MacQuillan to add, “No, no, just been overworking I think.”
“We have to decide what to tell Col. Beasdale,” said Saithe. “There is no doubt that the situation has worsened.”
No one thought to disagree.
“With the volunteer force as it stands our capacity to cope stands at one hundred and ten patients between the County Hospital and ourselves. It seems certain that we will reach this figure within three days.” said Saithe.
“There is the turn-over factor of course,” said Saracen.
Jenkins started to ask what Saracen meant when Saithe interrupted him. “What Dr Saracen means is that nearly all of the patients admitted will be dead within three days. This helps keep the numbers down.”
“Are the dead going to be a problem?” asked Olive Riley, the senior nursing officer.
“If they are Matron it’s not ours,” said Saithe. “If the crematorium can’t cope I dare say Col. Beasdale has contingency plans.” Saithe repeated that they would have to agree on what to report to Col. Beasdale.
“Tell him that the situation is worse but not yet out of control,” said MacQuillan.
“Is everyone agreed on that?” asked Saithe. There were no dissenting voices.
“If only I knew where these damned wild cards are coming from,” muttered MacQuillan as he entered the latest details on his chart. He shook his head and Saracen noticed that his hands were trembling slightly as he wrote.
Saithe made his report to Beasdale and was asked for a prediction. “Impossible to say,” replied Saithe. “Things may get even worse before they get better.”
“How long before they start to get better?”
“I can’t say.”
“How is everything else Colonel?” asked MacQuillan to get Saithe off the hook, thought Saracen.
“There was a sudden increase in the number of people trying to leave Skelmore yesterday after the quarantine announcement. My men turned them back of course but things got a bit nasty for a time. We lost a lot of good will but I’m afraid that was unavoidable; people are getting scared. It’s a small town and word gets around fast. Tales of horrific deaths and mass funerals are now commonplace.”
“Perhaps the radio can be used to reassure them,” suggested the hospital secretary.
“Too much reassurance can be a bad thing,” said Beasdale. “Apart from the fact that the rumours are basically true an element of fear in the population works in our favour. Under these conditions people will police themselves. I don’t want to have to ban people from the streets; it’s impractical and we probably couldn’t enforce it anyway. Voluntary co-operation is our best hope and that’s where fear plays a part. But it’s a delicate balance, too little and we’ll have open defiance, too much and we’ll have blind panic.”
“The whole bloody town is doing a balancing act,” said MacQuillan gruffly.
“Let’s hope it maintains it,” said Beasdale.
Saithe’s theoretical limit of one hundred and ten patients was passed by seven o’clock that same evening. The volunteer ambulance crews finally broke under the strain of so many calls and Saithe had to request the assistance of the army shortly after eight. Saracen’s heart sank as he saw the first military vehicle enter the grounds of the General carrying plague victims, four people all from the same street on the Maxton estate.
The soldiers, like alien beings in their white plastic suits and face masks deposited their cargo and left without removing their masks to speak. Saracen watched them as they drove off, feeling like a castaway watching a ship pass by on the horizon. He gave an involuntary shiver and turned to his patients.
Tremaine was due to relieve Saracen at nine in plague reception. At a quarter to Saracen called Ward Twenty and asked to speak to Jill. Once more it was Sister Lindeman who answered but this time Jill was there; she sounded tired.
“How is everything?” asked Saracen.
“The ward’s full to overflowing but I suppose you know that already. Seventeen deaths since I came on duty and nothing we can do except make people as comfortable as possible while they wait their turn. God, it’s like living in a sea of blood and vomit.”
“Things will get better soon,” said Saracen softly. “The antiserum should be here at any time.”
“I hope so. I don’t think I can bear much…” Jill’s voice broke off and Saracen tried to comfort her but he had a lump in his throat. He asked about Lindeman.
“She’s an angel,” replied Jill. “She never seems to rest. She’s always with the patients, ‘insists that no one must die alone. Even if a patient is hopelessly delirious one of us must be there to hold their hand and it’s usually her. I don’t know how she doesn’t drop.”
“Try to persuade her to take more rest,” said Saracen.
“I have tried. It’s no use.”
“Take care.”
“You too.”
Tremaine took over in plague reception and said that he had called in on A amp;E on his way over.
“How was it?” asked Saracen.
“Quiet,” replied Tremaine. “Less people on the streets means fewer fights, fewer accidents. Apart from that people don’t want to come anywhere near the hospital these days.” Tremaine asked Saracen what the plague situation was like and listened in silence while Saracen briefed him. At the end he remained subdued and said quietly, “Do you know, until this moment I hadn’t considered the possibility that we might lose this fight. What would happen if things were to get out of control?”
Saracen had to confess to having had the same mental block. “I don’t know,” he said. “I simply have no idea.”
Tremaine relayed a message to Saracen from his sister. She suggested that he go round for dinner when he came off duty. It would save him having to cook for himself. Saracen nodded and went off to shower before leaving the hospital.
“You look tired,” said Claire when they had finished eating.
“We’re all tired,” said Saracen.
Claire played with her tea spoon and said, “I know you don’t think much of me James, that I’m a silly London bitch and all that, but I would like to help in any way I can.”
Saracen shook his head and said, “I don’t think badly of you. Half the time I don’t know what to think at all. I can make decisions at work but when it comes to my personal life I’m a mess.”
“Did your wife hurt you that badly?”
Saracen grimaced and said, “That sounded like a bad line from a play.”
“You analyse everything too much,” said Claire. “Every phrase, every word is scrutinised for ulterior motive. You should relax more. Take things as they come.”
Saracen looked doubtful but did not protest when Claire moved round behind him and began kneading her fingers into his shoulders. “You make it sound simple,” he said.
“It is if you would let it be.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“That’s why you don’t have any fun,’ laughed Claire.
Saracen had to concede there was some truth in what Claire was saying. It made him feel uncomfortable. “I’m too old for fun,” he said.
“Nonsense! I think I know what the matter with you is,” said Claire. “On the one hand you are afraid of falling in love in case you get hurt again like you did with what’s her name. On the other you’re afraid that you might not be able to fall in love again because of that same fear. That makes you very vulnerable James. You could end up marrying someone you don’t love and that would be like standing on the shore watching yourself drown.”
“If you say so,” said Saracen quietly.
“Now let’s get this clear,” said Claire. “You sure as hell do not love me but you want me as much as I want you so where’s the harm? Let’s make life a little more bearable in this hell hole.” Saracen still looked doubtful. Claire
