Miss Runcible lay in a high, narrow bed in a darkened room.
A nurse was crocheting at her side when Adam entered. She rose, dropping a few odds and ends from her lap, and said, “There’s someone come to see you, dear. Now remember you aren’t to talk much,” She took the flowers from Adam’s hand, said, “Look, what lovelies. Aren’t you a lucky girl?” and left the room with them. She returned a moment later carrying them in a jug of water. “There, the thirsties,” she said. “Don’t they love to get back to the nice cool water?”
Then she went out again.
“Darling,” said a faint voice from the bed, “I can’t really see who it is. Would it be awful to draw the curtains?”
Adam crossed the room and let in the light of the grey December afternoon.
“My dear, how blind-making. There are some cocktail things in the wardrobe. Do make a big one. The nurses love them so. It’s such a nice nursing home this, Adam, only all the nurses are starved, and there’s a breathtaking young man next door who keeps putting his head in and asking how I am. He fell out of an aeroplane, which is rather grand, don’t you think?”
“How are you feeling, Agatha?”
“Well, rather odd, to tell you the truth. … How’s Nina?”
“She’s got engaged to be married—haven’t you heard?”
“My dear, the nurses are interested in no one but Princess Elizabeth. Do tell me.”
“A young man called Ginger.”
“Well?”
“Don’t you remember him? He came on with us after the airship party.”
“Not the one who was sick?”
“No, the other.”
“I don’t remember … does Nina call him Ginger?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He asked her to.”
“Well?”
“She used to play with him when they were children. So she’s going to marry him.”
“My dear, isn’t that rather sad-making for you?”
“I’m desperate about it. I’m thinking of committing suicide, like Simon.”
“Don’t do that, darling … did Simon commit suicide?”
“My dear, you know he did. The night all those libel actions started.”
“Oh, that Simon. I thought you meant Simon.”
“Who’s Simon?”
“The young man who fell out of the aeroplane. The nurses call him Simple Simon because it’s affected his brains … but, Adam I am sorry about Nina. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. As soon as I’m well again we’ll make Mary Mouse give a lovely party to cheer you up.”
“Haven’t you heard about Mary?”
“No, what?”
“She went off to Monte Carlo with the Maharajah of Pukkapore.”
“My dear, aren’t the Mice furious?”
“She’s just receiving religious instruction before her official reception as a royal concubine. Then they’re going to India.”
“How people are disappearing, Adam. Did you get that money from the drunk Major?”
“No, he disappeared too.”
“D’you know, all that time when I was dotty I had the most awful dreams. I thought we were all driving round and round in a motor race and none of us could stop, and there was an enormous audience composed entirely of gossip writers and gatecrashers and Archie Schwert and people like that, all shouting to us at once to go faster, and car after car kept crashing until I was left all alone driving and driving—and then I used to crash and wake up.”
Then the door opened, and Miles came popping in.
“Agatha, Adam, my dears. The time I’ve had trying to get in. I can’t tell you how bogus they were downstairs. First I said I was Lord Chasm, and that wasn’t any good; and I said I was one of the doctors, and that wasn’t any good; and I said I was your young man, and that wasn’t any good; and I said I was a gossip writer, and they let me up at once and said I wasn’t to excite you, but would I put a piece in my paper about their nursing home. How are you, Aggie darling? I brought up some new records.”
“You are angelic. Do let’s try them. There’s a gramophone under the bed.”
“There’s a whole lot more people coming to see you today. I saw them all at luncheon at Margot’s. Johnny Hoop and Van and Archie Schwert. I wonder if they’ll all manage to get in.”
They got in.
So soon there was quite a party, and Simon appeared from next door in a very gay dressing-gown, and they played the new records and Miss Runcible moved her bandaged limbs under the bedclothes in negro rhythm.
Last of all, Nina came in looking quite lovely and very ill.
“Nina, I hear you’re engaged.”
“Yes, it’s very lucky. My papa has just put all his money into a cinema film and lost it all.”
“My dear, it doesn’t matter at all. My papa lost all his twice. It doesn’t make a bit of difference. That’s just one of the things one has to learn about losing all one’s money. … Is it true that you really call him Ginger?”
“Well, yes, only, Agatha, please don’t be unkind about it.”
And the gramophone was playing the song which the black man sang at the Café de la Paix.
Then the nurse came in.
“Well, you are noisy ones, and no mistake,” she said. “I don’t know what the matron would say if she were here.”
“Have a chocolate, sister?”
“Ooh, chocs!”
Adam made another cocktail.
Miles sat on Miss Runcible’s bed and took up the telephone and began dictating some paragraphs about the nursing home.
“What it is to have a friend in the Press,” said the nurse.
Adam brought her a cocktail. “Shall I?” she said. “I hope you haven’t made it too strong. Suppose it goes to my head? What would the patients think if their sister came in tiddly. Well, if you’re sure it won’t hurt me, thanks.”
“ … Yesterday I visited the Hon. Agatha Runcible comma Lord Chasm’s lovely daughter comma at the Wimpole Street nursing home where she is recovering from the effects of the motor accident recently described in this column stop Miss
