She turned her head, looking downwards again to the roof of the restaurant below, estimating the situation. If he did fall, he wouldn’t land on the balcony below but on that fragile roof, for he was just sufficiently far to one side to be in a direct line to it. Her mind moved sluggishly, as she tried, quite desperately, to think of how to behave, but somehow it did move, for she heard her own voice, speaking softly over her shoulder. “Sebastian - send to the restaurant. Close the roof-shutters - in case he falls. Arrange for tables to be moved from the area put down - anything - mattresses, anything. Get rid of al! these people - balcony below, everyone - Then go down to the balcony below yourself - catch him - ”
She leaned over the balcony railing again as Sebastian moved swiftly away from her, and started to talk again to the child below, trying to find words that would reach him, that would make him feel safe and wanted and important.
“Fred, I was a very stupid person to you this morning, and you’re right to be so mad at me. Thing was I had a problem. You know how it is - people do things to you that make you feel bad, make you do things you don’t usually do. I’d had a letter from someone like that. It made me be a different person for a little while - ”
“I came to tell you what they’d done,” he said after a moment still staring downwards. She could see his hair moving gently on his forehead as the breeze lifted it, and wanted very much to be able to put her hand out and touch him, so lonely and vulnerable and helpless on his ledge. It was a physical state he was in now, but suddenly she could see that this was how it always was for Daniel. In his relationships with the adults in his life always he was poised on the edge of disaster, never able to know for sure whether he would be safe, or whether he would fall, or whether it would be quicker and easier just to fly away altogether -
“What had they done?” she said, and her voice was as light and conversational as she could make it.
“Said I wasn’t to come down to you no more, not ever, because it was unhealthy with all those germs about you and wasn’t to be bothered any more, and I had to stay with that woman - that maid - only she didn’t talk any English - but I got away from her and I came to tell you and you said go away and play - ”
“I know. I told you why. Can you forgive me? I didn’t mean it. It was because - I was unhappy about a letter.”
He looked up then and she could see the tremor in his neck and shoulders more clearly, for his fatigue was growing. “Are you gettin’ divorced too then?”
“I’m not married, Fred, so I can’t get divorced,” she said gently, and became aware of movement on the balcony below, and hoped Fred wouldn’t look down and see it too.
“Well, whatever it is when you get all crying all the time and angry, because of letters and phone calls. She’s always doin’ it - not now because she only just got married to rottenunclestinkyjack but she’ll do it again soon - ”
He moved suddenly, apparently trying to raise his arm to rub his face, for he wrinkled his nose as the breeze blew his hair across his forehead again, and the movement seemed to alter his balance for he swayed, and went even whiter, and shrank back against the wall, peering downwards, and involuntarily she put her hand out towards him and said crisply “It’s all right, Fred. We’ll get you down - ”
“I don’t want you to!” His voice rose shrilly again. “I don’t want to do nothing! I’m going to fly away, and never talk to any of you again - that’s what I’m going to do-”
In a curious way she knew he was enjoying himself. The fear, the fatigue, the power he felt behind all he did and said; she knew somehow that he was aware of all this, and was enjoying it, and her fear grew; for while he still found such an element of fantasy in the whole situation, his danger was very real. If only he were too frightened to move, it would be possible to pluck him from his perch; but while he reacted as he did, he could frustrate any attempt to get to him -
Far below her she saw the green shutters creep up the restaurant roof, and then she saw on the balcony below Sebastian with two men, and they were rigging up some sort of escape system - putting a long ladder across the side railings of the balcony, and she realized what he was trying to do, as one of the men - a big square-shouldered gardener - leaned all his weight on the opposite side, and another, much younger and slighter, began to creep on his belly along it towards the end that was now almost below the ledge where Daniel stood clinging to the sheer wall.
He saw them at the same moment she did, and slid his hands down the wall and forwards, and shouted - “No! - No!”
And then, inevitably, it happened. He toppled forwards, and it was almost like a slow motion cinema film for she sat there helplessly and watched the small body lurch forwards, curl up, twist, saw the hands come out with the fingers convulsively curled.
And then, incredibly, he was clinging with both hands to the last rung of the ladder, which was just below him, his small body swinging from it like a monkey-on-a-stick toy she had had once long ago in her own childhood, and the man who had been crawling along the ladder tumbled off on to the balcony as the metal structure twisted and lurched.
“We’ve got him now!” she thought triumphantly, and slid sideways off the railing, meaning to run back through the room and down, to get to Fred and hold him and comfort him, and make him well, somehow. And then stopped, sick and hopeless in her horror. For the heavy man on the far side of the ladder moved, as the sides of it twisted, and she could see his face crease with pain as the point of one support dug into his belly; saw him react with the inevitable reflex, let go his grip of the ladder to clutch his belly, and his own face smoothed with horror as he realized, too late, what he had done.
He reached forwards convulsively, trying to catch the moving ladder, and so did Sebastian and the thin man who scrambled to his feet from the paving stones, but none of them moved fast enough, for the ladder tipped, tilted, and rose at the far end as the lower end, with Daniel still clinging desperately, tipped over the edge and slid away and downwards. And she watched helpless and numb as the small figure lurched through the air, hit the glass roof with the ladder following, and disappeared from sight in a welter of glass fragments and noise.
12
She never knew how she got there. One moment she saw him disappear through the glass roof, and then there was a hiatus filled with shouts and jostling people and movement and fear. And then she was there, on the floor of the restaurant, looking down on the crumpled shape beneath the debris.
She realized with one corner of her mind that she had been pushed into the role of controller, for when she looked at the crowd of people clustering round him, they just stared anxiously back at her, waiting to be told what to do, and she moved crisply, kneeling down beside him.
He lay ominously still, and she said “One of you -take the end of this - only move it when I say - ” and her voice was harsh and cracked. Obediently, one of the waiters came hurrying forwards, and then another as she pointed, and yet another, until, directing them partly by pointing and nodding, occasionally with a word or two, she had helped them very carefully lift off the pieces of broken metal and the great shards of glistening broken glass that were heaped over and around him.
She saw now that there were mattresses strewn about, that Sebastian had moved fast with his instructions, for Fred had landed on the edge of one, with only one small brown arm in contact with the bare floor.
And then, the glass and metal were gone, and she could see him more easily. He was lying crumpled, his head thrown back, and she looked at his face for one frightened second, at the whiteness of it, the way the eyes were rolled back and half open, and was filled with the sick certainty that he was dead. And put her hand out and touched his wrist, and fumbled her fingers urgently, and then there it was. The thin reedy movement of his pulse.
Now she moved more swiftly, checking his mouth, pulling his lax jaw forwards so that his tongue was raised, and he gasped and moved slightly and she wanted to shout, but all her training reared up and restra
ined her, and she said in a quiet controlled voice “He’s alive.”
Somewhere behind her there was a sound, a sort of rough sighing, and she turned her head briefly to look. Mrs. Rendell was leaning against one of the women, and her face too was white, and her eyes rolled back so that for a moment she looked incredibly like the small figure on the floor. And even as Isabel looked at her she crumpled and slid downwards, and one of the men grabbed at her. And then Isabel stopped caring and turned back to the child.
Her hands moved swiftly but very carefully over his body; arms, legs, ribs; neck, shoulders, head. And under her touch he began to move restlessly, and then, sharply, to wail a high thin cry, and she stroked his cheek with one hand and murmured “All right, Fred. It’s all right, you’re fine - soon be fine - ”
But he whined again, and then suddenly reared up and opened his eyes and stared at her, and tried to roll away from her and again she put her hands on him, this time across his shoulders, gently forcing him to lie down, and he let her push him back, but was shouting and crying quite loudly now.
“I’ve sent for the ambulance,” Sebastian’s voice said in her ear, above the noise Fred was making. “How is he, do you think?”
She laughed shakily. “It’s incredible - it really is. As far as I can tell he’s not much more than badly concussed. He’s no broken bones so far as I can see, and he’s not bleeding much - just those scratches on his legs, you see? Where he went through the glass, I think - and he’ll be sure to have some bruises - but apart from that, I think he’s all right - ”
“Well, thank God for that!” A gruffer voice cut in, and she looked up and saw Mr. Rendell staring down at the boy, and she thought absurdly “He’s still smoking that damned cigar - ”
“Of all the damn fool things for a kid to do! Is he outa his mind or something? He’s lucky not to have killed himself, the little - after this, his mother’ll listen to me - ”
She stared up at him, at the square grizzled face and the pugnacious jaw and said stupidly, “What did you say?”
“I said he’s damned little fool!” Rendell said loudly. “Thank God he’s alive, of course, but you know as well as I do it’d have been no more than his own crazy fault if he wasn’t. I’ve told his poor mother a hundred times - ”
“Mr. Rendell, don’t go away!” Isabel said with a very high note in her voice, “Stay right there, will you? The ambulance is here - ” for she could see the stretcher and its men coming through the hubbub at the door of the restaurant “ - and Daniel needs to be in hospital fast. But after that I’ve something to say to you - ”
They put him on the stretcher, wrapping him in blankets, and he co-operated with their movements, for Isabel spoke to him softly and he looked at her with puzzled eyes and obeyed her instructions. But when he was on the stretcher he cried out suddenly “What happened?”
“You fell, Fred. You won’t remember about it because you’ve had a great wallop on your head,” she said gently. “You’ll have to go to hospital for a while to make sure you’ve not broken anything, but they’ll be nice to you - you’ll like it there.” “Yes,” he said, and his voice was still thick with bewilderment. “I’ll like it there.” He rolled his head a little on the pillow as the stretcher men picked him up, and then opened his eyes wide at her, and they had that same blazing blueness that had been so vivid up there on the ledge below the balcony. “Don’t let them go without you. I want - I want - ” and again he looked puzzled and closed his eyes and creased his forehead, and murmured “I want - ”
“He’ll be bewildered for a while yet,” she said crisply to Sebastian. “Shall I go with them to the hospital? He’ll need someone he knows - ”
“Of course,” Sebastian said quickly. “I will send my car for you as soon as you are to return. But do not leave him until you feel it is right - ”
“Hey, what about the kid’s mother - what about - er - Mrs. Rendell?” The cigar came thrusting between them, and Isabel stared at him for a long moment and then, luxuriously let go. She knew the people around her were staring and listening, that Sebastian was standing there at her shoulder, and still she said all she wanted to, releasing all the anger and tension and fear with which she had been filled.
“Daniel’s mother? That - your wife? I don’t care what happens to her! You and she between you made this child’s life a hell, and by your own neglect - yes, your neglect, made this whole thing happen and you expect me to give a tuppenny damn about her? She can fry in hell for all I care, d’you hear me? She and you together! If you’d pushed that child out of the window yourselves, you couldn’t be more guilty - and if he’s alive it’s no thanks to her or you! You’re not fit, either of you, to have anything to do with any child, and as far as I’m concerned you’re not worth the space you take up on this earth - now get the hell out of my way! I’m taking this child to hospital - because the poor little devil needs someone with him who cares about him, and that’s not you, not either of you, by any road - ”
And she turned and pushed her way through the crowd to follow the stretcher, now bobbing its way towards the door, and then for one brief moment stopped. For, standing on the other side of her, where she clearly had heard every word Isabel had said, was Daniel’s mother, and her face looked ten years older, so lined and stricken and agonized was it; and Isabel stared at her for a long moment, and knew her expression was filled with sick scorn, and didn’t care in the least. She just flicked her eyes away and hurried off after the stretcher, to follow it to the ambulance and sit beside the restless child, holding his hands protectively as the siren shrieked a path for them to the hospital. Someone gave her a sandwich and some coffee - one of the nuns - and she took it gratefully, nodding and smiling her appreciation and the nun went rustling serenely away, leaving her sitting there watching him.
He lay still and quiet in the very middle of the high white bed, sleeping heavily and snoring a little, but he looked better now, tired still, but not so frighteningly white. It had been Doctor Castillo who had looked after Fred, and although they were unable to speak to each other, at least he knew her, and approved of her, and was willing to tell her all she wanted to know. And, through a very young nun who acted as interpreter, he assured her that Fred’s X-rays were all clear, that he had a most miraculous escape, thanks be to the good God, and had, as she had suspected, simply a case of concussion. He would need to stay in the hospital for a day or two to insure no ill effects further, but after that all would be well.
And they had tucked him into bed, and let her stay with him for she had promised him she wouldn’t go, just yet awhile, and also thought he needed time to get used to seeing nuns being nurses. So, she sat in the little private room into which they had put him and sipped her coffee and let the thoughts come rushing, for she could hold them back no longer.
She had spoken outrageously to Mr. Rendell and she regretted that - not that she gave a damn for the man, but because his wife had heard her. And Isabel knew now certainly that for all her apparent disregard of her child’s welfare, and for all her patent mismanagement of his needs, she did care for him quite desperately. Isabel could see that stricken little face still, the lines that had etched themselves round the mouth, and hated herself for her cruelty. The girl was herself little more than a child; a spoiled one perhaps, but a child all the same. “Not much older than I am” she thought bleakly “but without the years of nursing I’ve had to sharpen my mind - and my tongue, damn it all - ”
She tried to push the thoughts away again, but still they came, and couldn’t be denied; for she knew with the same sureness, why she had attacked Rendell so angrily, what it was she was really saying in that fishwife outburst she had produced. She knew, as certainly as she knew her own name, that the guilt was her own. If she hadn’t sent Fred away so peremptorily when he came to her in his distress, had interceded for him as he had - justly - expected her to do; if she had warned his parents as soon as she knew he was liable to go “balcony moutaineering” instead of
putting it off time and again as she had; if, if, if.
She moved restlessly in her chair, and the child moved too, opening his eyes, and staring round the room, firstly blankly, and then with a sudden look of fear, and he tried to sit up and immediately she was on her feet and standing beside him.
“No, Fred, love. No - you aren’t well, darling. You fell on your head, and you aren’t well. You’re in hospital, and I’m here - Isabel - remember?”
He stared up at her unrecognizingly for a moment, and then his face cleared, and murmured. “Yes. I fell - ” and then he closed his eyes again, and said very loudly “Where’s Mummy? I want Mummy - ”
“I - she’s at the hotel, darling. She had a bad fright when you fell, and she - she’s resting to get over it - ” Isabel said, but he must have heard the hesitancy in her voice, for he stared at her, snapping those incredible blue eyes wide open, and his voice rose urgently. “Where is she? Tell her to come here at once! Tell her I want her - Mummy!” and this time he shouted it, angry and peremptory, and she nodded and said quickly “All right, Fred. I’ll phone her - ”
He looked up at her then, his face creased and suspicious. “My name’s Daniel,” he said after a moment. “I’m Daniel.”
And she smiled and touched his cheek, and said softly, “Yes, I know. I was only joking - will you lie quietly while I go and phone?”
He closed his eyes again, and sighed a little roughly, and she stood for a moment and watched him, and saw him slide back into sleep, and moving softly, went out of the room.
Jaime Mendoza answered the call she put through to the Cadiz, “Señora Rendell? Yes - yes - I call her, at once. She is sitting here in the lounges with many of the guests - all of them, talk, talk, talk - she looks very tired of it. I fetch her - the child, he is? - ”
Nurse in the Sun Page 14
