‘I don’t know. Skiing, probably.’
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised. I hope you’ve brought some lighter clothes.’
‘Is it always this warm out here?’ Artemis was already itching to get out of the wool suit she was wearing. ‘Yesterday, wherever we were passing through yesterday, there was snow.’
‘The climate here is wonderful. And you’re quite sure Hugo is all right?’
‘He’d rather be over here than in Norway,’ Artemis told her, taking her hat off and letting the wind ruffle her blonde hair. ‘Now, tell me about my godson.’
By the time they reached Patsy’s house, and Artemis understood the gravity of the situation, the two women had fallen silent.
Ellie drove the car up the concrete driveway that led to the garage and jumped out as soon as she turned the engine off. ‘Telephone,’ she said and hurried inside the house.
They were at Jamie’s bedside in ten minutes.
‘I think the worst is over,’ the doctor reassured her. ‘Jamie has been stable now for what.’ He looked to his nurse.
‘Well over an hour, doctor.’
‘He was doing just dandy,’ Doctor Vincent continued. ‘Nurse here had him standing and bouncing, and first thing today he had a big game with those toes of his. Isn’t that right, nurse?’
‘He sure did,’ the nurse smiled. ‘He was grabbing away at them, and laughing like nobody. And then the next minute –’
Artemis stood staring at her godson, who was lying on his front with his head to one side. He was deathly pale, and his breathing was quick and shallow.
‘His temperature is down a point,’ Doctor Vincent added thoughtfully. ‘Which is good. He was up over a hundred and two again. What bothers me is the acuteness of the attacks.’
‘What’s that?’ Artemis pointed to a red blotch on the baby’s leg, which was visible now his gown had rolled up.
‘It would appear to be eczema,’ the doctor said.
‘That’s rather what I thought,’ Artemis said pensively.
‘I don’t know what I’ll do,’ Ellie said at one point. ‘If anything happens to him.’ They were walking round the hospital gardens.
‘Nothing’s going to happen to him,’ Artemis said. ‘Because I think I might have the answer.’ Ellie stopped and stared round at her. ‘It’s that patch of eczema. Diana, you know, my godmother, she was on holiday once. She told me all about it. And this friend of hers had a baby, about Jamie’s age, and she wasn’t feeding it either. But not like you. She just didn’t feed it at all herself, because people didn’t. At least, you know – anyway. She had a wet nurse for a long time, then the wet nurse dried up or something and she put the baby on a bottle. And it nearly died. Just like Jamie.’ She felt Ellie’s grip on her hand tighten, and she smiled. ‘It’s all right, because if I’m right, Jamie’s going to be fine. Because what’s wrong with him, you see, is he probably just can’t take cow’s milk.’
‘No,’ said Ellie, after some thought. ‘That’s not possible. Jamie was on cow’s milk long before he fell ill. And he was just fine.’
‘Exactly,’ Artemis replied. ‘And then he fell ill, and after he was ill with his tummy, what happened? He couldn’t drink his milk any more. Or rather he couldn’t – what does that doctor call it?’
‘Contain it.’
‘He couldn’t contain it. Exactly. Because apparently, do you see, it’s having whatever –’
‘Gastro-enteritis.’
‘It’s the gastro-enteritis exactly. That’s set up the what is it? The allergy.’
Ellie stared at her again. ‘Are you quite sure?’ she said.
‘Absolutely positive,’ Artemis replied. ‘I’d stake Brougham on it. If it was mine to stake.’
Doctor Vincent listened attentively to Artemis’s theory, and then nodded. ‘How did I miss it?’ he said. ‘I even remember the paper. I read a paper on it, last year I think it was. The point of it being a baby can be perfectly happy on cow’s milk until it suffers an attack of gastro-enteritis, which so many babies do when they’re not being breast fed. And it’s only after an attack that the baby loses tolerance. The theory is that it’s possibly due to a subsequent deficiency in the enzyme lactase, which breaks down the sugar lactose in the gut.’
‘So even when Jamie was just on sugar and water –’ Ellie guessed.
Doctor Vincent nodded in agreement. ‘Sure. And there’s plenty of sugar lactose in cow’s milk, you bet.’
‘And Jamie started to develop eczema.’
‘I thought that was just a related reaction to the illness. Or even to how he was being treated. But it was just straightforward eczema. Which is a hard and fast symptom of an intolerance to cow’s milk.’
‘OK,’ said Ellie, ‘so far. But what now?’
‘You’d better ask the expert,’ Doctor Vincent said, looking at Artemis.
‘Yes,’ Artemis said. ‘I forgot that bit. You’re going to need a sheep.’
Within twenty four hours the laboratory staff at the clinic had prepared a sheep’s milk formulae, and as soon as Jamie was back to normal, he was introduced to the new regime, which he took to apparently quite happily.
‘Let’s take it little step by little step,’ Doctor Vincent advised. ‘Each day at a time. I’d say this first week is the all important one.’
While they waited to see, Ellie showed Artemis around Hollywood, and the north Californian coastline. Artemis found herself surprisingly glad of the break, and as every day brought better news, the two women began to enjoy themselves more.
‘I just wish Hugo was here to enjoy it as well,’ Ellie said wistfully one day as they walked along the beach. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Not really,’ said Artemis. ‘For you, yes, of course. But I’m enjoying just being here.’
After they’d walked some more, Ellie stopped and stared out at the ocean. ‘My God,’ she said. ‘What would have happened, Artemis? If you hadn’t come?’
When they got back to the house that evening, Ellie called the clinic and was told that Jamie’s improvement was still one hundred per cent. Nonetheless, she naturally wished to visit him, but Artemis asked whether Ellie would mind if she stayed behind because the walk along the beach had left her feeling quite tired.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ve rushed you off your feet ever since you hit town. You stretch out here and have a sleep. I won’t be long.’
Artemis lay down on the sofa and started to flick through a copy of Saturday Evening Post, but five minutes later she was fast asleep.
She didn’t hear him come in. She was dreaming, of long green fields and soft winds, which riffled through her hair as the horse carried her along. Everytime they jumped it was like flying, and suddenly she was really flying, still on the horse, and there was a city far below her, where everyone was looking up and pointing.
He came into the house, opening the door and looking round, but still she dreamed of being high over this city, and she knew where she was now, it was Los Angeles, because she could see the clinic far below her, and there was Ellie looking up and waving, and there was the sea, much nearer than it should be, a blue big waved sea running right up to the house she was in now. A house which was on the edge of the ocean, its windows opening silently and shutting silently as the curtains streamed out and the surf broke slowly over Artemis as she stood at the window and then she saw him, standing over her, looking down on her, brown eyes, dark thick curly hair, brown eyes with thick lashes that smiled, a man wearing a short sleeved sports shirt, well muscled, his arms brown and his hands on his hips as he stood there looking down at her.
‘Who are you?’ she said.
‘It’s OK,’ he replied. ‘There’s no need to be frightened.’ He was smiling, but Artemis was frowning, sitting up now and putting a hand to the top of her chest.
‘Why should I be frightened?’ she asked, nevertheless hoping that he couldn’t hear her heart, which was pounding in her chest.
‘
You look frightened,’ he insisted.
‘More like half-asleep,’ she said.
The man put a soft-sided travelling bag down on the floor and then turned back to regard Artemis, who had swung her legs off the sofa and was now sitting up properly. ‘You didn’t look frightened when you were asleep,’ he told her, with a broad grin.
‘How long were you standing there?’
‘Long enough.’
Artemis took a deep breath, to try and pull herself together. But there was something about the man’s face that held her spellbound, something about the shape of his eyes, the candid expression, the humour of his mouth, something that was dreadfully familiar. ‘Don’t you think you should tell me who you are?’ she heard herself asking.
‘Sure. Although I don’t need to ask who you are. You’re Ellie’s friend Artemis.’
And all at once Artemis knew who he was.
‘I’m Patsy,’ he said, an announcement which was greeted with silence. ‘Ellie’s brother?’ he ventured.
‘Yes, of course,’ Artemis agreed.
‘Where’s Ellie? At the clinic?’ Artemis nodded. ‘Any improvement?’ He waited for a reply, but Artemis was still looking up at him, as if she hadn’t heard. ‘I mean with Jamie,’ he continued. ‘Is there any improvement? Has he had any more attacks?’
‘No,’ Artemis replied, shaking her head. ‘I mean no – no more attacks. Not, no.’
‘Right,’ Patsy nodded.
‘If you see what I mean,’ Artemis added.
Although she was now looking away from him, past him, down at the floor, she could feel him looking at her and she knew he was staring at how white she was, because she could feel there was absolutely no blood in her cheeks. She wanted to slap them, or pinch them, to give them mock roses, but all she could do was just sit there, and hope that he would go away. But he wasn’t going to go anywhere.
‘Look, I’m really sorry. If I frightened you –’
‘If I could just have a drink of water.’
‘A drink of water,’ he repeated. ‘Sure. Coming right up.’ From the kitchen he fetched her a glass of iced water, the base of the glass wrapped in a small paper napkin. Artemis thanked him, and took it from him two-handed, but even so she still managed to spill some.
‘Be honest,’ he said. ‘I did. I startled you.’
‘To be honest,’ Artemis replied, ‘you did more than that.’
She waited until he’d taken his bags and gone to unpack, before she reached for her stick and took herself off to the privacy of her own room, where she closed the door and sat on the bed. Nothing had happened to her like this since the first time she’d seen Hugo, and even the memory of that experience seemed suddenly to have vanished.
She kicked off her shoes and lay full length on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It wasn’t just how Patsy was and how Patsy looked that had so overcome her. It was because she felt she had known him all her life. Of course it was because he was Ellie’s brother, and since Ellie was her best friend, then it only stood to reason she would feel at ease with her brother. Even so.
She was still lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling when later there was a knock on the door and Ellie came in, full of her old zest and high spirits.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I have such good news, really. And it’s all because of you.’ She sat on the edge of the bed and took one of Artemis’s hands. ‘Doctor Vincent thinks Jamie’s turned the corner.’
Artemis sat up, smiling in delight, all thought of her own feelings forgotten.
‘Of course it’s still a little early,’ Ellie continued, ‘but the signs are so good! Jamie’s sitting up and taking notice of things again, and I mean he just looks so different! Doctor Vincent is convinced! He is! He says if it hadn’t been for you –’ Ellie stopped, and suddenly looked at her friend. ‘He’s right, Artemis. If it hadn’t been for you.’ She let go of Artemis’s hand. ‘Patsy’s taking us out to dinner,’ she said. ‘OK?’
‘Of course it’s OK,’ Patsy said, appearing at the open bedroom door. He picked Artemis’s stick up off the floor where she had dropped it and handed it to her. ‘Wagons roll,’ he said, smiling right at her.
The evening they spent reminded Artemis so much of the evenings spent in Ireland, when Ellie, Hugo and she would fool and joke and tease. But in those days it had been Artemis who had gone first to her bed, leaving Hugo and Ellie to whisper in front of the dying embers of the fire, while this night Ellie had gone upstairs first, leaving Artemis and Patsy alone to talk and listen to the radio.
‘Do you like this sort of music?’ he asked.
‘I like this song,’ Artemis replied.
‘ “Stardust”. Hoagy Carmichael.’
‘And I like the band.’
‘You should.’ Patsy said. ‘It’s Tommy Dorsey. And what about this singer?’
Artemis had listened to the young voice, a voice full of confidence and nerve, a voice which played dangerous games with the words of the song, stretching them, delaying them, almost seeming to invent them. ‘I don’t know,’ Artemis had said. ‘It’s odd. It feels as though he’s – well. As if he’s singing to you. Just to you.’
‘You bet,’ Patsy agreed. ‘It’s this new guy. Frank Sinatra.’
For a time they sat and listened to the band and the singer, who as far as Artemis was concerned, seemed much better able to express everything for her. Which was just as well, for compared to someone as easy, assured and charming as Patsy, she found she’d little to say.
In a place like this, in Hollywood, he must know so many girls, beautiful girls, perfect girls. ‘Such rotten luck, my sweet,’ her stepmother used to say. ‘Men are so odd about deformities. A girl I once knew had a club foot. Well, when I say a club foot, it was nothing like your poor leg. It was only very slightly deformed. And she did marry. But once her husband caught sight of it, it was separate bedrooms from then on, and that was it.’
Artemis stared into the darkness and wished she could be American, like Patsy, in love with life, brimming with confidence, warm and funny. Instead of ‘such an odd girl’, with a poor leg, and not a very great deal to which she could look forward, as her stepmother had so often reminded her.
Staring into the darkening night, Patsy also found himself reviewing his chances, and deciding he was more likely to beat Babe Ruth’s record of sixty home runs in one season than he was to get a girl as beautiful, as talented, as intelligent and as refined as Lady Artemis Deverill to take a second look at him. Girls such as she came from great families and had pedigrees as long as menus. They might sometimes idly amuse themselves with young men like him, but only ever as a passing fancy. Lady Artemis Deverill was as aristocratic as he was commonplace. She was sophisticated and he was unrefined. She was cut-glass and he was plastic. She was pure gold, he was nickel. For all the chances he had of interesting her further, he might as well go try and catch a moonbeam. Patsy gave a deep groan, and turned to lie on his side.
The next day Patsy returned from the studios with the news that he’d been invited to attend the academy awards dinner the following week.
‘You see I worked on Goodbye Mr Chips,’ he explained more for Artemis’s benefit than Ellie’s. ‘And both Robert Donat and Greer Garson have been nominated. And Miss Garson has very kindly asked me if I’d like to join her party.’
‘What’s she like?’ Ellie asked curiously.
‘Red-haired and Irish,’ Patsy grinned, before looking back at Artemis. ‘And yet very gentle and aristocratic looking,’ he added shyly. ‘Like Artemis here.’
‘I saw the film in London,’ Artemis told him.
‘And what did you think?’
Artemis thought. ‘The acting was awfully good.’
‘But the film was sentimental?’
‘Yes,’ Artemis said carefully. ‘I suppose so.’
Patsy nodded and smiled, but said no more because he agreed. Artemis smiled and said no more, because she thought she’d said too much.
Fi
nally Patsy cleared his throat and stared at the ground. ‘I’m allowed to take a guest,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to come.’
‘Is that a question?’ Ellie asked. ‘And if so, to whom is it addressed?’
Patsy looked straight up at his sister. ‘Why –’ he stammered, ‘why to – to Artemis, of course.’
Ellie raised her eyebrows exaggeratedly and pulled a sisterly face at Patsy’s confusion. ‘Well I never did,’ she said. ‘What a surprise.’
‘He didn’t have to do this, you know,’ Artemis said from inside the dress into which she was attempting to wriggle.
‘Who didn’t have to do what and why?’ Ellie asked, helping to pull the beautiful dress down over Artemis’s hips. It was the one good gown Artemis had brought with her from London, a dinner dress by Strassner, in clinging black crepe with a gold embroidered ‘sweetheart’ neck, which looked sexy by being demure, and showed off Artemis’s figure to perfection.
‘Wow,’ Ellie said approvingly.
Artemis sat down at the dressing table and checked her hair. ‘Your brother,’ she said.
‘What about my brother?’
‘Nothing. He’s just rather nice, that’s all.’
‘Isn’t that enough?’ Ellie teased. ‘So taking it that he’s the “he” in “he didn’t have to do this”, what didn’t he have to do?’
‘Could you pass me up my handbag, please?’ Artemis asked, eyeing Ellie in the mirror.
Ellie passed Artemis her purse from the bed. ‘You mean he didn’t have to take you to the awards.’
‘I seem to have lost my lipstick,’ Artemis said, having emptied the not inconsiderable contents of her purse on to the dressing table.
‘Sure he didn’t have to take you to the awards,’ Ellie agreed, picking the missing lipstick up off the floor. ‘Like you didn’t have to accept.’
‘It would have been rather rude not to, don’t you think?’
‘Maybe Patsy thought it would have been rather rude not to ask you,’ Ellie said poker-faced.
‘Yes,’ Artemis agreed, carefully applying the lightest of rouges to her mouth. ‘Probably.’ She rolled her lips together and then stared at herself in the mirror. ‘What do you think?’ she said, enquiring about her makeup. ‘Is that too much?’
In Sunshine Or In Shadow Page 45
