to be on Thursday. Joint affair, so I believe. Susan and Frank. Susan and Frank!”
Tears appeared at the corners of her eyes and she dabbed them away. But it was difficult to remain immune from the awful tragedy of it all.
Darrell was making fresh sandwiches in an effort to tempt the men to eat something at least when the kitchen door opened and Celine came in. Up until then, Darrell had assumed she must have got her way and been installed in some hotel, but it was obvious from the petulance of her expression that this was not so.
Heaving a heavy sigh, she came and perched on the corner of the table, watching Darrell working with a jaundiced eye. “You must like being here,” she commented, grimacing. “Imagine coming back at a time like this.”
There was no evidence of grief in Celine’s bored expression and Darrell wondered that anyone could remain unmoved by what had occurred. Particularly when that someone was so close to the family. But then Celine would probably tell her that she was not close to the family. She probably hadn’t met Susan above a dozen times. They were virtually strangers to her. All the same, even a stranger might find it difficult not to respond to the pathos of it all.
“I hope someone’s hungry.” Darrell avoided any open confrontation. “I wonder if everyone likes cheese with chutney.”
“I suppose, being a nurse, you’re used to situations like this,” remarked Celine, bringing a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her well cut slacks. Although she was small, she was very slender, and the masculine attire accentuated her femininity.
Darrell nodded now. This at least was safer ground. “Yes. Although one never quite learns to accept it.”
Celine lit her cigarette. “Oh, come on,” she exclaimed. “You don’t mean to tell me you feel for every passing corpse that comes your way!”
Darrell didn’t care for her turn of phrase. “Death is always unexpected,” she replied carefully. “I can never quite get over the feeling of loss when two people are in a room together and suddenly one of them –” She broke off. “I’m sorry. That was morbid of me.” She quartered the pile of sandwiches and began arranging them on a plate. “When – when are you leaving? After – the funeral?”
Celine exhaled smoke through her nostrils, looking irritable. “God alone knows, I don’t! Matthew should have left today at the latest. He has a board meeting tomorrow afternoon, and he leaves for New York on Wednesday.”
Darrell turned to rinse her fingers at the sink. “I – I believe the funeral’s not until Thursday,” she murmured.
“I know that. But Matthew’s a busy man, his work is important. He can’t just neglect everything because there’s been a plane crash …”
“It is a family bereavement,” Darrell pointed out quietly.
“Do you think I’m not aware of that, too? My God, it’s been thrust down my throat ever since I came here. Family this – family that. It’s sickening! What has Matthew in common with his family now? He doesn’t live like they do, he doesn’t think like they do, he doesn’t act like they do. His world is not their world. All right, so Susan’s dead, and that’s a pity. But you could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her in the last five years!”
“Nevertheless, she was his sister, and his mother needs his support –”
“His mother needs his support! What about me? Don’t I need his support, too? My God, what has his mother ever done for him? What has his blessed family ever done for him?”
Darrell dried her hands and found a tray for the sandwiches. “If you’ll excuse me …” she murmured uncomfortably.
Celine slid off the table and paced restlessly about the kitchen. “Oh, yes, go on, go and play nursemaid to all of them. I’m superfluous here. I’m not even allowed a lousy drink to drown my sorrows, do you know that?” She snorted angrily. “Tea – that’s all they can think about. The universal panacea. Well, not for me!”
Darrell determinedly exceed herself and left the kitchen. She knocked at the dining room door and went in. The younger Lawford brothers were playing cards at the table, while Matthew and the next oldest brother Martin were standing together, talking in low tones. Martin was married, too, but his wife, Alison, came from Sedgeley, and as she was eight months pregnant at this time was spending the day with her own parents. They all looked up at Darrell’s entrance, and Jeff made an effort to act naturally.
“That was a kind idea, Darrell,” he said, getting up and taking the tray from her. “What have we here? Cheese? Ham?”
“It’s a mixture. Some are cheese and chutney, some are ham. It was all I could find, I’m afraid.”
“Well, I’m starving,” announced David Lawford, getting up as well and taking one of the sandwiches. He was eighteen and the youngest of the brothers. “Is there any beer? I could do with a drink as well.”
“I know where there’s some lager,” said Jeff, putting the tray on the table.
“I’ll make tea, if you’d rather,” ventured Darrell, but David shook his head.
“I think we’ve had enough tea today,” he replied, with a faint smile. “What about you? Are you going to join us?”
“Oh, no.” Darrell backed towards the door, conscious of Matthew’s eyes upon her. “No, I’ve got plenty to do. I’ll tell your mother you’re having something to eat in here.”
“When you want to leave, let me know.” Matthew spoke for the first time, and Darrell could feel the colour running up her cheeks.
“I can take Darrell home,” interjected Jeff, looking impatiently at his brother.
“I brought her here, so naturally I’ll take her home,” retorted Matthew coolly, and Jeff reached for a sandwich with ill grace.
“I suppose your car is more comfortable than my mini,” he muttered, with his mouth full, and Darrell shifted uncomfortably.
“I can always take the bus – or get a taxi,” she murmured. “Er – if you’ll excuse me …”
To her relief, Celine had gone when she got back to the kitchen, but Mrs. Lawford was there.
“Oh, there you are, Darrell,” she exclaimed. “I was looking for you. Dr. Morrison’s here, and I think he’d like to see you.”
“Dr. Morrison? Would like to see me?” Darrell was confused.
“Yes. He – he came to offer his condolences.” Mrs. Lawford sniffed, and then controlled herself. “Come along, child. Don’t keep him waiting.”
Adrian Morrison was standing in the hall, talking to Mrs. Lawford’s sister, but he looked up with some relief himself when Darrell appeared. Mrs. Lawford beckoned her sister away, and the doctor turned to her understandingly.
“We’ve just had the news,” he said, “and I wanted you to know that if you’d like a few days off, I’m sure it can be arranged.”
“But Doctor Morrison –”
“Look,
