him so. His right arm was bandaged and held close to his body by a sling. A wooden cane leaned against his chair. A smattering of new grey hairs had come in around his temples, making him even more handsome.
‘I know. I look horrible. I didn’t mean to surprise you, but I get the distinct impression that you’re avoiding me.’
I sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘No, it’s not that.’
‘You don’t have to say anything. Just sit with me. We can figure out what to say to each other later.’ He reached over and took my hand in his. The heat of him came over me in waves, knocking me off guard.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said.
‘I know.’ My words were but a whisper. I couldn’t find my voice. ‘I know that I got the job because of you. I’ll repay you somehow,’ I said.
A look of hurt flashed in his eyes. ‘You owe me nothing, Sarah.’
I nodded at him, mumbled some feeble excuse, and fled to the safety of my own room.
* * *
I spent the afternoon with the Agatha Christie mystery, trying without much success to push thoughts of Zeke to the back of my mind. When the clock struck five, I filled my claw-foot tub to the brim with piping hot water, and soaked until my skin wrinkled and the water turned tepid.
I spent a quiet evening with Mrs McDougal. We ate our meal together – potatoes au gratin, salad with green goddess dressing, and green beans – chatting like old friends, while various nurses and orderlies who worked the night shift came into the kitchen for tea or coffee.
Mrs McDougal didn’t ask prying questions, but every now and then I caught her staring with an inquisitive look. We both liked Inner Sanctum Mysteries, and after dinner we retired to the cosy sitting room where Mrs McDougal spent her free time. We listened to the show together on the new Philco radio with a mahogany cabinet, a gift from Dr Geisler.
Back in my bedroom, I made quick work of my evening ablutions. I took the drops of morphine and crawled into bed exhausted from my long day, confident that the tincture would continue to stave off the merciless sobbing.
I dreamed that Zeke had recovered from his injuries. In my dream we were on a picnic in Golden Gate Park. Zeke put his sandwich down and reached out his hand to touch my face. ‘I’ll never leave you, Sarah,’ he whispered to me. He morphed into someone different, someone who stroked my face, saying strange words I did not understand. I awoke, disoriented, not sure where I was.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, the shape of a man standing near my bed came into focus. This was no dream. A flesh-and-blood man stood at the end of my bed. When he moved close to me and reached out to touch my face, I screamed.
My scream pierced the silence. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I recognized Mr Collins as he scurried crablike to the corner of my bedroom. He squatted there, shielding his face with his hands, rocking back and forth.
A nurse stood in my bedroom doorway, the light from the hallway forming a halo behind her. She took one look at Mr Collins and at me and called out. ‘Staff, please.’ When no one responded she said, ‘Now.’
Soon another nurse with mousy brown hair joined us.
‘Miss Joffey, please see if you can get him settled down.’
The nurse who arrived first stood aside to let the woman into the room. She motioned for the two orderlies who stood in the corridor to wait outside. When she turned on the lamp, I saw her red hair, the smattering of freckles across the nose. The nametag on her chest said Eunice Martin. She grabbed my robe from the chair where I had thrown it the previous night and wrapped it around my shoulders. Miss Joffey knelt next to Mr Collins. She spoke to him in a soothing voice until his breathing quieted and the rocking motion stopped. Mr Collins took his hands away from his face and gazed at us, a befuddled look on his face.
‘What’s going on?’ Bethany hurried into the room. She had wrapped a flannel dressing gown over her pyjamas. In her haste, she hadn’t noticed that the dressing gown was inside out.
‘It’s Mr Collins,’ Eunice Martin said. ‘He’s been wandering again.’
‘Mr Collins, you need to go back to your room now.’ Bethany spoke with a sure authority. ‘Let Nurse Martin and Nurse Joffey take you back to bed. It’s time to go back to sleep.’
Mr Collins allowed the nurses to help him to his feet.
‘You know it’s not polite to go into anyone else’s bedroom without permission.’ Bethany spoke in the same tone she would use to speak to a child.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Bethany. I just wanted to touch the fire in her hair.’
‘Mr Collins, you mustn’t sneak into other people’s rooms, no matter the reason. You owe Miss Bennett an apology.’
‘I’m sorry, but the light—’
‘That’s all right, Mr Collins. But I would prefer if you would knock before you enter my room.’
He grabbed Eunice’s arm and pointed to me. ‘Can you see the light?’
‘You may take him,’ Bethany said.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Miss Joffey put her arm around Mr Collins and led him away.
He followed like an obedient puppy.
‘Sarah, are you okay to go back to sleep? I can give you something, if you need it,’ Bethany said.
‘No thank you.’
‘I’m sorry if you were frightened. Mr Collins should not have entered your room. He’s never done anything like that before. I can’t imagine what has got into him.’
‘I’ll be fine. Thank you.’
‘Good night then.’
‘Good night,’ I said.
After Bethany shut the door behind her, I opened the window. I took the chair from the writing desk and dragged it over to the door, where I wedged it underneath the knob. Only then, secure in the knowledge that no one else could get in, was I able to sleep.
* * *
When I awoke the next morning, a shroud of fog had settled over the city. The wind blew against my windows, rattling them like a witch’s curse, causing the grey mist to swirl like waves. I dressed and headed downstairs, anxious to begin my day. In the foyer, two maids swept the marble floor. Chloe, the young woman who answered the door for me yesterday, had her head bent over some sort of ledger, copying numbers from a pile of receipts. She nodded at me as I passed her desk.
Once again, I followed the smell of coffee and cinnamon to the kitchen, where Alice laboured over something that smelled like heaven. She rolled out dough onto the section of the chopping block that had been covered in flour. Mrs McDougal stood near her, arms across her chest, supervising the girl’s
