and it saddened her.
After the day of the operation, when they’d made contact, she’d somehow believed that soon they would talk about the past, and how they had met again. Perhaps she would have a chance to tell him that she was sorry, and ask his forgiveness. But as the days until Hetta was discharged from hospital narrowed down to four, then three, she realised that it wasn’t going to happen.
And after all, she mused, why should it? Their paths had crossed by accident, and doubtless he would be glad to see the back of her. She probably embarrassed him.
But she would always be grateful to him. Theirs had been a sad, stormy relationship that had ended in anger, but now they’d been given a postscript that softened the bitterness.
She doubted that his bitterness had lasted very long. She knew he’d made a success of his life, just as he’d always vowed. She pictured him married to a brilliant society woman, someone whose sophistication could match his own. How glad he must be to have escaped herself.
As for her, why should she be bitter? It was she who had injured him, and if she’d paid for it with years of disappointment and disaster, perhaps that was only justice.
Elinor’s money was running dangerously low, and she started working again, accepting freelance beauty assignments that didn’t take her too far away. She had just completed a lucrative job and was feeling cheerful as she headed for the hospital in the early evening. This was Hetta’s last night, and tomorrow she would be coming home to the boarding house.
She found Hetta in high spirits, competing with the boy opposite to see who could put their tongue out furthest.
‘I should think they’ll be glad to see the back of you tomorrow,’ she said comically, sitting on Hetta’s bed.
Hetta nodded, accepting this as a compliment, and they laughed together.
‘Are you all ready to go?’
Hetta nodded vigorously. ‘Home!’ she carolled. ‘I’m going home.’
A sound made Elinor glance up quickly, smiling when she saw Daisy. But the smile faded at the look on her friend’s face. Daisy seemed distracted with worry, and she beckoned Elinor urgently into the corridor.
‘I’m sorry to land this on you, on top of everything else, luv.’
‘Daisy, whatever’s happened?’
‘That Mr Jenson in number six,’ Daisy said with loathing. ‘Stayed in bed this morning, with a cold, he said. But he took his smokes with him and fell asleep. We were all lucky to get out alive.’
‘You mean-?’
‘A terrible fire we had, soon after you left this morning. Top floor burned out. Everything black with smoke. And now the fire service say the building’s unsafe. They let us back for a few minutes to get our things, but that’s all. I brought your stuff.’
For the first time Elinor noticed her suitcases on the floor, and she began to feel sick as the full implications of this reached her. Daisy read her expression without trouble.
‘The insurance will cover it,’ she said, ‘but in the meantime nobody can live there. The two students have gone to a hostel, Mr Jenson has dumped himself on his sister and she’s welcome to him. I’ve found a little hotel nearby, where I can keep an eye on the rebuilding. But I don’t know what you’ll do.’
‘It’s all right,’ Elinor said, trying to sound calm. ‘We’ll find somewhere. You’ve been wonderful to us, Daisy. Now you’ve got to think of yourself.’
She maintained a cheerful front until she was alone, but then the shock of her situation came over her. In a few hours Hetta would be discharged, and she had nowhere to take her. Daisy’s place had been shabby, but it had also been clean and comfortable. There she could have tended Hetta in peace, with Daisy’s kindly help. Now she was alone in a cold desert.
She pulled herself together. Whatever happened Hetta must never suspect anything was wrong. She was smiling as she returned to her child, and sat with her, making their own silly little jokes until Hetta fell asleep.
As darkness fell the night shift began to appear. The nurse in charge swept her eyes over the patients, and frowned at the sight of Elinor, sitting in a chair, her suitcases hidden unconvincingly under the bed. Elinor’s nervousness grew. Nurse Stewart was a well-meaning woman, and not deliberately unkind. But her mind was rigid. To her there was only one ‘right’ way of doing things, and that was the way prescribed by the rules. She was also a busybody, happiest when imposing her views on others.
‘Mrs Landers,’ she said, ‘a moment, if you please.’
She swept on to her desk, and Elinor followed her reluctantly.
‘Visiting time is over, you know,’ Nurse Stewart said. ‘I really must ask you to leave.’
‘But I can’t,’ Elinor said desperately. ‘I’ve nowhere to go. The place I lived burned down today. I’ve only just heard.’
‘Is that why you have your suitcases with you?’
‘Yes. Someone rescued my things.’
‘I see. Well, that’s very unfortunate, of course,’ the nurse said in the tone she would have used to describe a shortfall of bandages, ‘but this is not a hotel. There are no provisions in the rules for overnight accommodation.’
‘But I was allowed to stay just after the operation.’
‘Ah, yes, when your little girl was in danger, and in the intensive care unit, but she’s on a general ward now, and the danger is long over. In fact, I believe she’s due to be discharged tomorrow.’
‘But where?’ Elinor said desperately. ‘I’ve nowhere to take her now.’
‘You’d better start looking for somewhere else first thing.’
Somewhere else meant a place that would demand a deposit, and the money she’d made recently wouldn’t run to that. Elinor’s despair must have shown in her eyes for the nurse, with a plain attempt to be helpful, said, ‘I’m sure the social services will help you. There are homes for children with special needs. I’ll find you the number.’
‘No,’ Elinor choked. ‘I don’t want anyone taking her over. I want her with me.’
‘But I’m sure you realise that Hetta’s best interests must come first.’
‘Her best interests mean a proper home with her mother.’
‘But you don’t have one, do you?’ Nurse Stewart said, smiling blandly.
To Elinor that smile was horrible. It was the face of the pitiless world that had done its best to crush her, and would keep trying until her strength was exhausted. She felt some frightening, uncontrollable feeling rising in her. If it reached the surface it would emerge as screams, she knew it.
Turning, she ran out of the ward, along the corridor and down the stairs until she reached the ground, then out into the hospital garden. Terror and panic were mounting in her as she ran and ran, until at last she collided with a tree and stayed just as she was, clutching the trunk and giving way to her grief.
She’d fought and fought, and given it everything she had. But it wasn’t enough, and suddenly she had no more strength to fight.
CHAPTER SIX
ELINOR had held onto her control through everything, refusing to let herself weep no matter how bad things had become. But now it all caught up with her like a wave that had been growing from a great distance until it crashed over her without mercy, leaving her shaking and helpless in the grip of sobs.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked a man’s voice behind her.
‘Go away,’ she cried passionately. ‘Yes, something’s wrong. Everything’s wrong and there’s nobody to help.
She heard a step, as though someone had moved closer, and Andrew said, ‘There
