Come Running. Anne Mather
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“I don’t know,” he replied. “She wanted to go with Matt and the others, but there wasn’t room in the car and she wasn’t suited.”
“There wasn’t room in the car …?” Darrell looked confused. “Why? What sort of car was it?”
“Oh, it’s a big B.M.W.,” remarked Jeff enviously. “But all the kids wanted to go. You know. Evelyn’s two and our Jennifer’s Christine. They wanted to go out to the airport, so Matt said they could.”
“I see,” Darrell nodded.
“Anyway, they should have been back by now. They’d have been here already, but the flight was delayed an hour. One of those last-minute hitches. Hey – I made a pun! Did you notice that? A hitch for the hitched!”
He laughed and Penny and her boy-friend and one or two of the others who had been dancing came to see what was so funny. There was a lot of goodnatured chaffing going on and Darrell turned away, raising her arms to tug her fingers through her tangled hair. The effort tautened the material of her shirt across her breasts, although she was unaware of it, but as she stood there straightening her arms into a stretch she became aware of the group of young people just entering the lounge, and over their heads her eyes encountered the dark eyes of Matthew Lawford. There was a disturbing moment when he held her gaze, and then she turned abruptly away, catching Jeff’s arm and saying: “I thought you asked me to dance!”
The alarm rang insistently, and Darrell groaned and rolled over to switch it off. Seven o’clock! Who would choose to get up at such an unearthly hour? she thought impatiently, sliding out of bed before succumbing once more to the waves of drowsiness that were tugging at her consciousness. She spared a thought for Susan as she dressed, waking on the morning after her wedding night. Darrell decided wryly that whatever she might be doing at this moment, it would not entail swallowing a hasty breakfast and reporting for ward duty at eight a.m.
The hospital was only a ten-minute walk away from the flat, and this morning the sun was forcing its way through the low-hanging clouds as Darrell set off. Now that she was fully awake, she was glad she was going to work. The brisk routine of the hospital would give her little time to dwell on the disturbing aspects of the previous day’s events.
Not that anything particularly momentous had happened, she acknowledged. Her feelings were the result of an over-active imagination and Matthew Lawford had treated her no differently from any one of the other girls present at the reception. But for her there had been something – something in the way he looked at her, in the way he spoke to her, which, whether he intended it or not, and she was sure he didn’t, had disrupted her emotions to a disquieting extent.
She had told herself it was the wine, that she was un-accustomed to alcohol, but in fact she had not drunk a lot. Nevertheless, it had been a shattering experience to realise that in spite of always believing herself capable of controlling any situation, he had disconcerted her without any apparent effort on his part. It was galling. She felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush, and she despised herself for it. The more so because Matthew Lawford was not only way out of her sphere, but married as well. He might be Susan’s brother, he might be able to submerge his personality into his brothers’ mould when it suited him to do so – but basically he was different, and that, no doubt, was why Celine had married him.
Celine!
Darrell could not suppress a shiver when she recalled the scene which had taken place the night before after Matthew’s return from Leeds.
Until then, Celine had not been in evidence, but it had turned out later that she had been lying down upstairs, ostensibly nursing a headache. As soon as her husband returned, however, she came downstairs, still wearing the turquoise crêpe dress she had worn for the wedding, which now looked rather creased.
Darrell had been dancing with Mike Lawford, another of the brothers. Without admitting it to herself, she had been staying with the younger members of the family deliberately, avoiding any possible contact with Matthew. But she had been unable to avoid overhearing the words that had passed between them. Celine had been determined that everyone should hear.
She had begun by complaining that she couldn’t possibly stay in the house a moment longer, her head was throbbing, she said, and the music was driving her mad. To be charitable, Darrell had had to concede that if Celine did indeed have a headache, she might well have been feeling desperate, but it soon became apparent that this was not the only reason why she wanted to leave. As her voice became shriller and her words more slurred, Darrell realised that Celine was more than a little intoxicated.
Matthew had endeavoured to persuade her, mildly at first, that he couldn’t leave yet, that he had only just arrived, and that his parents expected him to stay. His mother, joining them, had even suggested that perhaps Celine might like to go home with Evelyn when she took the younger children to bed, and stay the night there where it would be peaceful.
But Celine wanted none of this. The prospect of spending the night with any of Matthew’s relatives was clearly not a good idea so far as she was concerned, and she demanded that Matthew go and book her a suite of rooms in the best hotel in town.
And this was when the argument had become less tolerant. Matthew had stated flatly that he had no intention of booking rooms in any hotel when his own family were perfectly prepared to accommodate them, and when Celine started to criticise his family he told her bluntly that he would not bring the Lawford name into disrepute in the town by revealing his wife’s imperfections.
It had become a terrible slanging match, with Matthew controlling his temper admirably. Inevitably, Celine had burst into tears and Mrs. Lawford, with her innate kindness, had led her daughter-in-law away and calmed her with coffee and aspirins.
But Celine’s behaviour had put a damper on the party, and when Jeff suggested that he and Darrell and some of the others went on to the nightclub in the town, they had all been eager to agree. Consequently, Darrell had arrived home in the early hours of the morning feeling exhausted and distinctly depressed.
Sunday was not usually a busy day at the Sedgeley General and the morning dragged by until lunchtime when there was an emergency appendectomy in the theatre. Darrell had her lunch with Carol Withers, a fellow staff nurse, in the hospital canteen, and then returned to the surgical ward until the evening. Visitors were allowed for two hours during the afternoon, and as there were no further emergencies, Darrell was able to write up her reports in Sister’s office without interruption. There was a minor upheaval soon after tea when the patient who had had the appendectomy recovered consciousness and was sick all over his bed, but the sheets were soon changed and Darrell spent several minutes assuring the poor man that he had not been the nuisance he imagined. Then it was time to hand over to the night staff, and Darrell collected her cape and handbag and left the building.
It had been an unsettled day, periodically raining and then becoming sunny, but the evening was quite delightful, the sky almost completely rid of the clouds which had caused the showers. She walked down Hollyhurst Road feeling more relaxed than she had done walking up it that morning, and was shocked out of her reverie when a long gunmetal grey car pulled alongside her. She didn’t recognise the car. It belonged to no one she knew, she was sure – an impression which was quickly allayed when Matthew Lawford climbed out.
He was wearing a dark suit in some sort of soft suede, and his tie was very black against his white shirt. The thick brown hair lay smoothly against his head, and his thick lashes hid the expression in his eyes. There were lines beside his mouth which she didn’t think had been there yesterday, and a feathering of anticipation slid along her spine.
“Hello, Darrell,” he greeted her quietly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“For me?” Darrell glanced all round her, as though she couldn’t believe he was addressing her, but the road was almost deserted. Then she looked into the car, and it was empty, too. Hot colour ran up her cheeks. “I – I don’t understand.”