‘Is that Bill?’
‘Margot? Is something wrong?’
‘Why does there have to be something wrong? Can’t a wife telephone her husband to see how he is after years of being apart?’
‘It’s only been a couple of months, Margot, don’t exaggerate.’
‘It feels like years.’ Bill laughed. There was silence for some seconds. Then Margot said, ‘I miss you, Bill. Please come home?’
‘I am home, Margot.’
Margot held the telephone away from her ear. She scrunched up her face, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth wide. She wanted to scream. Instead she whispered, ‘Of course you are.’
‘I miss you too, Margot, but--’
‘But what?’ Margot hissed. ‘Sorry! I’m sorry,’ she said again, ‘but I hate it here. I’m frightened. There are strange people everywhere.’
‘There aren’t any strange people in the Mews, Margot. Well, no more than there were when you insisted we moved there.’
‘I’m not in the Mews, Bill.’
‘Not in-- Where are you, the Albert?’
‘No.’
‘Then where?’
‘I don’t know. Please come and get me, Bill. The bed’s ever so hard and I can’t switch the light off. It’s so bright it hurts my eyes. And they’re trying to poison me. Shush! Someone’s coming,’ Margot said. ‘I shouldn’t be in here. I’ll be punished if they catch me. Bill, I’m frightened.’
As he entered the consulting room, Dr Thurlingham held out his hand for the telephone.
‘Margot, what the hell’s going on? Margot! Are you there?’
‘Goodbye, Bill,’ she said, and she handed the telephone to the doctor.
‘Mr Burrell? This is Dr Thurlingham. We’ve been trying to get hold of you.’ Margot moved to the far side of the room and stood in the corner. ‘No, your wife hasn’t been in an accident. She has had a breakdown and has been admitted to the Thurlingham Clinic with severe nervous exhaustion. There’s nothing to be alarmed about, she-- Yes, Harley Street, but there’s no need for you to--’ The doctor held the telephone away from his ear, and then put it down.
After talking to Margot’s doctor, Bill understood more about her condition and was given permission to see her. Rustling behind him in a stiff white uniform, the nurse given the task of accompanying Bill to see Margot could hardly keep up with him. As soon as they reached Margot’s room she left, muttering something about visitors turning up out of hours.
Bill tapped the door before entering. Margot, crouched in the corner of the room, looked up. She wiped her hand across her face and scraped her fingers through her hair. ‘Bill?’ she cried, stumbling to her feet. With tears in her eyes, she ran across the room and threw her arms around her husband’s neck. ‘Take me home, Bill,’ she pleaded, ‘take me home.’
Bill held her tightly and whispered, ‘Shush sweetheart. Shush…’
‘Please, Bill,’ she cried. ‘I miss you. I want to come home.’
‘I miss you too, darling. And I’ll take you home as soon as you’re better.’
Margot pushed him away and returned to the corner. Sliding down the wall, she hugged her knees and laid her head on them. Bill followed and put his hand on her shoulder, but Margot shrugged it off. ‘Leave me alone!’ Turning her face to the wall, she began to mumble.
‘Margot? Talk to me, love. Come on.’ Bill crossed the room to Margot’s bed and sat down. This isn’t so bad,’ he said, bouncing up and down a couple of times. ‘And look? Here’s your tea. Come and sit with me and have something to eat?’
‘You eat it!’ she spat, and resumed mumbling.
‘If you want to get better and come home, you’ve got to eat, Margot. And you’ve got to talk to the doctor. He can’t help you unless you do,’ Bill said.
Margot looked up. Her eyes roamed round the room. ‘Shush!’ She put her finger to her lips. ‘They’re listening,’ she whispered, beckoning Bill. Bill went over and knelt beside her. ‘They’re trying to kill me,’ she hissed. ‘Do-not-eat-the-jam!’ Bill looked around. There wasn’t any jam. Margot waved her hand in his face. ‘It’s in the food,’ she said, pointing to the plate of sandwiches. ‘Go on, have a look. Open one and smell it, but be careful… They say it’s salt and pepper, but everyone knows it’s poison.’
‘I can’t see any poison, Margot.’ Bill sniffed the food. ‘I can’t smell any either. I know,’ he said, ‘what if I taste it? Take a bite of the sandwich before you eat it. I’ll be your personal taster. Like the kings and queens had in the old days,’ he laughed.
Margot laughed with him. ‘Like in Laurence Olivier’s Henry V? Like that?’
‘Yes, love, like that. Come over here and sit by me, and we’ll eat the sandwiches together.’
Smiling for the first time since being admitted to the clinic, Margot rolled over until she was on all fours and pushed herself up. Walking slowly across the room to the bed, she sat down next to her husband. ‘Right!’ he said, picking up a quarter square of sandwich. ‘Let’s see.’ He took a bite. ‘Mm-hum, it tastes good. Everything is as it should be, your Majesty,’ he said, offering it to Margot.
She took a bite. ‘Not up to my usual standard, but it will suffice,’ she giggled.
Bill picked up another quarter, tasted it and nodded. After Margot had eaten the first small square of sandwich she ate the second. ‘I was hungry,’ she said when she’d eaten them all.
‘So will you eat your dinner tonight?’
Margot nodded. ‘That’s my girl,’ Bill said, putting his arms around her. ‘And will you talk to Dr
