by Leo McNeir
Strangely, the Accident and Emergency unit was not the bedlam that Anne anticipated. There were certainly people waiting for treatment, but the atmosphere was calm and purposeful. At the nurses’ station two women and one man were checking papers. Anne walked over and waited till they looked up.
“I’m here about Marnie Walker.”
The male nurse glanced down at a list.
“Ah yes, you’re expected.”
Anne was about to protest, but bit her tongue.
“Can you tell me how she is? Can I see her?”
“Your sister is in theatre. When she comes out she’ll be transferred to Obs and Gynae.”
Anne was bewildered. “But I thought she’d been involved in an accident.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how you got that impression. She’s suffered a miscarriage, and there are complications. I can’t tell you more than that. Excuse me.”
He turned to reply to one of the other nurses and became drawn into a discussion. Anne moved away and took a seat. A miscarriage. The blood on the carpet. Marnie phoning for help and dropping the phone under the desk. She had had to cope with the pain and the shock all alone with no-one to care for her. Anne’s shoulders sagged. Had Marnie known she was pregnant? Anne thought back to when she had found Marnie checking her diary for the day she had rushed off to Oxford. Six weeks had elapsed since she had taken off to join Ralph and meet the German professor. It all added up.
Anne stood and walked out. She needed fresh air and would wait for Beth outside. There are complications, the male nurse had said.
Chapter 48
Prognosis
For Anne the weekend passed in a blur. Beth and Paul had arrived while Marnie was still in the operating theatre, and afterwards she was too drowsy to receive visitors. Cottage number three was vacant, so Beth and Paul installed themselves while Anne busied herself on the phone trying to track down Ralph. This was no easy task. In between engagements he was staying for a day or two with friends before moving on. Anne left messages at a number of hotels asking him to phone home.
On Saturday morning Anne phoned Molly Appleton and told her Marnie was recovering from an accident and would be back in the office in a day or two. That provided an official version to circulate in the village.
Before visiting hours, Anne devoted herself to tidying the office. Every paper was filed, every invoice printed and posted, every scheme checked and annotated. The to-do list grew but gradually every item save one was ticked off. Sally Ann was due to be craned back into the water on Monday.
Anne rang Danny, whose reaction surprised her.
“Have you told Donovan? He’ll want to know.”
“I told you, Danny, I’ll not be –”
“Don’t be silly, Anne. You must tell him. He’s a friend.”
“But –”
“Okay, he might not want to reply, but the least you can do is let him know. It’s only right. Think about it.”
Anne did think about it, for half the morning and finally sent an e-mail.
Hi
Got some bad news. Marnie’s had an accident.
She’s in hospital – had an operation.
Haven’t spoken to her yet.
Doctors say she’ll be OK. Visiting later.
Ralph’s away in Far East.
Beth and Paul here for the weekend.
Sally’s in the marina for blacking. No idea when I’ll be able to fetch her.
Hope all is well.
A
*
When they arrived at the hospital the duty nurse told them Marnie was in a single room, with only two visitors allowed at any one time. Anne sat in the corridor while Beth and Paul went in. They reappeared after a quarter of an hour, and Anne was shocked to see Beth in tears. She jumped to her feet.
Paul had an arm round Beth’s shoulders and, seeing Anne’s startled expression, he mouthed, It’s all right, and tried to look reassuring. The nurse told Anne she could have five minutes.
When Anne opened the door and slipped into the room, Marnie gave a weak smile.
“Don’t be alarmed, Anne.” Her voice was faint and slightly hoarse. “I look pale because I lost quite a lot of blood. Everything’s all right. I’m going to be fine. Really.”
Anne put her bunch of grapes on a side table and sat by the bed, reaching to take Marnie’s hand.
“I’m doing all I can to get in touch with Ralph.”
“Beth told me. Thanks.”
“I think I know what happened, Marnie.”
Another smile. “Of course you do.”
“You checking your diary, that dash to Oxford …”
Marnie nodded. “Forgetting to take my pills.”
“I figured.”
“Just one of those things. It went clean out of my mind.”
“So, are you all right?”
“The surgeon said I … probably won’t be able to have children.”
“Oh Marnie.”
“Apparently one tube had to be removed. The other was badly damaged.”
“I’m so sorry.” Anne could feel warm tears on her cheeks. “Really sorry, Marnie.”
“It could be worse. Anyway … I have my family.”
Anne could find no words. She buried her face beside Marnie’s hand.
Chapter 49
A Surprise Return
Anne had everything worked out. It was not the first time she had found herself in charge of the office, nor even the first time she had to run the company while Marnie languished in hospital, but on that Monday morning she felt utterly miserable and close to tears. Her therapy was to devote all her energies to keeping the firm running.
Beth and Paul had gone home the previous evening, satisfied that Marnie was on the mend. Anne had opened the office at seven, sorting through Marnie’s in-tray over toast and coffee. She took a policy decision: she would tell none of the clients about Marnie’s absence or its causes. She could initial any letters and handle any correspondence. If a cheque was needed, she would take it in for Marnie to sign during visiting hours.
College would just have to wait. Anne was ahead of schedule with her work and could keep up with reading outside office hours.
By eight she was in the farmhouse checking what building work was in prospect for the week when Bob and his mate arrived. She told them Marnie was unwell but would be back to work soon. In the meantime they knew what they had to do.
Half an hour later the post was delivered. By nine, everything had been processed and Anne was finishing the last of the reply letters when she heard a car pull up in the courtyard.
Angela Hemingway walked slowly past the plate glass window and came into the office. Anne thought that a vicar must regard the comforting of a parishioner as a normal part of her professional duties, but one look at Angela’s face told her that this was personal. Anne had phoned Angela on Sunday evening to explain about Marnie. She stood up as Angela crossed the room, and they hugged each other in shared misery.
Angela looked at the desk, which was covered in envelopes, letters and notes.
“Come on, Anne. Let’s get some fresh air. You look as if you’ve been working all night.”
They took the track through the spinney and made their way towards the towpath. Standing on the bridge over the canal, they gazed down at the water where Thyrsis lay at her mooring beside Sally Ann’s empty docking area.
“Molly Appleton has told people that Marnie had an accident. Did she get that from you?”
Anne nodded. “I had to say something. They’d seen the ambulance.”
“You did the right thing. I’d like to visit Marnie. Would that be okay?”
“Sure. Visiting hours are three to five and seven to eight.”
Angela turned and leaned her back against the parapet.
“I was at Knightly Court the other day. From what I saw of the redecoration, it looks wonderful.”
“You went to see Celia?”
“No. I only saw the hall. I went to look in on Ma
rcus Devere. He’s now quite frail and doesn’t leave the house. A pastoral visit.”
“I thought he was catholic.”
“He is, but he’s a nice old chap and likes to have an occasional visitor. Actually, I bumped into Father Martin when I arrived.”
“Was that embarrassing?”
“Not at all. We get on very well with the Romans. Father Martin’s really pleasant, very young. He’s attached to the cathedral in Northampton. It’s his first post.”
“How was Mr Devere?”
“Not bad. He has good days. That was one of them. He’s gradually winding down. Anyway, let’s not dwell on that. I just wanted to say what a beautiful job you and Marnie have done at the Court.”
“We were pleased with it. I hope Celia was.”
“I’m sure she was delighted. What about you, Anne? How are you bearing up?”
“I’m fine as long as I keep busy. My main concern is trying to get in touch with Ralph.”
“Where is he?”
“Somewhere between Kuala Lumpur and Shanghai. He might be spending a day or two with friends from Hong Kong Chinese University. Actually, Angela, I think I ought to get back to the office in case he’s trying to contact me.”
“He doesn’t know about the miscarriage?”
“No. And I’m not looking forward to telling him about it.”
*
Ralph’s call came through in the early afternoon. He had just checked into a hotel in Shanghai. Anne made a huge effort to keep her voice steady as she gave him the news. It was a clear line and, almost six thousand miles away, she heard his intake of breath and felt his sense of shock. Reassuring him that Marnie was making a solid recovery, Anne offered to be at the hospital in the afternoon visiting time to make sure the portable phone was in Marnie’s room so that he could speak with her.
After disconnecting, Anne rang the college to explain she would probably have to be absent for the rest of the week. Only two items remained on her to-do list. The first was Sally Ann. The boatyard had already told Anne she could collect the boat any day. She set that matter aside until she knew how the week was going to pan out.
The final item on the list was Cottage 3. Anne jogged through the spinney to collect bedding from Thyrsis. It took her half an hour to prepare the cottage as a temporary residence for Marnie and herself. They would have adjacent bedrooms, and Anne would be within easy reach if Marnie needed any help, day or night.
It was a long day, and by the time Anne went up to bed, she was bone-weary. She knew she had done everything possible to deal with the situation. Ralph and Marnie had had a conversation on the phone, and Anne was amazed at Marnie’s composure afterwards. The office was running smoothly. The cottage was ready for Marnie’s return. Anne tried not to think of her college work.
She lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes for a few moments to think about what jobs she had to do the next day.
*
Anne woke on Tuesday to find she had fallen asleep without turning off the light. It was strange to be in a normal house with perpendicular walls. She slid out of bed and opened the curtains. Opposite, the office barn seemed to nestle against the trees of the spinney. Anne yawned. It was six-thirty. She needed some light exercise to loosen up before taking a shower.
Dolly had slept downstairs in her basket, and the two of them stepped out together under an overcast sky with a cool breeze and the threat of rain in the air. Dolly trotted ahead of Anne, tail held high, along the track through the trees. Normally she had breakfast on the boat with the others, but for now –
At the edge of the spinney Anne stopped abruptly. Dolly pranced on and in her habitual fashion leapt up onto the stern deck of … Sally Ann.
The boat lay in her docking area at right angles to the canal a few yards from Thyrsis. Anne moved back into the shelter of the trees, twisting her head, scanning the spinney for any sign of movement. The curtains were all closed. It was impossible to know if anyone was on board.
Anne took a deep breath and covered the ground between the spinney and the boat in a few seconds. She reached into the gas bottle holder, dug out the spare door key and slipped it into the lock. The boat was empty, everything tidy and in its place. Outside, Anne lifted the central deck panel and reached down to touch the engine. It was faintly warm. Sally Ann had returned within the past hour or so.
Anne rapidly considered the possibilities. They were very limited. Had the boatyard staff brought the boat back? Unlikely. It was a six-hour trip from Willowbridge.
Anne lowered the deck panel back into place and perched on the lid of the gas bottle container to organise her thoughts. Someone had driven the boat back though the night and left her in the docking area. Whoever it was knew the boat, the boatyard people and Sally Ann’s docking arrangements. That person also had no problems with travelling in darkness. Only one name sprang to mind.
Donovan.
Anne had sent him a message that included the boat situation. He had not e-mailed her back. This was his reply. Then she saw it.
In one corner of the matt black decking a single impression could be seen: the faint imprint of a bicycle tyre. It was as good as a signature.
*
Soon after eight the phone rang.
“Walker and Co, good morning.”
“I would like to speak with Ms Marnie Walker.” A woman’s voice, slightly accented, stern and businesslike.
“I’m afraid she’s out of the office. Can I take a message?”
“Who is this speaking?”
“Anne Price. I’m Mrs Walker’s assistant.”
A pause. “When will she be returning?”
“May I know who’s calling?”
“This is Professor Karin Fleischer, speaking from Germany.”
“Mrs Walker will be away from the office for a few days, professor.”
“I see. You are her secretary?”
“Not quite, but I have her diary and I am in contact with her each day.”
“I will leave a message. Tell her that I have spoken to Professor Hallgarten. Can you spell that?”
“Yes.” Anne stopped herself adding, no probs.
“I have persuaded her that Mrs Walker is not a neo-fascist. Dr Hallgarten would be willing to talk to her. You have understood?”
“Perfectly. I should perhaps explain that Mrs Walker is in hospital. She’s had an operation, but will be back soon.”
“She is better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I will give you Professor Hallgarten’s contact information.”
At nine Anne rang the boatyard and thanked the manager for releasing Sally Ann to their friend. He confirmed that ‘Mr Smith’, whose own boat had been blacked there the previous year, had come up from London especially to collect Sally Ann. They had tried phoning Marnie but only encountered the answerphone message. In the end they saw no reason to doubt Mr Smith’s word. He knew where the spare key was kept and was obviously a friend.
It seemed he had travelled up by train with his bike and cycled to the boatyard from Bletchley station. Once the boat was delivered, he would be returning on the early morning train from Wolverton station.
“He’s the only person we know who seems to prefer cruising at night. That’s why we call his own boat the Ghost Boat.” The manager laughed. “He said he wanted to give you a surprise.”
That’s nothing new, Anne thought, as she disconnected.
Chapter 50
Assignation
On Wednesday morning the temptation to phone Anne was enormous. The surgeon examined Marnie during his rounds and pronounced her fit to go home that day if she felt well enough. As soon as he left the room she was out of bed and on her way to the bathroom. Bathed and with fresh dressings in place, she changed into outdoor clothes.
Anne would be at college. Marnie wondered about a taxi, but the prospect of returning alone to an empty office did not appeal. She sat in the more comfortable of the visitors’ chairs and tried to read a
magazine. It was difficult. Never one to magnify a problem into a psychological melodrama, she sat in enforced idleness thinking calmly about her situation.
She realised that she had hoped one day to have children, but admitted to herself that it had not yet risen to the top of her agenda. Since the breakdown of her marriage to Simon she had focused on her career. Now she wondered if that was enough. Without being complacent, she concluded she had more than her share of good fortune. She knew that she lived her life surrounded by love. It was enough.
Marnie only knew she had nodded off when she heard the door click open.
“If you want to sleep, you should be in bed, Marnie.”
A brisk, crisp nurse with a ready smile and a Geordie accent looked at her in mock reproof.
Marnie blinked and sighed.
“It’s boredom, Julie. Mr Hussein said I can go home and it’s a long wait till Anne’s due at visiting time.”
“You’ve got a visitor already.”
“How can I? It’s much too early.”
“Some people think they can just do what they like and expect everyone to fit round them.”
“One of my friends?”
“So she says.”
“Who is it?”
Before the nurse could reply, the door swung open behind her and Celia Devere walked into the room.
“There you are, Marnie. The staff tried to tell me it wasn’t the right time for visiting. You look fine to me.”
The nurse rolled her eyes at Marnie.
“Are you okay for a visit?”
Marnie realised how desperate she was when she agreed. The nurse left the room without a glance at Celia.
“You’re up and dressed. Are you going home?”
“I shall be, later on.”
“But you’re ready now, or so it seems. How are you, Marnie? When I heard you’d had an accident I –”
“I’m okay, fine. It’s good of you to come.”
Celia sat on the edge of the bed.
“Oh, Marnie, I realise I’ve been such a fool, and an ungrateful one at that. After all the lovely scheme you did for the Court. It’s beautiful. Things haven’t been going well for me lately and, well, I rather took it out on you. Can you forgive me?”
