge of the bed. “This used to be my room. It never looked like this when I had it ... it was always so untidy you couldn’t see the furniture for the litter. Goodness, aren’t I glad I’ve left it for ever!” she concluded fervent
ly.

  Patricia swung round from the cupboard where she was hanging her coat. “Are you really? You’re happy, Maimie, really happy?” There was no hiding the urgency of her question, and Maimie looked at her friend in surprise before replying.

  “Do you really mind so much? Yes, I am happy—gloriously, ecstatically happy! I didn’t think you’d care so much, but then, you were always much nicer to me than I deserved,” she admitted reminiscently.

  “I don’t think so.” Patricia turned back to the cupboard and carefully arranged her coat on a hanger. She had no doubt of the veracity of Maimie’s reply but, whatever she had said, her face supplied the true answer. Patricia had never seen Maimie look so radiant ... yes, radiant was the only word to describe her, her sparkling eyes and flushed face, her general air of added confidence. Her approaching maternity too, had touched her with kind fingers, and her face had filled out like a flower opening to the sun.

  Patricia crossed to her dressing table and combed through the soft waves of her hair. If only she could get a hold on herself, sort out her emotions!

  “Do hurry up and do your hair. I’m bursting to talk to you.” Maimie’s eager voice recalled Patricia back to reality.

  Yes, she wasn’t scared any more; she’d meet Kay face to face, conceal the love which filled her heart, challenge him with her indifference.

  “Light the gas fire and let’s chat in comfort.” Maimie gave an exaggerated shiver.

  Patricia knelt on the floor and applied a match to the fire, while Maimie pulled up a chair.

  “Come and sit here and I’ll sit on the stool,” Maimie suggested.

  Patricia did as she was bid, and Maimie leaned back against the chair with her arm thrown across her friend’s knees. “I don’t know quite where to start, I’ve so much to tell you.”