noticed. She darted out of the door and bumped into Roddy.
He seemed more embarrassed than she was. ‘Oh, I say, sorry and all that. I was just . . . I thought I ought to clean the bath, don’t you know.’
It sounded lame to Verity. ‘The maid will do that.’
‘I know, but the water . . . and the blood. I thought . . . not fit for her to see, if you get me. Is that the razor?’
Verity had put it on the round stool beside the bath. ‘Yes, I think it must have been Mr Pitt-Messanger’s. It has his initials on the handle.’
As Roddy picked up the razor and examined it, she hid the diary behind her back. ‘How is she?’ she asked, with an intensity which owed more to her shock than a real concern for Maud.
‘The doctor thinks she’ll be all right. Thank God he was on the spot but then again, I suppose Dominic would have coped by himself if it had been necessary. It was prescient of them to see the poor woman was suicidal.’
‘Anyone could see she was at the end of her tether,’ Verity said, squashingly.
Roddy, rather abashed, said, ‘Well then, I’ll clean up the bath.’
‘I’ll . . . I’ll see if I can help Maud. It’s rather silly but I’m not too good with blood. I’ve seen a lot of it . . . in Spain and it makes me feel sick.’ She put her hand to her mouth and muttered, ‘Back in a sec.’ She took off for her room leaving Roddy looking rather surprised.
Verity cast around for a hiding place and, after a moment’s hesitation, slipped the diary into one of her shoes. She glanced at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Why on earth had she stolen it? An instinct? Was she being absurd? There was probably nothing sinister about its single entry but it struck her as odd for Maud to have taken it into the bathroom if she was planning to commit suicide.
When she returned, no one seemed to have missed her. Everyone was crowded round the bed staring at Maud. She was as white as the towel she was lying on but she was alive. Her breathing was light and fast and her eyelids fluttered. She was moaning. Isolde was sitting on the bed holding her hand very gently so as not to disturb the bandages.
Virginia touched Montillo’s arm. ‘She will have you to thank for saving her life. If you hadn’t gone after her to see how she was . . .’
‘Morris and I were both worried about her. I thought she might need something to help her sleep but when I knocked on her door, there was no answer. We were just about to go downstairs again – I thought she must already be asleep – when Morris noticed the bathroom door was open. The light was on and there was steam pouring out into the passage. I put my head round the door and saw her.’
‘It must have been awful.’
‘Yes, but I’m more used to this sort of emergency than other people. In my sanatorium, I have many patients with nervous problems. I have had my eye on her ever since she has been here and it has been quite obvious that she is mentally unstable. I might suggest she spends a few weeks in my sanatorium. She has obviously been traumatized by her father’s death and she might benefit from a complete change of scene. For now, I think it would be best if we all went downstairs and left her alone with the doctor. It won’t do her any good to have a crowd round her bed. She just needs to sleep and regain her strength.’
Verity knew he meant to be kind but there was something arrogant about the way he talked of Maud as damaged goods which grated.
Virginia led the way downstairs. When Dr Morris reappeared in the drawing-room he was able to reassure them that Maud was in no danger.
‘Thank God we found her in time. It would have taken her an hour or two to bleed to death – longer perhaps. She’ll be very weak tomorrow and must stay in bed but she’ll be all right. I will visit her about midday.’
‘And I’ll look in on her before I turn it,’ Montillo added.
‘Now, Lady Castlewood, I think I will go home,’ Dr Morris said, wiping
He seemed more embarrassed than she was. ‘Oh, I say, sorry and all that. I was just . . . I thought I ought to clean the bath, don’t you know.’
It sounded lame to Verity. ‘The maid will do that.’
‘I know, but the water . . . and the blood. I thought . . . not fit for her to see, if you get me. Is that the razor?’
Verity had put it on the round stool beside the bath. ‘Yes, I think it must have been Mr Pitt-Messanger’s. It has his initials on the handle.’
As Roddy picked up the razor and examined it, she hid the diary behind her back. ‘How is she?’ she asked, with an intensity which owed more to her shock than a real concern for Maud.
‘The doctor thinks she’ll be all right. Thank God he was on the spot but then again, I suppose Dominic would have coped by himself if it had been necessary. It was prescient of them to see the poor woman was suicidal.’
‘Anyone could see she was at the end of her tether,’ Verity said, squashingly.
Roddy, rather abashed, said, ‘Well then, I’ll clean up the bath.’
‘I’ll . . . I’ll see if I can help Maud. It’s rather silly but I’m not too good with blood. I’ve seen a lot of it . . . in Spain and it makes me feel sick.’ She put her hand to her mouth and muttered, ‘Back in a sec.’ She took off for her room leaving Roddy looking rather surprised.
Verity cast around for a hiding place and, after a moment’s hesitation, slipped the diary into one of her shoes. She glanced at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Why on earth had she stolen it? An instinct? Was she being absurd? There was probably nothing sinister about its single entry but it struck her as odd for Maud to have taken it into the bathroom if she was planning to commit suicide.
When she returned, no one seemed to have missed her. Everyone was crowded round the bed staring at Maud. She was as white as the towel she was lying on but she was alive. Her breathing was light and fast and her eyelids fluttered. She was moaning. Isolde was sitting on the bed holding her hand very gently so as not to disturb the bandages.
Virginia touched Montillo’s arm. ‘She will have you to thank for saving her life. If you hadn’t gone after her to see how she was . . .’
‘Morris and I were both worried about her. I thought she might need something to help her sleep but when I knocked on her door, there was no answer. We were just about to go downstairs again – I thought she must already be asleep – when Morris noticed the bathroom door was open. The light was on and there was steam pouring out into the passage. I put my head round the door and saw her.’
‘It must have been awful.’
‘Yes, but I’m more used to this sort of emergency than other people. In my sanatorium, I have many patients with nervous problems. I have had my eye on her ever since she has been here and it has been quite obvious that she is mentally unstable. I might suggest she spends a few weeks in my sanatorium. She has obviously been traumatized by her father’s death and she might benefit from a complete change of scene. For now, I think it would be best if we all went downstairs and left her alone with the doctor. It won’t do her any good to have a crowd round her bed. She just needs to sleep and regain her strength.’
Verity knew he meant to be kind but there was something arrogant about the way he talked of Maud as damaged goods which grated.
Virginia led the way downstairs. When Dr Morris reappeared in the drawing-room he was able to reassure them that Maud was in no danger.
‘Thank God we found her in time. It would have taken her an hour or two to bleed to death – longer perhaps. She’ll be very weak tomorrow and must stay in bed but she’ll be all right. I will visit her about midday.’
‘And I’ll look in on her before I turn it,’ Montillo added.
‘Now, Lady Castlewood, I think I will go home,’ Dr Morris said, wiping
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