whimpering voice, «I've just eaten all my sleeping pills.»
«What! Priscilla! No!»
«I've eaten them.» She was holding an empty bottle in her hand.
«You're not serious! How many?»
I picked it up. The label meant nothing to me. I made a sort of dart at Priscilla, trying stupidly to pull the bedclothes up over her, but one of her legs was on top of them. I ran out of the room.
In the hall I ran to and fro, starting off back to the bedroom, then running towards the flat door, then back to the telephone. As I reached the telephone it began to ring, and I picked it up.
There were the rapid pips of the «pay tone,» and then a click-Arnold's voice said, «Bradley, Rachel and I are just in town for lunch, we're just round the corner and we wondered if we could persuade you to join us. Darling, would you like to talk to Bradley?»
Rachel's voice said, «Bradley, my dear, we both felt-I said, «Priscilla's just eaten all her sleeping pills.»
«What? Who?»
«Priscilla. My sister, just taken bottle sleeping pills-I-get hospital-«
«What's that, Bradley? I can't hear. Bradley, don't ring off, we-«Priscilla's taken her sleeping-Sorry, I must ring-get doctor-sorry, sorry-I jammed the phone down, then lifted it again and could still hear Rachel's voice saying, «anything we can do-« I banged it back, ran to the bedroom door, ran back again, lifted the phone, put it down, began to pull the telephone books out of the shelves where they live inside a converted mahogany commode. The telephone books slewed all over the floor. The front doorbell rang.
I ran to the door and opened it. It was Francis Marloe.
I said, «Thank God you've come, my sister has just eaten a bottle full of sleeping pills.»
«Where's the bottle?» said Francis. «How many were in it?»
«God, how do I know-The bottle-God, I had it in my hand a moment ago-Christ, where is it?»
«When did she take them?»
«Just now.»
«Have you telephoned a hospital?»
«No, I-«
«Where is she?»
«Oh Christ, where is the bloody bottle-I had it in my hand-The doorbell rang again. I opened it. Arnold, Rachel and Julian were standing outside the door. They were neat and smartly dressed, Julian in a sort of flowered smock looking about twelve. They appeared like a family advertising corn flakes or insurance, except that Rachel had a bruise under one eye.
«Bradley, can we-«Help me find the bottle, I had the bottle she took, I put it down somewhere-A cry came out of the bedroom. Francis called, «Brad, could-Rachel said, «Let me.» She went into the bedroom.
«I must telephone the hospital,» I said.
«What's this about a bottle?» said Arnold.
