Getting to her feet, she ran into the passage to the sister’s office.

‘Jonah, he’s breathing so quietly now,’ she stammered. ‘He looks so peaceful, as though he was d- dying.’

The black nurse got up and took Harriet’s arm. ‘I’ll come and see.’ She felt his pulse, and took his temperature. She turned to Harriet, a great white toothy smile splitting her face.

‘I think he’s over the crisis,’ she said. ‘He’s breathing quite normally and his pulse rate’s coming down.’

Harriet turned away, her shoulders shaking.

‘There, there,’ said the nurse. ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea, then you can get some sleep.’

Harriet didn’t trust doctors and nurses; she knew they lied. For all she knew Jonah was still in danger. She sat by his bed until breakfast time, as plastic bag after plastic bag dripped into his arm, listening to the heavy breathing getting slower and more even, the restless movements growing quieter.

Sister Maddox came on at eight, looking as ice-cool and elegant as ever.

‘Good morning. How’s the patient?’ she said briskly. ‘I expect you had a nice sleep with that mogadon. I envy you. I didn’t get to bed till four o’clock.’

She picked up Jonah’s chart. His temperature and pulse ratings were right down.

‘Well, that is better,’ she said. ‘I hope you appreciate Dr Williams a bit more now.’

‘Jonah hasn’t come round yet,’ said Harriet sulkily. She knew she was being ungracious.

‘He’s getting a much-needed rest,’ said Sister Maddox. ‘I wouldn’t fuss him any more if I were you. I’d go and have some breakfast.’

Instead Harriet tried to concentrate on an old copy of Reader’s Digest. It pays to improve your ward power, she said to herself. She felt absolutely all in. She hardly recognized her grey face in the mirror. She wished she could wash her hair and have a bath before Cory came, but she was too scared to leave Jonah until she knew he was out of danger.

The specialist arrived at eleven and didn’t appear altogether happy. ‘He’s not out of the woods yet,’ he said. ‘Let me know when he regains consciousness.’

Back came the panic, the terrifying fears. Oh don’t let him die, prayed Harriet.

Quarter of an hour later came Dr Williams, even more unreceptive than usual, as Harriet bombarded him with questions about Jonah’s condition.

‘But he is going to get better, isn’t he?’ she said in desperation.

‘Really, Miss Poole,’ said Sister Maddox, ‘Dr Williams has got a hundred and one other people to look after.’

‘I’m sorry,’ insisted Harriet, ‘but Jonah’s father’s due after lunch and he’ll want to know exactly what the score is.’

‘Oh, he rang ten minutes ago,’ said Sister Maddox.

Harriet went white. ‘What did he say? Why didn’t you let me speak to him?’

‘You were in the loo or making a cup of coffee,’ said Sister Maddox. ‘I didn’t think it was that important.’

‘But you could have got me. You must have known I’d want to talk to him.’

‘And you must realize that Sister Maddox has better things to do than acting as a switchboard for all the patients’ relations. You must realize Jonah isn’t the only child in the hospital,’ snapped Dr Williams.

‘But he’s the only child here belonging to me,’ shouted Harriet.

‘Have I come to the right place,’ said a deep throbbing voice. They all turned round. There in the doorway making the perfect stage entrance smothered in a huge black fur hat stood Noel Balfour.

‘Oh yes, I have,’ she said seeing Jonah, and walked quickly towards the bed.

‘Oh my precious, precious darling,’ she said with a break in her voice.

And suddenly exactly on cue, Jonah stirred, sighed and opened his eyes, for a moment he looked at Noel incredulously.

‘Mummy,’ he croaked weakly.

Harriet felt once more the explosion of jealousy as Jonah’s pale face lit up.

‘Mummy, is it really you?’

‘Yes, it is, my darling. What a dreadful, dreadful time you’ve had.’ She brushed the dank blond hair back from his forehead.

‘My arm’s sore,’ muttered Jonah.

‘I know, darling,’ said Noel, ‘it’s that horrid drip, but it’s making you so much better every minute, so I know you’ll be brave about it. Because these kind nurses and doctors have been working so hard to make you well.’

‘I feel better,’ said Jonah, ‘but my head’s still sore,’ and, sighing, he drifted back to sleep. Noel bent and kissed him on the forehead, aware that she made a most touching sight. Hardly a dry eye in the room, thought Harriet. Everyone was gaping in admiration.

Noel stood up and looked round. Pulling off her fur hat and running a careless hand through her blonde hair, so that it fell perfectly into shape, she smiled with dazzling wistfulness at the nurses, then turned her headlamp stare on Dr Williams who was blushing like a schoolgirl.

She held out a hand. ‘My name’s Noel Balfour,’ she said, as if everyone didn’t know it.

‘We didn’t know you were his mother,’ said Sister Maddox, looking rather shaken.

‘I don’t expect Harriet thought it important,’ said Noel. ‘Not when Jonah’s life was at stake. How is my son, Doctor?’

‘Well it’s been touch and go, but it looks as though he’ll pull through now.’

‘How long has he been here?’

‘Four days now.’

Four days! Why wasn’t I told before?’ Noel collapsed on a chair, and got out a cigarette with a trembling hand, letting her fur coat fall open to display her magnificent bosom.

Dr Williams leapt forward with a lighter.

‘We tried to find you,’ protested Harriet. ‘They said you were in Paris, but they didn’t know where.’

‘It was the studio trying to protect me,’ said Noel. ‘I escaped to Paris to learn a part. And you’ve been all by yourself, poor Harriet. What you must have been through! I’m sure she’s been wonderful.’

Dr Williams gave a chilly smile. ‘Miss Poole takes her responsibility as a nanny very seriously.’

Noel, instantly detecting tension, looked from one to the other.

‘Where’s Cory?’ she asked Harriet.

‘He’s on his way back from the States,’ said Harriet.

‘He rang to say he’d be here this afternoon,’ added Sister Maddox.

‘Oh thank God,’ said Noel, ‘thank God we can give him good news. Let me sit with him for a bit, Harriet,’ she went on. ‘Go and have a cup of tea and get some rest. You look so tired.’

Dropping with fatigue, black-ringed beneath the eyes, greasy-haired, and wearing the wrong length skirt, Harriet was only too well aware of the contrast she must make to Noel.

As she went listlessly down to the canteen she knew she’d been outmanoeuvred. No doubt at this moment Dr Williams was telling Noel how stroppy she’d been with the nurses, and what a bad influence she was on Jonah. And this afternoon Cory would be back, and the first thing he’d find was Noel looking stunning by the bedside. Suddenly she felt twitchy and threatened.

Chapter Twenty-two

Noel, like all charming people, was totally dependent on the approval and admiration of others. When she sensed disapproval, she merely moved on to fresh conquests. She only liked to live in the sunshine. Her effect on the hospital was dramatic. Suddenly every doctor and nurse in the building seemed to find an excuse to pop in and check Jonah’s condition. The passage outside was like Paddington Station.

‘The poor little lad took a turn for the better the moment his mother arrived,’ Harriet heard one nurse saying

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