Impetuous Masquerade. Anne Mather
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of times she had been called upon to mediate when some irate employer had called demanding to know her sister’s whereabouts, and she had eventually been forced to write to their father and ask him to take Valentina in hand.
The upshot of this had been that Valentina had agreed to try her hand at nursing, and six months ago she had enrolled as a student nurse at one of the local teaching hospitals. She seemed to like it, and Rhia had breathed a sigh of relief, praying that Val would learn to be more responsible. After all, she was eighteen, old enough to be regarded as an adult. She had even found herself a boy-friend, and although Rhia had never met him, she was reassured to learn that he was a student at the London School of Economics. Apparently, his name was Glyn Frazer and he was a Canadian, and although Rhia had her doubts as to how long such a relationship could last, she was glad that Valentina seemed to be settling down at last.
Yet now here she was, phoning her sister at nine-thirty in the morning, evidently in some distress over some new disaster. Rhia used the word ‘disaster’ advisedly; all Valentina’s problems seemed to assume such unnatural proportions.
‘So why do you want to see me, Val?’ she enquired now. ‘If it’s so important, tell me now. I’ll see what I can do.’
‘I can’t—that is, I can’t talk over the phone,’ insisted Valentina desperately. ‘Rhia, you’ve got to make time. I’m on duty again at eight o’clock.’
Rhia expelled her breath resignedly. So at least Val hadn’t lost her job, she reflected thankfully. Whatever it was, it was outside the hospital, and surely anything else could not be so important.
‘Val——’
‘Rhia, please——’
‘Oh, very well.’ Rhia gave in, as she generally did, she conceded to herself ruefully, and drew her dark brows together. ‘How about lunch? I could manage to get over to St Mary’s for about one o’clock, if that’s any use to you.’
‘Oh, yes. Yes!’ Valentina was fervent.
‘But don’t you have to rest?’ Even now, Rhia was still mildly suspicious. ‘I mean—if you’re on nights——’
‘Last night was my night off,’ explained Valentina hastily. ‘See you soon,’ and she rang off before Rhia could think of any more questions.
Nevertheless, that didn’t prevent her sister from spending the rest of the morning brooding over why Valentina should want to see her, and why there was such urgency about it. She couldn’t think of any reason why the younger girl should be so distressed, and as with all such probings, Rhia’s sense of foreboding grew. She couldn’t help remembering how irresponsible Valentina had been prior to taking the job at St Mary’s, and how often she had been called upon to lend her money or pay her bills or simply bail her out of some particularly difficult situation. Something had gone wrong, that much was obvious. Rhia only hoped it was nothing more than another unpaid debt.
The company for whom Rhia worked had their offices in Kensington, which meant she was within walking distance of the apartment. It was an added bonus to a job she had grown to like, and since she had become secretary to one of the company’s directors, the increase in salary had enabled her to cope with the increase in its rent. Valentina’s contribution to the apartment’s upkeep had ceased entirely, since she spent most of the week in her accommodation at the nurses’ home, and since St Mary’s was south of the Thames, there was no question of her commuting.
When Rhia left the office at lunchtime it was raining, and the seasonable downpour had filled all the buses. Deciding she might as well use the tube, she squelched her way along the High Street, and squashed on to the train that would take her to the Embankment.
It was late when she arrived at Balham, and she still had a ten-minute walk to the hospital. She guessed Valentina would be awaiting her at the gates, where they had met on the few occasions Rhia had visited the hospital, and she saw her sister’s dejected figure as soon as she turned into Morton Street.
The rain had eased a little, but it was still drizzling, and Rhia’s showerproof jacket was soaked. As, too, was her hair, she realised impatiently, wondering for the umpteenth time why she didn’t simply have it cut. It was far too long and cumbersome for a girl in her position, and it spent its days either plaited into braids, or, as today, coiled in a damp chignon at her nape.
‘Rhia!’
Valentina had seen her and came hurrying down the street towards her, a pathetic figure in her jeans and yellow anorak. Considering the difference in their ages, they were remarkably alike, thought Rhia, as the other girl approached. Both tall and fair-haired, though it was true that Valentina was the slimmer and her hair was short.
‘Thanks for coming,’ the younger girl said now, tucking her arm through Rhia’s, her pale face eloquent of the fact that this was not something Rhia could iron out in the space of a few minutes. ‘Let’s go to the pub. We can get a meat pie or a sandwich there.’
Rhia’s hesitation was scarcely noticeable, and she fell into step beside her sister without a word. She would have preferred that they had a cup of tea and a sandwich in Val’s room at the nurses’ home, where surely they could have had a more private conversation.
‘What a day!’ Valentina commented as they walked the few yards to the Crown and Anchor. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t come. God, what a mess I’ve got myself into!’ and her voice broke again.
Rhia was concerned, but a group of people emerging from the door of the public house prevented any rejoinder, and not until they had been served with a cheese roll each and a dry Martini with soda did she get the chance to make any comment.
They managed to find a quiet corner, away from the noisy atmosphere of the bar, and although there was nowhere to sit down, Rhia insisted that it would do. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Whatever’s happened? You look like you haven’t slept for a week.’
Valentina drew a steady breath and took a gulp of her Martini and soda. ‘I feel like I haven’t,’ she confessed fervently. ‘Oh, Rhia, it’s just awful! Glyn’s been badly hurt!’
For a moment, an uncharitable feeling of relief swept over Rhia. So it was Glyn who was in trouble, not Val, she thought, with weak reassurance. No matter how bad it was, Val was not involved, and for that Rhia was grateful.
‘What happened?’ she asked now, able to give her sister her full sympathy now that she knew, or could guess, how Valentina was feeling. ‘How did it happen? How badly hurt is he?’
Valentina caught her breath. ‘He—he’s still unconscious. He hasn’t come round.’
Rhia frowned. ‘You mean there was an accident? Val darling, I know you’re very upset, but you’ve got to try and be a little more coherent.’
Valentina swallowed. ‘There—there was a crash, yes.’
‘A car crash?’
Valentina nodded, and Rhia’s tongue emerged to circle her dry lips. It would be futile to admit that she had worried on more than one occasion about her sister, since Val had told her Glyn had acquired a fast sports car. It had seemed such a fragile defence against any other vehicle, and she had had to steel her emotions when Val spoke of its speed and acceleration. But at least Val had not been hurt.
‘Where is he?’ she asked, and Valentina blinked.
‘Where is he?’ she echoed. ‘Why, in—in the hospital, of course. Where else would he be?’
‘But what hospital?’ persisted Rhia patiently. ‘Not St Mary’s, I’m sure.’
‘Oh, no.’ Valentina put an abstracted hand to her temple. ‘He—he’s in Jude’s. They took him there, after the accident.’ She shook her head. ‘He looked terrible. I—I thought at first that—that he was dead.’
Rhia put out a hand and squeezed her sister’s arm affectionately. ‘Poor Val, no wonder you’re in such a state. But how is he? I mean—do the doctors