them, had even suggested that perhaps Celine might like to go home with Evelyn when she took the younger children to bed, and stay the night there where it would be peaceful.
But Celine wanted none of this. The prospect of spending the night with any of Matthew’s relatives was clearly not a good idea so far as she was concerned, and she demanded that Matthew go and book her a suite of rooms in the best hotel in town.
And this was when the argument had become less tolerant. Matthew had stated flatly that he had no intention of booking rooms in any hotel when his own family were perfectly prepared to accommodate them, and when Celine started to criticise his family he told her bluntly that he would not bring the Lawford name into disrepute in the town by revealing his wife’s imperfections.
It had become a terrible slanging match, with Matthew controlling his temper admirably. Inevitably, Celine had burst into tears and Mrs. Lawford, with her innate kindness, had led her daughter-in-law away and calmed her with coffee and aspirins.
But Celine’s behaviour had put a damper on the party, and when Jeff suggested that he and Darrell and some of the others went on to the nightclub in the town, they had all been eager to agree. Consequently, Darrell had arrived home in the early hours of the morning feeling exhausted and distinctly depressed.
Sunday was not usually a busy day at the Sedgeley General and the morning dragged by until lunchtime when there was an emergency appendectomy in the theatre. Darrell had her lunch with Carol Withers, a fellow staff nurse, in the hospital canteen, and then returned to the surgical ward until the evening. Visitors were allowed for two hours during the afternoon, and as there were no further emergencies, Darrell was able to write up her reports in Sister’s office without interruption. There was a minor upheaval soon after tea when the patient who had had the appendectomy recovered consciousness and was sick all over his bed, but the sheets were soon changed and Darrell spent several minutes assuring the poor man that he had not been the nuisance he imagined. Then it was time to hand over to the night staff, and Darrell collected her cape and handbag and left the building.
It had been an unsettled day, periodically raining and then becoming sunny, but the evening was quite delightful, the sky almost completely rid of the clouds which had caused the showers. She walked down Hollyhurst Road feeling more relaxed than she had done walking up it that morning, and was shocked out of her reverie when a long gunmetal grey car pulled alongside her. She didn’t recognise the car. It belonged to no one she knew, she was sure – an impression which was quickly allayed when Matthew Lawford climbed out.
He was wearing a dark suit in some sort of soft suede, and his tie was very black against his white shirt. The thick brown hair lay smoothly against his head, and his thick lashes hid the expression in his eyes. There were lines beside his mouth which she didn’t think had been there yesterday, and a feathering of anticipation slid along her spine.
“Hello, Darrell,” he greeted her quietly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“For me?” Darrell glanced all round her, as though she couldn’t believe he was addressing her, but the road was almost deserted. Then she looked into the car, and it was empty, too. Hot colour ran up her cheeks. “I – I don’t understand.” Or did she? “Why are you waiting for me?”
Matthew swung open the passenger side door. “Get inside,” he directed. “I have to talk to you.”
Darrell didn’t know what to say. All her emotions clamoured for her to do as he asked, but cold logic kept her standing on the pavement. “Whatever it is – whatever it is you have to say to me, can’t – can’t it be said here?” she stammered.
His eyes were narrowed. “What’s the matter, Darrell? Don’t you trust me?” he enquired, his voice acquiring an edge of coldness.
Darrell felt terrible. “It’s not that. Oh – oh, very well.”
With many misgivings, she climbed into the front of the car and he slammed her door before walking round to slide in beside her. He closed his door, but he did not immediately start the engine, and she tensed.
“It’s about Susan – Susan and Frank,” he told her steadily. “I gather you haven’t heard the news today?”
“The news? What news?”
Darrell was hopelessly confused, but something in his tone stirred a ripple of cold premonition inside her.
Matthew sighed. “There’s been a crash, Darrell,” he replied tonelessly. “Late last night. But it was early this morning before we got the news …”
“News?” Darrell stared at him blankly. Then: “You can’t mean – you don’t mean – the plane –”
Matthew looked down at his hand resting lightly on the wheel. “Susan and Frank are dead, Darrell –”
“Oh, no!”
“– they were killed instantly, I think. There were no survivors.”
“Oh, no!” Darrell moved her head disbelievingly from side to side. “It can’t be true. It mustn’t be true!”
“But it is true, Darrell. I assure you.” Matthew drew a steadying breath. “How do you think the family feel? How do you think my mother feels? My father …” He shook his head. “Well, he’s getting good and drunk, but my mother …” He paused. “Will you come?”
Darrell nodded, pressing trembling hands to her cheeks, feeling the prick of tears behind her lids. Matthew looked at her, as though to assure himself that she was all right, and that direct stare was the undoing of her. Unable to prevent herself, she burst into tears, feeling the salty drops wetting her hands as they streamed unheeded down her cheeks. It had all been too much – the tension over the wedding and Celine’s outburst, her own troubled feelings towards Matthew, and now this … Poor Susan! Poor Frank! Not even their wedding night had been spared them …
With an exclamation, Matthew reached for her, pulling her against him, putting his arms around her and pressing her face against his chest. He had unbuttoned his jacket and his shirt was smooth and silky against her cheek. Beneath its softness she could feel the hardness of muscle, smell the shaving lotion he wore, inhale the clean fragrance of his skin. His heart was beating steadily in her ears, and his strength was something she badly needed just at this moment. But alongside this feeling were other feelings, and it was the knowledge of their presence even in these moments of stress which forced her to draw back from him and search blindly for a tissue.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not normally so emotional. It was just a such a – such a terrible – shock!”
“I know,” Matthew nodded, buttoning his jacket again as he turned to the wheel. His voice was strangely taut as he commented: “It’s better to cry if you can. Releases tension, isn’t that what they say?”
Darrell dried her eyes. “I suppose so. Could we – that is – I’d rather not go – like this.” She indicated her uniform selfconsciously.
Matthew started the engine and swung the powerful car away from the kerb. “Just direct me to where you live,” he answered. “I’ll wait while you change.”
When they reached the flats, Darrell turned to him. “I – will you come in?” she invited awkwardly.
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
Darrell
