“Are you all right, dear?” It was a long time since he had used any blandishments. She must have frightened him when she knocked on death’s door. What would have happened if it had opened and she had stepped over the threshold to the other side? There would undoubtedly have been judgement of her sins. She would not have been able to put up a defence. “I’m fine, thank you,” she murmured. “You had no need to come, you know.”
“Of course I came. You are precious to me.” Precious? What an unlikely word for him to use. Ridiculous, really.
What time was it? There was none of the background murmur that accompanied visiting hour. What if her family found him here? They would draw conclusions. And they would be right. He held her hand lightly. She wished he wouldn’t and she had to stop herself from pulling away, but he was rarely tender so she suffered it. She imagined Nellie walking in and seeing them. The thought made her deeply uneasy. She had confessed a great deal to Nellie in the back of the Bentley, but there were things her mother must never know. It was Edith, not Gwendolen Kelling, who had set in motion the fall of the house of Coker. The only thing that would redeem her now was if she could stop the collapse.
The lamps were lit and the unpleasant green curtains at the windows were drawn. The ones to the rest of the ward were open. Anyone could see in. Again the possibility of Nellie was troubling. What time was it? （What day was it?） “Is it visiting time?” she asked him anxiously. Nellie had already visited, would she come again? Edith hoped not.
“No, I popped in on my way home from work.” He had a home and all that went with it, but he rarely mentioned it. She knew there was a new baby. It was a fecund household. Edith had seen his wife once, in the street, on his arm, going into a restaurant. She was more attractive and less downtrodden than Edith had led herself to think.
How did he get past the matron? You could have been the King himself, but if it wasn’t between three and four in the afternoon you would be thrown out on your ear. Unless you were Nellie, of course.
He laughed. “Said it was official business. They know me here anyway. You’ve been out of it for a while, they said you took the anaesthetic pretty heavily. Blood poisoning, they said. How on earth did that happen?”
Is that what the hospital had told him? Nellie must be spreading her largesse. “Who knows?” Edith said. “A rusty nail, perhaps.” She would never tell him what had happened to her.
He took a noticeable breath, she could see him gathering himself, it was a prelude to deception. She knew him. “You didn’t say anything, did you?” he said in an offhand way. “When you were coming round? People can be unguarded after they’ve been out.”
She stared at him. That was why he was here? Not to be solicitous, but to make sure she hadn’t accidentally blabbed. Edith felt cold, all of a sudden. The smell of the flowers was making her feel sick and she flapped her hand about until he grabbed an enamel bowl and helped her to sit up. Her insides heaved out.
“There, there,” he said, rubbing her back. He had children, she reminded herself.
What if she had blabbed? Or told him that she intended to? Told him that she’d had enough of his game and was going to turn him in? What would he have done then? Her brain felt febrile. She knew him to be ruthless, that was why she had liked him, but what if he turned that ruthlessness on her? She would have to stay on her toes. The thought gave her some energy and she said, “You should go.”
“I’ll see you soon, Edith.” He gave her a pecky kiss on her clammy forehead. She was relieved when he left. A nurse came in and said, “What lovely flowers, Miss Coker, I’ll put them in a vase.”
She could still see him, in the corridor. See him being ambushed by one of the night sisters, see him putting on the charm. He couldn’t have got where he was without charm. She heard the nurse’s silly trill of laughter as she said, “What are you doing here? We’re not all under arrest, are we, Inspector Maddox?”
* * *
—
Maddox! Nellie was so surprised—a rare occurrence—that she said, “Oh,” out loud, prompting a passing ward nurse to ask her if everything was all right. “Quite, thank you,” Nellie said. “Are you looking for someone?” the nurse persisted.
“I’ve found them, thank you,” Nellie said, gazing at the end of the corridor, where Edith’s room was situated. The curtains had been pulled aside （she must have a word with someone about that） and Nellie could see in quite clearly. The nurse lingered, it was long past visiting time and she was confused by Nellie’s presence, but Maddox was not the only one who could circumvent the matron’s regulations. A crisp, new one-pound note could get you in （and out） of almost anywhere, in Nellie’s experience. She had a pocketful in her coat, a sable. Even her Chandos Place dressmaker could not tailor the coat to make Nellie look like anything other than a giant mammal. （“A beaver, or a very large otter,” Betty said to Shirley. “When she dies, that sable is mine. If she dies,” Shirley said.）