The Hive

by Claire Rayner

  ‘Oh, it’s too late for that now.’ Ruth got up and went to peer at herself in the mirror. ‘I’m different, you see? Quite different. Now, always, I’ll be the same as I am this morning.’

  She turned and smiled brilliantly at Swinton. ‘It can’t be like it was before, can it? Now I know! There were things—honestly, Swinton, I’d no idea!’ Se laughed with real amusement. ‘The way he jiggled about—and the——’

  ‘You are the same, though,’ Swinton said, looking at her with some of her old sardonic humour. ‘Still got to talk about it——’

  Ruth laughed again. ‘I suppose so. Only now, I know what it’s all about. Like you, eh? You do know, don’t you?’

  Swinton didn’t answer, but began to dress, pulling her girdle on under her nightdress, avoiding Ruth’s direct gaze.

  ‘Yes,’ Ruth said softly. ‘You know. Let me know about the ergot, will you? I’d rather take it in good time, before I’m even sure I need it. More likely to work then, isn’t it? See you at breakfast, Sylvia.’

  She stopped at the door, and looked back.

  ‘By the way. I told him my name was Sylvia Swinton. Isn’t that a hoot?’

  Elizabeth had no premonition of trouble when she saw Swinton’s name in her appointment book. Not even when Swinton came in with an envelope in her hand did she suspect what she wanted.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sister. What can I do for you?’

  Swinton put the envelope neatly on the desk. ‘I would like you to accept my resignation, Matron,’ she said, and folded her hands quietly on her apron as she sat down.

  Elizabeth looked at the envelope, and then at Swinton’s calm face, and a frown of sheer surprise creased her forehead.

  ‘Your resignation? For heaven’s sake, Sister, why?’

  ‘I want to leave, Matron.’

  ‘But why, Sister? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Personal reasons, Matron.’

  ‘Now, Sister, really! This is a complete shock to me. You really must offer me a better reason than that. I can’t just accept your resignation as though you were a junior staff nurse! You’re one of my senior sisters. I feel I have a right to be taken into your confidence on such an important matter. Unless I am, I can hardly just let you go!’

  ‘You would really be better not to know why, Matron,’ Swinton said. ‘And I would rather not say.’

  Elizabeth began to feel angry.

  ‘That is absurd. Of course I must know why, whether you like it or not. Now, what is all this about?’

  ‘Very well, Matron.’ Swinton sighed wearily, and leaned back in her chair. ‘If you insist. I am alarmed by the group therapy meetings you are holding. I see them as a source of trouble, and I want to get away before I get any further embroiled in it.’

  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘You see the discussions as therapy, then——’

  ‘Of course I do!’ Swinton sounded irritable. ‘Really, Matron, you must credit me with some intelligence. I knew from the beginning you intended them as therapy, that you realised there were people here who needed it. Well, you got away with the Cramm business. She’s a bit better off as a result of what happened to her, and I’m glad for her. You’ll have some trouble with her, I daresay—she’s developed quite a transference for you——’

  ‘I realise that.’

  ‘I’m sure you do. She’s a fairly obvious sort of case. But there are others—less obvious.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Oh, Matron, really. I’m not going to sit here and produce a lot of tattle—you’ll find out for yourself if things go on as they are. You’re going to uncover a great deal more than you bargain for, and I want to be well out of it all.’

  Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, and looked shrewdly at the woman sitting so calmly opposite her.

  ‘I don’t understand your fears, you know, Sister. You’ve agreed that Sister Cramm has gained something positive from our first group discussion. Why shouldn’t some of the others do so? Where can there be danger, as you see it?’

  Swinton looked back at her very directly, and then she took a deep breath, and said, ‘I’m definitely going, Matron, even if I have to take this to board level. So I might as well say what I think, I suppose.’ She stopped and thought for a moment.

  ‘Look. The sisters here are no better and not much worse than any other sisters anywhere else. The sort of woman who makes her life in a hospital is not really—normal. I don’t think so, anyway. They live this artificial life, and they protect themselves against it, and against themselves, with all sort of artifices. Everyone does, of course, to a certain extent. You do, I do—but the sisters here—they need their protection more than most. They all function pretty successfully at present, they rub along, and they’ll go on rubbing along, left alone. They’ll do their jobs well enough, and they’ll cope with their problems as they’ve always done, because they don’t understand them, or what they are—even that they have any.’

  She stopped, and smiled suddenly.

  ‘I do that myself—rub along, do a fairly good job. I may be a little different in that I can recognise most of my problems. But I’m damned sure there are some I don’t recognise, and I don’t want to. There’s plenty of mud at the bottom of my private pond, and I like it there—settled and thick, and out of my way. However careful I am—and I am careful—there’s danger that the discussions will stir up that mud whether I like it or not. I don’t, so I’m going.’

  ‘It’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? To run away? You could just opt out of the discussions, if you feel so strongly about them,’ Elizabeth said.

  Swinton laughed. ‘Come, Matron. I’m not so easily manipulated. I don’t mind being told I’m running away, because I know quite well I am. I think I’m right to. Anyway, it isn’t only myself I’m afraid for. There’ll be some sort of big explosion soon, after one of these discussions, and I want well out of it before it happens. I keep as aloof as I can, most of the time, but I live here too. If people’s mud gets stirred up, I’ll get some of it on me—I don’t want it. I’ve—already had some of it, because I let my guard down. I’m not risking it again.’

  ‘Oh?’ Elizabeth said sharply. ‘Something happened after last night’s discussion? Sister Arthur?’

  ‘Perhaps. Anyway, as I say, I’ve had enough. And if I might offer my advice, you’ll give up this discussion idea here and now. These women—they’re not right for it. You need to be—well, reasonably mature to cope with them. These sisters are anything but mature.’

  ‘That sounds rather arrogant, Sister. Do you see them all as juvenile?’

  ‘But they are! You know as well as I do that every hospital has its own—ambience of general attitude, if you like. One group of sisters in one hospital may be adult women, and newcomers fit into their pattern, are as adult as they are, or they don’t stay. Other groups in other hospitals—like this one—have an adolescent sort of atmosphere, and that infects everyone else. The—emotional tone becomes a constant. If someone joins them who is less adolescent than they are, they either regress to the existing pattern, or they go. I’ve realised I’m in danger of regressing, so I’m going.’

  ‘How long have you been here, Sister?’

  ‘Just over a year.’

  ‘Don’t you think, with this superior understanding of yours, that you might be able to improve the ambience, as you put it, of the sisters? Couldn’t you bring them up to your level of insight?’

  ‘It won’t help to sneer at me, Matron——’

  ‘Indeed, I’m not sneering. I doubt your diagnosis, I must admit, but I don’t use cheap sneers. That would be juvenile, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m used to people who do use such weapons, I suppose. Anyway, you made a reasonable point. I did think for a while that I might be able to—improve matters. I’m as arrogant as the next person, no doubt——’ She threw a sharp amused glance at Elizabeth, who smiled a little in response.

  ‘Who’s sneering now?’
<
br />   ‘Touché! However, I’ve enough sense to know what I can’t do. I’ve been here long enough to see what can’t be altered, and I’m ready to accept that. I’m leaving hospital work altogether, I think. It’s an abnormal life, and I can’t live it and stay outside it as I used to be able to do. I think——’ She smiled suddenly. ‘I’m thirty-two, now, and I’ve never had any particular wish to marry. But I’m beginning to think I should. I’m hardly likely to manage that unless I get out, so I’ll get some sort of nine to five job, and a flat of my own, and find myself a husband. I’ve been forced to see that the world just isn’t geared to single women. You might find it easier to accept that as my reason for resigning. I want to enlarge my social life.’

  ‘Sisters marry from hospital, you know. Take Sister Jennings, on the children’s ward——’

  ‘She’s younger than I am, and she’s marrying a man she’s known for years—long before she started nursing. Those of us who have no such contacts ready made are less fortunate. Anyway that’s as good a reason as any.’

  Elizabeth sighed sharply.

  ‘Well, I suppose I can’t keep you against your will. I’m sorry, of course. Apart from the fact that you run a good ward, I rather like you as a person. I would have been grateful for your help with my ideas. However. You don’t want to help——’

  ‘If I saw any value in it, I would. But I see it as a potential danger—the group discussion idea, that is.’ She looked curiously at her. ‘You are continuing, I suppose?’

  ‘Oh, definitely. I am less—scornful of your colleagues than you are.’

  ‘You don’t know them yet as well as I do.’

  ‘Then say I’m less pessimistic. Anyway, I shall certainly continue. Look, I want to ask one thing of you. You’ll be here another month. Will you continue to take part in the discussions till you go? I’d like your support.’

  ‘Must I?’

  ‘No must about it—I’m asking you to do so as a favour, if you like.’

  Swinton smiled. ‘I suppose I can hardly refuse. But if the going gets too much for me I’m saying nothing during a meeting. And——’ She stopped, and looked consideringly at Elizabeth.

  ‘May I warn you of a personal hazard—to you?’

  ‘A personal hazard?’

  ‘Sister East is—bitter. She wants your job.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘She still wants it. And she is a determined woman. She has more understanding of the people here than you might think—more than she may realise herself. I’d take care, if I were you. She’s not attending these discussions for the reasons you may think. She——’

  ‘I’d rather not discuss that, if you don’t mind, Sister,’ Elizabeth said flatly. ‘I thought you preferred not to tattle——’

  ‘Ouch!’ Swinton said softly. ‘Very well, Matron. I’ll leave a calendar month from today, then. Thank you for your time this afternoon, Matron. Good day.’

  The day before the next sisters’ discussion group James French took Elizabeth out to dinner and a theatre.

  ‘Jennifer is visiting relatives, and I’m alone,’ he told her when he suggested the evening. ‘And now my registrar is back, I am more free—I’ve been on call most evenings during his absence. I hope you can come.’

  ‘I’d like to,’ Elizabeth said, and arranged to meet him in the restaurant. Neither found this at all surprising; both knew how dangerous hospital gossip could be, and had no intention of providing a source by being seen together obviously setting out from the hospital on an evening of social activity.

  They enjoyed the play, and dined afterwards, talking with a great deal of animation about what they had seen, and arguing about the merits of the acting with some of the uncomplicated pleasure they used to enjoy, in the old days.

  But the talk petered out after a while, and Elizabeth sat quietly, turning her glass of wine in her hands, while he sat and watched her in the soft red glow of the light on their corner table in the expensive restaurant they were using.

  ‘Elizabeth,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ve been thinking a good deal about what you said to me last time we talked.’

  ‘Have you? Was it constructive thought?’

  ’I hope so. I tried to be analytical—as you are yourself.’

  ‘And what did you decide?’ She looked up at him and smiled a little wickedly. ‘Or were you unable to make a decision as a result of all this cerebration?’

  He moved a little uncomfortably. ‘Yes, I made a decision——’

  There was a short silence, then she said, amusement in her voice, ‘Poor James. You find me too direct, don’t you? I’m less willing to disguise my ideas in your sort of language than I was. You much prefer to talk obliquely, don’t you? And I talk too directly these days, and demand equally direct talk from you. And now, you are finding it difficult to say what you have to say as a result. Am I right?’

  He laughed shortly. ‘Yes, damn you, you’re right.’

  ‘Try it. I’m your only audience. I won’t be shocked.’

  ‘I know you won’t. That’s what makes it so difficult. Damn you, Elizabeth. I know you don’t want romance, any more than I do, but wouldn’t a pretence of it be—wouldn’t it add a certain gloss to living? A civilised gloss? I find some of your attitudes a shade too farmyard for my taste.’

  ‘But why should you? A spurious sophistication isn’t much of a gloss, is it? I think there is far more—interest—in honesty. As for a farmyard attitude—well, I suppose you could call it that. Say it’s biological—scientific, if you like. It may help.’

  ‘All right. Let’s be biological—and eminently practical. I want your help in getting the bed allocation I need for my research. You are in a position to give me definitive help. I’ve been sounding out the committee, and there’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll let me have those beds if you support me. Right. You are willing to do so on—certain conditions.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Do you find them—-distasteful?’

  He looked at her with a direct honesty that was something new in her experience of him.

  ‘Far from it. That is one of my—difficulties. I rather think I like them a little too well. I——’ He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t pretend to have a great emotional attachment to Jennifer, Elizabeth, but she does mean a great deal to me as a wife. Can you understand that?’

  ‘That Mrs. French is more important than Jennifer, as a person? Yes, I understand that.’

  ’I would be very upset if—anything should happen that would distress her, and thereby cause damage to my marriage. Do you understand that as well?’

  ‘Look, James. If my directness contains embarrassments for you, it also has its advantages. I am not going to lie to you—I’m not using a false honesty as a cloak for a search for something deeper. I told you what I want, and I told you all that I want. I don’t want to marry you—I don’t want to marry anyone. An intense emotional relationship is something I’ve always avoided, and always shall. Even a cool marriage would have overtones of emotional involvement, and I would never risk it. But, I told you before, and I’ll say it again, and even more directly. I do want an affair with you—using the word in its simplest sense. I want you as a lover, until I tire of you—as I undoubtedly shall. I always do. I may not tire as quickly as I have in the past, but I will eventually. I know myself well enough for that. So don’t be afraid that I’ll damage your marriage if you agree to be my lover. That’s a stupid word, isn’t it? But there isn’t another that will do—anyway, you needn’t worry. I’ll be as discreet and undemanding as you could wish. But I won’t be used as a convenience, all the same. If we embark on this, then we do it on equal terms. If I want you to come to me at any particular time, I expect you to make genuine efforts to do so. I don’t want lies about Jennifer as an excuse for refusal. You must understand that. And if you want to come to me, then, I, on my part, will be as—accommodating as I possibly can.’

  He was leaning back in his chair, staring at her
in genuine puzzlement, and when she stopped speaking, her voice throughout having been as composed as if she had still been discussing the play they had seen, he shook his head in some bewilderment.

  ‘I thought I understood you, but obviously, I don’t.’ He threw his head back then and laughed so loudly that one or two other diners turned to look at them.

  ‘Do you know what was worrying me? Not that you would be too—attached—to me, but that I might get too involved with you! But you would never let that happen, would you, Elizabeth? You’d recognise the symptoms and dispose of me very quickly indeed, before I could embroil myself too deeply. If I weren’t a prudent man, I’d be tempted to say that was a pity. I like you very much indeed, you know. You’re—refreshing, and you’re beginning to excite me in a physical way. You never used to, but now, you do——’

  ‘It’s the power I now have that excites you,’ she said with composure. ‘Five years ago, I had nothing to give you, nothing you could use, and therefore, I couldn’t arouse any physical feeling in you. But now that I am a person of power—even of a limited sort—I’m worth overcoming. That’s the sort of man you are, isn’t it? I’ve wondered what it is that Jennifer holds that can excite you. Is it money?’

  He reddened. ‘Damn you, Elizabeth. Can’t you cover anything in decent reticence?’

  She smiled. ‘No, I can’t. It makes me—an exciting partner, I’ve been told.’ She dropped her eyes with the first hint of provocation she had shown all evening.

  ‘When can we meet?’ he said abruptly, after a moment.

  ‘It’s agreed, then?’

  ‘Yes. It’s agreed. When? Tomorrow?’

  She leaned back in her chair and laughed softly. ‘Your eagerness is flattering. No, not tomorrow. There’s the sisters’ discussion meeting, and I find those evenings—debilitating. The following evening. Come to the flat.’

  He looked alarmed. ‘The flat? Is that wise?’

  ‘Much wiser, and a great deal more comfortable than using an hotel. We want no possible witnesses or bills, or anything of that sort to complicate matters, do we? My maid is off duty at eight thirty, and I’m never disturbed after that, unless in emergency—and then I am telephoned. The flat. About nine?’