Sweet Sanctuary

by Charlotte Lamb

  "Will you tell your aunt?" she asked nervously when she came into the kitchen a moment later in one of her new skirts, the calf-length black one, teamed with the green crepe blouse.

  "Afraid to do so?" he derided, his eyes skimming over her without a change in his grim expression.

  "She's probably asleep," she excused. "I don't want to wake her for no good reason."

  He shrugged. "Oh, very well, I'll tell her. What about my supper?"

  "Cold meat and salad," she said, indicating the refrigerator.

  "It won't work, you know," he said suddenly.

  She was confused. "What won't work?"

  "I'm not going to be stung into a display of jealousy!"

  She was very still, her face crimson, her legs trembling so much that she wanted to sit down. In a hoarse, alien voice, she said, "What are you talking about?" and laughed. It was a weak, rather self-conscious little laugh, but it had a decided effect.

  Nicholas gave her a furious look and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a bang that made her ears buzz horribly for a full minute afterwards.

  Kate put her hands to her hot face and groaned. "I wish I'd never come to this house! I wish I'd never set eyes on any of them!"

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Next morning, after feeding the animals and milking the goats, Kate took Mrs. Butler up some breakfast on a tray, and found the old lady sitting up in her bed with a grim expression on her face.

  The curtains were drawn, a window wide open. The fresh, cool morning air blew in across the room.

  "You shouldn't have got out of bed," Kate scolded, putting the tray down on the bedside table and rushing round the bed to close the window. "And you shouldn't have windows open when you've got 'flu."

  "Why did you go out with Jimmy Whitney again last night?" Mrs. Butler's voice was brusque and tinged with challenge.

  Kate came back to the bedside and gently pulled the covers up, smoothed the tumbled pillows. She placed the tray on the bed in front of Mrs. Butler.

  "You are going to eat this, aren't you? You must eat something this morning."

  Mrs. Butler looked at the carefully arranged tray. There was a boiled egg, under a knitted cosy, a small china pot of tea and a glass of orange juice. Slender fingers of thin bread and butter, a pot of marmalade and a delicate flower-painted porcelain cup. In a tiny matching vase Kate had arranged some primroses with the dew on their golden centres.

  With a sigh, the old woman pushed the tray away. "Kate, why did you go out with Jimmy last night? Why didn't you stay at home here?"

  "You know why," Kate said quietly.

  "Your scruples are ridiculous, my dear," said Mrs. Butler.

  "Please eat something… some bread and butter?" Kate sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the glass of orange juice. As though she were feeding a child she held the glass to the tired old mouth, Mrs. Butler obediently sipped.

  When she had drunk most of the juice Kate began to feed her with the bread and butter. Mrs. Butler complained weakly, but did not push the food away. She even allowed Kate to feed her with some of the egg. Then Kate poured her some tea, and sat down to watch her drink it from a chair beside the bed.

  "Nick wants me to leave here," Kate said at last. "He was very angry with both of us yesterdays I think he's right—I should go."

  "Not yet," Mrs. Butler pleaded. "Promise to stay for a little while, I need you." She lay back against the pillows with a gesture of weariness. "I feel so tired, Kate."

  Kate was alarmed. She put one hand to the pulse which beat at the base of Mrs. Butler's throat. The pulse was almost indefinable. She gently encircled the thin wrist. Here again, the pulse beat slow and faint. There was no colour in Mrs. Butler's face. Her eyes were dimmed, as though the vivid flash of their blue had been dowsed by illness.

  "I'll call the doctor again," said Kate, getting up. She took the tray downstairs and rang the doctor. He sounded concerned when she mentioned the weakness of Mrs. Butler's pulse, and promised to come as soon as he could.

  "Make her rest. Has she eaten?"

  "Very little. I was worried about it."

  "Don't force her to eat. If she's ill she'll lose her appetite. Best not to force her."

  Kate went back upstairs and found Mrs. Butler almost asleep, her lids lowered over the blue eyes, her hands lying on the coverlet in relaxed repose. The thin, fragile lids rose. The blue eyes looked gently at Kate.

  "Promise…" The whisper came so faintly that Kate had to bend to her to hear what she said.

  Kate understood her. She put a hand over one of the delicate hands on the coverlet. "I promise," she said gently.

  The fingers trembled, then were still. Kate watched and heard the breathing become regular, the features composed. When she was certain that Mrs. Butler was asleep she stole gently away, leaving the door open so that she could hear if she was called.

  She found Mrs. Pepper busy downstairs, and explained to her about Mrs. Butler's illness. Mrs. Pepper was very upset.

  "Oh, dear, poor old thing! And she's so healthy, as a rule. I hope it's nothing worse than a touch of 'flu. At that age they can pop off as quick as a candle blowing out."

  "Don't!" Kate's voice was harsh. She stiffened, half angry, half terrified.

  Mrs. Pepper looked at her in surprise. "I'm sorry, dear, I was just speaking aloud."

  Kate was very pale. "I'm sorry if I spoke abruptly. I've got very fond of Mrs. Butler."

  "She's a bit cantankerous over some things," Mrs. Pepper said thoughtfully. "But there's something about her, all right. She's like this house—quality. It tells, doesn't it?"

  Kate looked at the warm, sunlit kitchen. "Yes," she said slowly. "Quality tells."

  "Lucky she's got you to look after her animals," Mrs. Pepper said. "She'd be worrying if she hadn't." After a silent pause, she asked, "Have you rung Mr. Nick?"

  "He knows she has 'flu," Kate said tautly.

  "I'm surprised he went to work, then. Very fond of his aunt, he is, very fond."

  Kate thought about what Mrs. Pepper had said for the rest of that long, anxious day. The doctor came and pronounced Mrs. Butler to be distinctly worse. She was now very flushed, heavily sleepy and fighting for breath.

  "Her lungs are very congested. I'll give you something for that. It will help a little, but there's not really much I can do at this stage. It must run its course."

  "She sounds so ill now—her breathing is frightening."

  The doctor stood beside the bed, watching Mrs. Butler's face with a little frown. "Yes, but I hope that that will clear a little later today. The main thing is that her heart is sound enough to cope with this additional strain."

  "Is her heart sound?" Kate studied his eyes as he replied to her anxious question.

  He looked uncertain for a second or two, then he said slowly, "I hope so."

  She would have pressed the matter further, but he turned away and began to write out a prescription. His writing was totally indecipherable, a toppling scrawl that baffled the keenest eyes. He tore the sheet off the pad and handed it to her.

  "Have this made up at once!"

  As he picked up his bag and departed Kate followed him down the stairs. At the foot she caught at his sleeve and looked up into his face.

  "I'm here alone. I can't leave her. Should I ring Nick and get him to come home to fetch the prescription?"

  "Yes, I should do that!" He nodded, not unkindly, and walked towards the front door. She let him out and stood nervously, staring at nothing, in the musty gloom of the hall.

  Nick's secretary was sympathetic, when she rang his office, but unable to be of much help.

  "He isn't here."

  "Oh, dear!" Kate was distracted with worry. "Do you know when he'll be back? Where I could get in touch with him?"

  "Is it urgent?" The girl was curious.

  "Very urgent. His aunt is ill. He's needed here."

  The girl hesitated. "I don't actually know where he is, you see—
he didn't say where he was going. But he drove past here an hour ago with his fiancée in the passenger seat, so he might be at her place."

  Kate swallowed on a wave of pain and sick jealousy. "I see. Thank you, I'll try her. Have you got her number?"

  The girl gave it to her. Kate wrote the number on the top of the telephone directory in a wavering scrawl. She stood for a long moment, staring at the now silent telephone, then forced herself to pick up the receiver.

  Sylvia answered, her voice clear and holding a hint of cold irritation.

  "Is Nick there?" Kate was so nervous that she spoke abruptly. There was a little silence at the other end.

  Then Sylvia said curtly, "No," and slammed the telephone down with a crash that made Kate's ear reverberate for minutes on end.

  What should she do now? She must get someone to collect the prescription which the doctor had said must reach Mrs. Butler as soon as possible, yet she dared not leave the house. Mrs. Butler needed constant attention. Every moment in which she was left alone was a dangerous moment. Kate stood, biting her lip, staring around her in absolute panic.

  Then she pulled herself together. Jimmy! A smile of relief touched her mouth and she ran to the telephone again.

  Jimmy was, luckily, in the house when she rang, and when she explained her dilemma was cheerfully willing to do whatever he could to help.

  "Glad to do anything! I'll be there in five minutes. Keep cheerful!" He rang off, and she stood for a second longer, feeling the relief welling up inside her chest.

  She ran upstairs to check on Mrs. Butler's condition, and was delighted to find her sleeping deeply. Her face was very flushed, her breathing choked, but after Kate's recent alarms the old lady's real condition was in a way a faint relief. Kate had been imagining her to be much worse than this, and although she was still very anxious, she now felt more confident as she returned to the kitchen to wait for Jimmy. She made a large jug of cold lemonade, added ice and a packet of straws and put them all on a tray, to take them upstairs to Mrs. Butler later.

  Jimmy arrived soon after she had completed these preparations. She gave him the prescription, thanking him again for his help.

  "Think nothing of it! I'm glad to do anything I can. What are neighbours for, after all? When she's better, you can come over and cook a meal for Dad and myself. That will make the old man really happy. He asked me to tell you that if you need a sick nurse he's willing to come over and sit with Mrs. Butler for a few hours. He says it's quite respectable because he's known her for so long."

  "That was very kind of him," she smiled. "I'm sure Mrs. Butler would be touched if she knew."

  Jimmy looked at her soberly. "Is she very ill? I can't believe it! Aunt Elaine has always seemed so strong —I can't remember her having a day's illness before."

  "She looks ill," Kate said slowly. "But I can't be sure just how bad it is—the doctor is very noncommittal. You know what they can be like. He says very little, but I thought he looked worried when he was here last. At her age it's so hard to say. It's the same with children. They can look as if they're at death's door, yet be up and about in twenty-four hours."

  Jimmy watched her closely. "Does Aunt Elaine look as if she's at death's door?"

  Kate hesitated, then nodded in silence. Jimmy, equally silently, patted her shoulder.

  "I'll be back with this prescription in half an hour or so. I'll have to drive into town to pick it up. The only dispensing chemist for miles around, you know. Disgraceful, isn't it?"

  When he had gone, Kate went upstairs to the bedroom with her tray. She had made herself a cup of coffee. She sat down beside Aunt Elaine, settled herself and drank her coffee slowly. Once she had made certain that the old lady was still deeply asleep, she began to read the book she had brought up, a collection of short stories. Her mind could not concentrate, however. Her thoughts kept wandering. Each tiny alteration in her companion's breathing made her sit up, alert and anxious. Mrs. Butler appeared to be slowly getting worse. Or, she wondered, was that only her anxiety playing tricks on her?

  If only I knew more about nursing, Kate thought unhappily, She had nursed her aunt, but that had been a totally different illness, a long, unchanging condition which had given her no sudden crisis to cope with.

  Once the congested lungs brought about a fit of violent coughing. Kate hurriedly helped Mrs. Butler to sit up, supporting her gently. Then she gave her some lemonade to sip, once the coughing had stopped, and Mrs. Butler drank thirstily.

  As Kate laid her down again, propped up on pillows, the fragile lids rose and the blue eyes flashed into focus.

  "Kate…" The thready voice was almost inaudible, and she bent to catch the words. "Kate, thank you…" Husky, panted out, the words brought tears to her eyes.

  Kate smiled, "Silly!"

  Mrs. Butler sketched an answering smile, weak, wavering, full of affection.

  The pattern was laid down. When Jimmy came quietly up the stairs and brought the medicine prescribed by the doctor, he found Kate again supporting the old lady, offering her another drink of lemonade. Jimmy stood, watching them in silence. When Kate had laid Mrs. Butler down again, she turned her head to smile at him.

  "You were quicker than I'd dared hope!"

  He came across the room and gave her the package. "How is she? She looks terrible." He spoke softly, so as not to disturb the patient, but Kate looked at her in alarm, then shook her head at Jimmy in warning.

  She tiptoed across the room, and he followed her. On the landing she smiled at him.

  "Sorry, but I don't want to frighten her. Confidence can be very important in an illness."

  "I'm sorry," he corrected her. "It was a dumb thing to say. I just assumed that she was past hearing me. She looks as if only a bomb would bring her out of it."

  Kate frowned. "She is very ill, yes. I wish I could get hold of Nick."

  "Tried his office?"

  She looked at him in wry amusement, and he grimaced. "Of course," he said. "Stupid of me! He wasn't there? Didn't they know where he was?"

  "They thought he was at Sylvia's, but when I rang, Sylvia said he wasn't there."

  "I expect he'll ring as soon as he hears you've been asking for him." Jimmy looked at her sharply. "You think Aunt Elaine is that bad, then? Bad enough for it to be a matter of urgency to find Nick?"

  Kate shrugged helplessly. "I can't be certain. The doctor is no help. I can only go on what I feel—and I feel worried."

  "I can see you do," Jimmy murmured. "Is there anything else I can do to help? Have you eaten since breakfast?"

  She looked at him in complete astonishment. "Eaten?" Then she gasped as he showed her his watch. "Is that the time? Good heavens. I had no idea!"

  "You forgot to have lunch?"

  "I'd forgotten there was such a meal," she laughed.

  "Are you hungry?"

  Her stomach answered her, suddenly violently aware of the long gap between meals, and she groaned.

  "Starving, it appears."

  "Stay with Aunt Elaine. I'll get us both a scratch meal. Do you like omelettes? I can do a decent omelette."

  "I love them!"

  "Right—two omelettes coming up!" He grinned, patted her cheek and said softly, "Stop looking so anxious. Go back in there and watch her, but look cheerful. If she sees you with a face like that she'll think her days really are numbered."

  Kate mustered a smile and obeyed him. By the time he returned to the bedroom with a tray she had fed Aunt Elaine with the cool lemonade several times, and she fancied that there was a faint but distinct change for the better.

  "Her temperature seems to be breaking. She's perspired since the last drink I gave her—the liquid and the aspirins are having an effect."

  "Have you given her some of the medicine, too?"

  She nodded, then took the tray he handed her and admired his handiwork.

  He had created a beautifully golden-brown omelette, out of which tomatoes peeped at one side, and had heaped her plate with crisp f
resh salad, too. Thin bread and butter, and an apple, with some fresh coffee, completed the meal.

  "Jimmy, you've missed your vocation—you're a born cook!" He grinned. "Eat the omelette while it's hot. I'll be downstairs if you want me. I rang my father and told him I'd be here until Nick got back, so don't worry about anything. I'll be permanently on call while you need me."

  She looked at him in gratitude. "This is really very sweet of you, Jimmy. I don't know what to say."

  "Don't say anything. Glad to be of help." He left hurriedly, looking embarrassed.

  The long hours dragged by, the afternoon drew towards evening, and still Nick did not come home. Kate once or twice wondered if she should ring his office again, but she hesitated to do so now that Mrs. Butler was showing signs of some improvement. Nick would think she had panicked unnecessarily.

  After his brutal remarks about her intentions towards Sanctuary, she certainly did not want to give him any grounds for believing that she was still pursuing him. Her pride stung too bitterly for that. At six o'clock, Jimmy insisted on relieving her at her post for half an hour, at least, and she left him in the bedroom watching Mrs. Butler while she freshened up in the bathroom and then went to the kitchen to prepare an evening meal.

  Jimmy had taken care of the animals for her. The dogs surged out from their usual corners to greet her ecstatically as she entered, their greeting more excited than ever after the long quiet day during which they had sensed, with their keen intuition about atmosphere, the strain which had infected the whole house. She could tell from their darting looks at the doors, their little whines of query, that they were disturbed by Mrs. Butler's unusual absence.

  "There isn't much we can hide from you, is there?" She rubbed Punch's ears, and he grew dreamy-eyed with pleasure. "Did Jimmy give you your dinner?"

  "What's Jimmy doing here?" The terse question made her swing round in astonishment. Nicholas' stood in the doorway, his brow stormy.

  "Oh, Nick, there you are!" Relief at the sight of him made her babble. "I wondered when you would get here… I thought you'd disappeared off the face of the earth…"