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Authors: Margaret Malcolm

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Suddenly she realized that Noel was watching
h
er intently, and though she made an excuse not to go to the drawing room after dinner, Noel managed to find an opportunity to say very quietly, “You know, we’ve never had that little chat I spoke of! I think it’s time we did, don’t you?”

“No,” Kit said bluntly.

Noel’s eyes narrowed.

“You remember, I asked you from whom you were going to take orders,” he remarked significantly.

“This has nothing to do—” Kit stopped suddenly, but she had already said too much.

“So there is something,” he said softly. “Yes, decidedly, we must have a talk ... soon!”

A few days later Victor came to spend the weekend. It was the first time since Kit had come to Moneyhill that he had stayed for longer than a few hours, and she felt a certain amount of apprehension, though she could not pin down the reason for it. Victor, after all, was showing absolutely no interest in her personally, and surely he would have found some opportunity for doing so before this if he had wanted to.

In this she proved to be right. Even before he actually arrived at Moneyhill, Victor found—or made—an opportunity for a confidential talk.

Returning from one of her short, brisk walks, Kit realized that a car had drawn up beside her. Victor leaned out.

“Hello, Kit!” he said breezily. “Jump in and I’ll give you a lift back to the house.”

One of Victor’s characteristics that had always irritated Kit was his supreme confidence that she would be only too pleased to fall in with his wishes. Despite her final dismissal of him four years ago, his complacent smile and the way he leaned over to open the passenger door showed that he had not changed in this respect “Thank you very much, Victor,” she said pleasantly, “but I came out for a walk to get some exercise and fresh air. And one doesn’t get either in a car, does one?”

Victor frowned.

“All right, I’ll be frank,” he conceded. “I want to have a talk with you ... about Mr. Baylis’s condition.”

Instantly, Kit was on her guard.

“Dr. Heathfield or Dr. Grainger will be able to give you far more satisfaction than I can.”

Victor surveyed her suspiciously.

“You’re being very cagey, aren’t you? That usually means things aren’t too good, doesn’t it?”

“It means that nurses don’t discuss their patients—even with old friends,” she added, guessing that the words were trembling on his lips.

Victor fidgeted momentarily with the steering wheel.

“Well, perhaps you’re right,” he admitted grudgingly. “Though all I wanted to know is how I’m to behave when I’m with Mr. Baylis. I mean, what orders have you been given about the way he’s to be treated? Surely you can tell me that!”

“Mrs. Baylis—”

“My dear girl, she takes caution to an extreme degree,” Victor said impatiently. “Or so it seems to me.”

“I can only tell you what Dr. Heathfield told Mr. Baylis,” she said coldly. And practically word for word she repeated the warnings Jason had so emphatically given.

“Hm. And how long does that stand?” he asked when she had finished.

“Until Dr. Heathfield gives fresh instructions,” Kit said firmly. “And now, I really must get on—”

“Wait a minute, Kit,” Victor urged. “Did Heathfield say whether Mr. Baylis might talk business?”

“Not in my hearing,” Kit admitted carefully. “But, as I said, he made it very clear that Mr. Baylis must not overtax himself in any way. I would say that covers business discussions.”

“Well, yes, if it was anything worrying,” Victor agreed. “But good news ... As a matter of fact, Kit, I’ve just finished going through the firm’s accounts for the year. It’s been a marvelously good year. Surely it couldn’t worry the old man to be told that?”

“I’m sorry, Victor, I can’t give you an opinion,” Kit said firmly. “I simply don’t know.”

“You’re not very helpful, are you?” Victor grumbled.

Kit shrugged her shoulders.

“Why not phone Dr. Heathfield or Dr. Grainger and ask them?” she suggested.

“Oh, that’s making altogether too much of it,” Victor said impatiently. “Better just avoid the subject, I suppose.”

“Well, if you can’t be bothered to take the obvious way out, it’s no doubt better to err on the safe side,” Kit told him.

And without waiting for his reply, she turned away from the car and resumed her walk back to the house. A moment later Victor shot past her. Uneasily Kit reflected that there was something characteristic in that. Somehow, Victor always contrived to get ahead of one.

Friday evening and most of Saturday passed without incident.

Then on Saturday evening Kit heard Victor’s voice, alarmed and placatory.

“Really, Mr. Baylis, you’re quite wrong! There’s no need for you to be upset! In fact, you mustn’t—”

“Damnation, I’m not a baby! I know what’s good for me and what isn’t! Go and get those accounts this minute! Do you hear? This minute!”

As Kit dashed toward the half-closed door, she heard a strangled, frightening sound ... and then silence.

Kit reached her patient just in time to keep him from pitching forward in his chair. Mr. Baylis’s face was leaden and his breath came in terrible, uneven gasps.

“Help me get him onto the sofa,” Kit said imperatively, and Victor, his face hardly better in color than Mr. Baylis’s, did as he was told.

“Kit, honestly I did my best,” he told her urgently. “But he went right off the deep end—”

“Be quiet!” Kit ordered. “Loosen his collar and tie while I go up and prepare an injection. And for heaven’s sake, don’t lose your head!”

She flew out into the hall, almost colliding with Mrs. Baylis. “Nurse, what’s the matter?”

“Mr. Baylis has had another attack,” Kit said, from halfway up the stairs. “I’m getting an injection for him. Please phone the doctor at once!”

Half an hour later, his patient as comfortable as he could be in the circumstances, Jason faced Mrs. Baylis, Victor and Noel.

“And now,” he said ominously. “I would like to know exactly what happened and why my orders have been so criminally ignored!”

CHAPTER FOUR

The shocked silence that followed Jason’s forthright attack seemed to Noel almost tangible. For a moment no one knew what to say.

Then Ruth Baylis, sitting very erect, took up the challenge.

“I find your manner both objectionable and inexplicable, Dr. Heathfield,” she said icily.

“Do you?” Jason was clearly not in the least quelled by her attitude. “Then I must make myself clear. I gave certain orders to you, Mrs. Baylis, to the effect that nothing must be done to cause Mr. Baylis distress of any sort. I find that those orders have been disobeyed, and as a result, my patient came very near to death. No, that is not an exaggeration, Mrs. Baylis,” he said in response to a protesting movement of Ruth’s hands. “I repeat very near to death. Surely you can see that I must know what and who is responsible in order that I can make sure it does not happen again. Unless I’m satisfied that a full and true account is given, I’ll be compelled to retire from the case.”

And he will, too,
Noel thought, half admiring, half resenting the man who so clearly had the courage of his convictions.
I wonder if they realize what they’re up against?

“Well?” Jason asked sharply.

Noel nodded.

“Fair enough,” he commented. “Unfortunately, I was out when it all happened, so I can’t give you firsthand information. But I understand that Mr. Wrinch was alone with my father at the time.”

Jason turned to Victor.

“Is that so, Mr. Wrinch?”

“Yes, it is,” Victor admitted, giving Noel a resentful look. “But I assure you that far from disobeying your orders, I was doing my best to carry them out.”

“Indeed? Then you seem to have been most unfortunate in your methods,” Jason said dryly. “May I have a detailed account of what happened?”

“Well...

Victor began unwillingly, “Mr. Baylis asked me if I had completed the firm’s accounts for the year. I gave him a vague answer that annoyed him. He told me that if they weren’t complete by now, they ought to be, and what was holding things up? Seeing that he was getting worked up, I admitted that actually they were complete. He became even more annoyed because he felt that he was being treated like a child and insisted on seeing a copy of the accounts. When I tried to persuade him that it would be better for him not to see them...

“Why did you do that, Victor?” Noel asked softly. “Is there something wrong with the accounts?”

“Certainly not!” Victor retorted indignantly. “But I was clearly given to understand that under no circumstances must Mr. Baylis be allowed to discuss business matters.”

“And who gave you to understand that?” No
e
l inquired.

“Nurse Cavendish!” Victor said triumphantly. “I took the trouble to ask her.”

For a moment Noel’s eyes met Jason’s, and a look of understanding passed between them.

“Of course,” Noel said to no one in particular, “there is always the possibility that Mr. Wrinch misunderstood Nurse Cavendish. How about asking her just what she did say?”

“An excellent idea, one I was just about to suggest,” Jason said blandly. “Mr. Baylis, I wonder if you would be so kind as to go upstairs and ask Dr. Grainger if he would mind staying with Mr. Baylis while Nurse comes down here for a few minutes?”

“Certainly,” Noel said with alacrity.

“There’s no need to do that,” Victor said hurriedly. “I may have misunderstood...”

But Noel was already on his way and returned a moment later with Kit.

Briefly Jason explained what he wanted to know, though without repeating Victor’s statement. Quietly and almost word for word, Kit repeated the conversation she had had with Victor, and when she had finished, Jason nodded.

“Now, let me get this quite clear, Nurse Cavendish,” he said deliberately. “On two occasions during this conversation you made it clear to Mr. Wrinch that if he wanted information about Mr. Baylis’s condition he should seek it either from Dr. Grainger or myself?”

“Yes, sir,” Kit confirmed.

“Why did you do that?” Jason asked.

“Because I was taught not to give an opinion about a patient except when asked for it by my superior,” Kit explained.

“Quite right,” Jason concurred.

“What I don’t understand is why, since Nurse Cavendish was so obviously reluctant to accept any responsibility, she did not phone for an opinion herself,” Ruth said coldly.

“What I don’t understand is why Victor is spending the weekend here,” Noel retorted. “And still less do I understand why in the world he should be such a fool as to have a copy of the accounts with him. No, I’m sorry, Ruth,” as she was obviously about to protest, “but this has got to be said. Victor knew perfectly well that father was likely to mention the accounts. It’s the time of year when they’re drawn up. He also knew that once father knew he had a copy here, he’d insist on seeing them. And finally we know, as a .family, something that the three people who are looking after father can’t know, namely that if he’s crossed, he digs his heels in and gets worked up! The fact of the matter is, Victor, you made a thorough botch of the situation, and as a result, father has suffered.”

And then, to the amazement of both Kit and Jason, Ruth nodded.

“I must say I rather agree with that, Victor,” she said critically. “At the very least, if you were not sure what to do, you could have said you didn’t have a copy here. That would have given us time...

Noel stood up.

“Well, that seems to be that,” he remarked lazily. “I take it, Dr. Heathfield, that you’re completely satisfied with Nurse Cavendish’s explanation? You have, of course, noticed that Mr. Wrinch did not contradict any of her statements?”

“Yes,” Jason replied. “I have observed that, and I’m satisfied that Nurse Cavendish acted quite properly.”

“Doubtless Mr. Wrinch felt he was acting for the best,” Ruth said, “but I can’t help feeling he was most tactless. There is, however, this excuse for him. I do feel that my husband has been quite marvelous in the way he has set aside his business cares since his illness. I think perhaps it has put us all off our guard to some extent.”

“Yes, you’re quite right. It has been amazing,” Noel observed thoughtfully. “But then he does know everything is in your very competent hands, doesn’t he, Ruth?”

To three people there was an unmistakable current of irony underlying Noel’s question. All eyes turned to Ruth.

She, however, appeared to accept what he had said at its face value. “Yes,” she replied, smiling wistfully yet proudly. “He trusts me absolutely. And I will not fail him.”

“My own fault,” Mr. Baylis whispered to Kit the next morning. “I forgot all that Heathfield had said.” He sighed. “It isn’t easy for an old dog to learn new tricks. But I can see I shall have to.”

“I’m afraid you will,” Kit said sympathetically. She was thankful her patient was taking it so well, for had he blamed someone else for his condition, he might have found it even more difficult to lie quietly. All the same, she blamed herself. She had known Victor in the past ... quite well enough to have guessed...

Well, guessed what? Kit wrinkled up her forehead, unable to express the thought that lay somewhere at the back of her mind. But in general terms, she shouldn’t have left anything to chance. When Victor said it wasn’t worth bothering Jason or Dr. Grainger with his question, she could not make him change his mind. But she could have taken that step herself. And though she knew that it was useless to worry about that now, she knew she would always regret the omission. Nor was she made any less troubled by the fact that Jason insisted that for the time being it would be necessary to bring in another nurse.

She accepted his statement without comment, but he must have read her thoughts for he continued, “And don’t look so reproachful because it means you won’t be able to work yourself like a galley slave to make up for what has happened. I want someone on guard twenty-four hours a day, and you know as well as I do that’s beyond the power of one person. Now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Kit admitted, but the trouble did not clear from her face.

“Kit, you mustn’t take it so to heart,” Jason said earnestly. “Don’t you see, even if you had got in touch with me, I would have almost certainly said exactly what you did.”

“But I should have known better,” Kit said quickly.

“Why?” Jason asked bluntly.

“Because I know Victor,” Kit explained. “And I knew that he was disappointed at the idea of not showing Mr. Baylis the report.”

“Yes?” Jason encouraged softly.

“Victor likes things to go the way he wants them,” Kit said slowly. “When they don’t ... well, I should have known that he couldn’t make more than a half-hearted attempt at heading Mr. Baylis off. He couldn’t be convincing, you see.” Her voice trailed away, and for a moment there was silence.

Then, suddenly, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Kit,” he said urgently, “tell me...

At that precise moment, Noel entered the room. Jason’s hand dropped.

“Am I butting in on a conference?” Noel asked. “I won’t keep you a moment. I just wanted to say, Heathfield, how grateful I am for the way you tackled the situation—and I hope my interpolations didn’t put you off your stroke?”

“You were most helpful,” Jason said with an earnestness that surprised Kit. “What with your efforts—and other things—I’ve got to the bottom of quite a lot of things that have puzzled me.”

“Yes?” Noel looked interested, but as Jason said no more he went on, “Wrinch is a difficult beggar to pin down. He’s left, by
the way
. Seems he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.”

“Good,” Jason said laconically.

And that was all. Jason made no attempt to return to the conversation that Noel had interrupted—indeed, he had no opportunity of doing so. As a result, Kit was left in a more confused state of mind than she had known since, years before, she had received Jason’s farewell letter.

His manner toward her had changed completely from a professional to a friendly one. He had called her by her first name, and his touch on her shoulder had been almost a caress...

What had he been going to say to her? Would he ever tell her? Or was she indulging in wishful thinking about something really quite unimportant?

On the surface, at least, life in the household settled back into an orderly routine. And with Nurse Stoke to help her, Kit had far more time to herself. Consequently, when she had a letter from Miss Catchpole inviting her to tea, she could find no excuse for refusing, although she was not at all sure that she wanted a
téte
-a-
téte
with that shrewd old lady.

However, to begin with, Miss Catchpole was discretion itself. She asked after Kit’s family, and Kit, welcoming such a safe topic, gave her all the details.

“And now, tell me about yourself,” Miss Catchpole suggested. “You told me you finished your training. Let me see, which hospital did you go to?”

“St. Magnus’s,” Kit replied, and with a sinking heart saw Miss Catchpole’s face light up.

“Why, that’s where the man they called in to see Mr. Baylis came from, isn’t it?” she pounced. “Heathcliff or something.”

“Heathfield,” Kit corrected mechanically. “Yes, he did.”

“And did you know him?”

“He was there when I started my training,” Kit admitted. But if she thought that brief answers would choke off Miss Catchpole, she was mistaken. It only served to make her curious.

“And you were great friends?” she suggested meaningly, her dark, beady eyes intent on Kit’s face.

Kit managed to laugh.

“If you knew
anything
about hospital life, Miss Catchpole, you’d know that not only is friendship between doctors and nurses severely discouraged, but there is very little opportunity for its development!”

“Rubbish, my dear,” Miss Catchpole said firmly. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way! And you were a very pretty girl in those days—you still are, though you look a bit drawn to me. Having difficulties at Moneyhill? Well, I did warn you, didn’t I?”

“Miss Catchpole, really!” Kit. protested. “You know, you’re very naughty! You let your imagination run away with you.”

“No, my dear, that’s just what I don’t do,” her hostess assured her. “The only thing I take any interest in is facts—undeniable facts. That’s why I always ask questions of people who are in a position to know the truth.” She was silent for a long moment and then suddenly said, “That’s why I want you to tell me what really happened about Lena Palmer!”

“Lena Palmer?” Kit repeated blankly. “Who’s she?”

Miss Catchpole tutted impatiently.

“Now don’t pretend you don’t know, my dear! The story is all over the village—if you can call it that these days—and you must have heard something about it, living in the same house!”

“Miss Catchpole, I assure you that I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about,” Kit insisted. “You must believe me, because it’s quite true.”

The old eyes raked her shrewdly.

“I believe you’re telling me the truth,” she said at last. “And come to think of it, you may never have heard the girl’s name. You wouldn’t come in contact with her, of course. Well, I’ll tell you. She was a kitchen maid at Moneyhill, and since you’ve been there, she was summarily dismissed—without a character reference and without any salary in lieu of notice. In disgrace, in other words.”

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