Come Running

“We hadn’t heard any news, you see,” she said, shaking her head. “Not having the television on, or anything. Frank’s family were getting ready to go home when these policemen came to the door.”

“It must have been terrible,” put in Darrell sympathetically, and Laura nodded.

“It was – terrible! Our Margaret just collapsed, and Jim – well, he – he wouldn’t believe it.”

“I still find it hard to believe,” murmured Darrell, with feeling.

Laura picked up a cup and began polishing it absently with the teacloth. “It was just as well our Matt was here. He was a tower of strength. Pulled his mother round, he did. I don’t know what she’d have done if that toffee-nosed wife of his had had her way and they’d left directly after the wedding. That was what she wanted to do, you know. And causing that scene after tea! Conceited, that’s what she is. Thinks herself too good for the likes of us!”

“Oh, please …” Darrell didn’t want to get involved in a discussion about Celine Lawford. “Er – Evelyn left this morning, then?”

“For Palma, yes. Matt would have gone himself, but our Margaret begged him to stay. The funeral’s likely to be on Thursday. Joint affair, so I believe. Susan and Frank. Susan and Frank!”

Tears appeared at the corners of her eyes and she dabbed them away. But it was difficult to remain immune from the awful tragedy of it all.

Darrell was making fresh sandwiches in an effort to tempt the men to eat something at least when the kitchen door opened and Celine came in. Up until then, Darrell had assumed she must have got her way and been installed in some hotel, but it was obvious from the petulance of her expression that this was not so.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she came and perched on the corner of the table, watching Darrell working with a jaundiced eye. “You must like being here,” she commented, grimacing. “Imagine coming back at a time like this.”

There was no evidence of grief in Celine’s bored expression and Darrell wondered that anyone could remain unmoved by what had occurred. Particularly when that someone was so close to the family. But then Celine would probably tell her that she was not close to the family. She probably hadn’t met Susan above a dozen times. They were virtually strangers to her. All the same, even a stranger might find it difficult not to respond to the pathos of it all.

“I hope someone’s hungry.” Darrell avoided any open confrontation. “I wonder if everyone likes cheese with chutney.”

“I suppose, being a nurse, you’re used to situations like this,” remarked Celine, bringing a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her well cut slacks. Although she was small, she was very slender, and the masculine attire accentuated her femininity.

Darrell nodded now. This at least was safer ground. “Yes. Although one never quite learns to accept it.”

Celine lit her cigarette. “Oh, come on,” she exclaimed. “You don’t mean to tell me you feel for every passing corpse that comes your way!”

Darrell didn’t care for her turn of phrase. “Death is always unexpected,” she replied carefully. “I can never quite get over the feeling of loss when two people are in a room together and suddenly one of them –” She broke off. “I’m sorry. That was morbid of me.” She quartered the pile of sandwiches and began arranging them on a plate. “When – when are you leaving? After – the funeral?”

Celine exhaled smoke through her nostrils, looking irritable. “God alone knows, I don’t! Matthew should have left today at the latest. He has a board meeting tomorrow afternoon, and he leaves for New York on Wednesday.”

Darrell turned to rinse her fingers at the sink. “I – I believe the funeral’s not until Thursday,” she murmured.

“I know that. But Matthew’s a busy man, his work is important. He can’t just neglect everything because there’s been a plane crash …”

“It is a family bereavement,” Darrell pointed out quietly.

“Do you think I’m not aware of that, too? My God, it’s been thrust down my throat ever since I came here. Family this – family that. It’s sickening! What has Matthew in common with his family now? He doesn’t live like they do, he doesn’t think like they do, he doesn’t act like they do. His world is not their world. All right, so Susan’s dead, and that’s a pity. But you could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her in the last five years!”

“Nevertheless, she was his sister, and his mother needs his support –”

“His mother needs his support! What about me? Don’t I need his support, too? My God, what has his mother ever done for him? What has his blessed family ever done for him?”

Darrell dried her hands and found a tray for the sandwiches. “If you’ll excuse me …” she murmured uncomfortably.

Celine slid off the table and paced restlessly about the kitchen. “Oh, yes, go on, go and play nursemaid to all of them. I’m superfluous here. I’m not even allowed a lousy drink to drown my sorrows, do you know that?” She snorted angrily. “Tea – that’s all they can think about. The universal panacea. Well, not for me!”

Darrell determinedly exceed herself and left the kitchen. She knocked at the dining room door and went in. The younger Lawford brothers were playing cards at the table, while Matthew and the next oldest brother Martin were standing together, talking in low tones. Martin was married, too, but his wife, Alison, came from Sedgeley, and as she was eight months pregnant at this time was spending the day with her own parents. They all looked up at Darrell’s entrance, and Jeff made an effort to act naturally.

“That was a kind idea, Darrell,” he said, getting up and taking the tray from her. “What have we here? Cheese? Ham?”

“It’s a mixture. Some are cheese and chutney, some are ham. It was all I could find, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m starving,” announced David Lawford, getting up as well and taking one of the sandwiches. He was eighteen and the youngest of the brothers. “Is there any beer? I could do with a drink as well.”

“I know where there’s some lager,” said Jeff, putting the tray on the table.

“I’ll make tea, if you’d rather,” ventured Darrell, but David shook his head.

“I think we’ve had enough tea today,” he replied, with a faint smile. “What about you? Are you going to join us?”

“Oh, no.” Darrell backed towards the door, conscious of Matthew’s eyes upon her. “No, I’ve got plenty to do. I’ll tell your mother you’re having something to eat in here.”

“When you want to leave, let me know.” Matthew spoke for the first time, and Darrell could feel the colour running up her cheeks.

“I can take Darrell home,” interjected Jeff, looking impatiently at his brother.

“I brought her here, so naturally I’ll take her home,” retorted Matthew coolly, and Jeff reached for a sandwich with ill grace.

“I suppose your car is more comfortable than my mini,” he muttered, with his mouth full, and Darrell shifted uncomfortably.

“I can always take the bus – or get a taxi,” she murmured. “Er – if you’ll excuse me …”

To her relief, Celine had gone when she got back to the kitchen, but Mrs. Lawford was there.

“Oh, there you are, Darrell,” she exclaimed. “I was looking for you. Dr. Morrison’s here, and I think he’d like to see you.”

“Dr. Morrison? Would like to see me?” Darrell was confused.

“Yes. He – he came to offer his condolences.” Mrs. Lawford sniffed, and then controlled herself. “Come along, child. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Adrian Morrison was standing in the hall, talking to Mrs. Lawford’s sister, but he looked up with some relief himself when Darrell appeared. Mrs. Lawford beckoned her sister away, and the doctor turned to her understandingly.

“We’ve just had the news,” he said, “and I wanted you to know that if you’d like a few days off, I’m sure it can be arranged.”

“But Doctor Morrison –”

“Look, Darrell, this must have been a terrible shock to you. You may not wholly realise yet exactly how shocked you are. You know as well as I do the effects of delayed reaction. And Mrs. Lawford tells me you’re being a great help to her –”

“I’m only washing a few dishes –”

“Nevertheless, someone has to do it, and she’s glad of your company.”

“What? With all these people …”

“Sometimes friends are of more comfort than relatives, Darrell. You know that. Besides, you and Susan were very close. It’s natural that her mother should see you as a kind of link …” He paused. “Anyway, I’m told that the funeral is to be on Thursday. I suggest you take the next week off, and come back to work a week tomorrow. I’ll speak to Matron.”

“But I couldn’t!”

“Why not?”

“Well, with Susan – I mean – you’re short-staffed, as it is.”

“We’ll manage. We’re not such a small establishment that we can’t compensate for one indispensable staff nurse!”

Darrell wrapped her arms closely about herself. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. But don’t worry, we can cope. And if we should run into difficulties, I can always send out an S.O.S., can’t I?”

Darrell managed a smile. “Thank you.”

After he had gone, Mrs. Lawford came to find her. “Well?” she urged. “What did he say?”

Darrell sighed. “He’s given me the week off.”

“Oh, I am glad.” Mrs. Lawford squeezed her shoulder warmly. “I told him you and Susan had been like sisters to one another. He was very understanding.”

Darrell opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it again. She and Susan had been close. Perhaps not as close as sisters, but then sisters were not always close to one another. And they had shared the flat for the past eight months. She would have missed her anyway, but this …

“You’ll stay here, of course,” went on Mrs. Lawford, but at this Darrell shook her head.

“No. No, I’ll stay at the flat. I’d rather. Besides, it’s no use me getting used to having a lot of company. It would make it all the worse when – when I had to go back.”

Mrs. Lawford studied her pale face for several seconds, and then she nodded. “All right, Darrell, I can appreciate that. Now – how about a nice cup of tea?”

Evelyn telephoned from Palma soon after ten, and Mr. Lawford roused himself to come downstairs and listen to the call. Formalities there were taking longer than expected, and Evelyn did not expect to return home until Tuesday at the earliest. Fortunately, the bodies were recognisable, the plane having ploughed into a hillside and killed most people on impact. This made things easier for the authorities, and less harrowing for the relatives, but it was still a gruelling experience and Evelyn could not hide her emotion when she heard her father’s voice. There seemed little doubt, she said, that the crash had been the result of an error on the part of the pilot, coming in too low over the mountains and then failing to gain altitude again when it became apparent that he was descending too fast. There were a number of theories, of course, but this seemed to be the most consistent one.

By the time the call was over, they were all feeling the strain of a renewed awareness of the tragedy that had occurred. For a while its sharpness had been blunted, but now it was as acute as ever. It would take many more than twenty-four hours for them all to accept the finality of it all.

It was after eleven when Darrell washed up the last few dishes, and went to find her jacket. It was hung over the banister in the hall and she was putting it on when Matthew came out of the lounge.

“Are you ready to leave?” he enquired politely.

Darrell heaved a sigh. “Yes. But you don’t have to take me. I mean – I can easily call a cab.”

“Why? My car’s outside. I said I would take you home.”

“I know you did.” Darrell’s fingers tightened round her handbag. “But—”

“Would you rather Jeff took you home?” he asked, that direct stare devastating her.

“I don’t want to trouble anybody.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m quite prepared to take you.”

Mrs. Lawford appeared behind her son. “Leaving now, Darrell, are you? That’s right. You go and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll see you tomorrow. And thank you for all you’ve done.”

Darrell moved awkwardly. “I’ve done nothing,” she protested.

Mrs. Lawford managed a smile. “Don’t you believe it.” She turned to her eldest son. “You’re taking Darrell home, aren’t you, Matt? Drive carefully, won’t you? We don’t want …” She allowed the remainder of the sentence to go unsaid, but her meaning was obvious.

Matthew’s eyes challenged Darrell to contradict his mother, and with a sigh she went to the door of the lounge and called goodnight to the others. Celine was there, sitting moodily on the arm of a chair, staring at the television which was playing away entirely for her benefit. Everyone else was talking. Darrell half hoped she would look up and offer to go with them, but apart from an irritated glance in Darrell’s direction, she made no move. The inevitable cigarette was dangling from her fingers, and she smoked it with swift nervous gestures.

Outside the big B.M.W. looked incongruous in the narrow street. Jeff’s Mini was parked behind it, and Matthew viewed his brother’s vehicle with vague impatience.

“I can get Jeff’s keys if you’ve rather go in the Mini,” he suggested dryly, and Darrell stood by the door of the B.M.W., waiting for him to open it, feeling decidedly put out.

The drive across town was accomplished as silently as they had come, and it seemed no time at all before they were drawing up outside the apartment building. Only then did Darrell feel a sense of contrition at her childish behaviour

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at him reluctantly.

“No sweat.” He shrugged indifferently. Then, as she was about to get out, he added quietly: “You must tell me if I’m interrupting some scene you and Jeff have got going for you. I got the impression, perhaps mistakenly, from Susan, that you were not interested.”

“I’m not – that is –” Darrell broke off awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I was – ungrateful. I’m not, truly. It’s just – well, I’m tired, I suppose, and not very tactful.”

He half turned in his seat towards her, his face shadowed in the light from the street lamps. “Why should you need to be tactful?” he asked softly. “That’s a curious expression to use.”

Darrell sighed. “It was a figure of speech, that’s all. I – oh, goodnight, Mr. Lawford. And thank you again.”

With trembling fingers, she thrust open the door and climbed out, slamming it behind her. Then she ran up the steps into the building, stopping with a thumping heart when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm, “I’ll see you into the flat. I don’t like the idea of you coming home alone at this time of night.”

Darrell had no choice but to agree, although his fingers at her elbow sent little electric currents down her veins into her hand. He released her at her door and she sought the key in the bottom of her bag, inserting it in the lock with unsteady fingers. Once the door was open and the lamps switched on, she turned back to him with feigned nonchalance.

“You see – no intruders!” she remarked lightly.

“Why are you afraid of me, Darrell?” he asked unexpectedly, one hand supporting himself against the open door.

“Af-afraid of you?” Darrell faltered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Matthew studied her suddenly heated cheeks with resignation. “Yes, you do,” he returned flatly. “You’re as nervous as a wild cat when I’m around. Why? What do you expect me to do to you? What has Susan told you about me that’s given me such a bad reputation?”

Darrell gasped. “I – you’re imagining things, Mr. Lawford.”

“Am I?” Matthew folded his arms. “I wonder.” He smiled, but it was a rather twisted sort of smile. “Did she tell you that I live some kind of amoral life? That I mix with people whose whole object in life is the pursuit of pleasure? Well, maybe she was right. The codes I live by might not go down too well in a place like Sedgeley. But I am not without conscience, Miss Anderson, and contrary to belief, I’ve never been unfaithful to my wife!”

Darrell didn’t know where to look or what to say. She felt totally and completely demoralised, the more so because she had judged him without scruples.

“So …” Matthew turned to go out the door, “I’ll say goodnight. My mother told me you’ve been given the week off, so no doubt we’ll see one another again. Goodbye.”

The door closed behind him and Darrell stood staring at it feeling sick and distraught. And this time, it had nothing to do with Susan and Frank.

CHAPTER THREE

Although she was physically exhausted, Darrell found it impossible to sleep. Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, she got up and took several aspirins, and she must have fallen into a drugged slumber because when she opened her eyes again it was after ten o’clock.

Her head ached as she made herself some coffee and forced a slice of toast down her throat. Depression was gripping her, and she delayed going round to the Lawfords’ until the last possible moment. She chided herself for being a coward, for selfishly thinking of her own feelings at a time like this, and then when she got there she found that Matthew and his wife had left for London that morning and were not expected back until Wednesday afternoon. This should have aroused some relief, but curiously enough it didn’t.

The house seemed strangely quiet. Mr. Lawford was still in bed, and the three sons still living at home had gone out. Jennifer, Penny and their mother were in the kitchen, and were obviously glad of an excuse to make another cup of tea.

Inevitably, the conversation came round to Matthew, and Penny said resentfully: “I never thought he’d go. I never thought he’d let her persuade him!”

“Now, Penny,” said her mother, with a calming gesture, “Matt can’t just stay at home from his job like you can. People depend on him for their livelihood. Why, Celine said he was supposed to be going to America on Wednesday!”

“All he’s interested in is making money, money and more money,” muttered Jenny, hunching her shoulders. “And what’s it all for, that’s what I’d like to know. You won’t benefit from it.”

Mrs. Lawford sighed. “Penny, you know your dad and I don’t want Matt’s money. We’re quite happy as we are. We’ve got everything we need. This house has been good enough for us this far, and no doubt it’ll still be here after we’ve gone.”

“Well, I think you deserve a better house,” retorted Jenny moodily. “He can afford it.”

“Penny, Matt’s paid for Patrick to go through university, and he’s going to do the same for David if he gets the results. And he bought us that beautiful colour television –”

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