The Happy Prisoner Read Free Page B

…”
    Elizabeth, who had formed her own opinion of the case long ago from her interview with Oliver’s doctor, listened politely to what they both had to say, and when Mrs. North at last decided to go and finish off the lunch, set about making Oliver comfortable as surely and successfully as if she had been nursing him for weeks.
    .…
    It was a lovely afternoon. The sun, which had been in and out of clouds all morning, was standing in a clear blue sky by the time it reached the spot above the hill from where it shone on to his bed. The autumn and spring suns were better than the high suns of midsummer, which were only at the right angle for his low old window in the early morning and in the evening. This sun could shine into his room from two o’clock until it set behind the elms.
    â€œGoing out this afternoon?” he asked Elizabeth, when she came to fetch his coffee-cup. “Wish I could show you round. It’s rather a nice old place. We rent out most of the land and the farm buildings now, but Fred won’t mind where you go. Fred Williams—he’s our tenant. He lives in that cottage you can see by the poplar over there. My eldest sister works for him. D’you like farms? There’s a couple of cart foals in the paddock by the front drive, they tell me, that might appeal to you. Don’t worry about me if you want to go out. I shan’t want a thing. Never do.”
    â€œI might go out perhaps,” said Elizabeth, “when I’ve done the washing up.”
    â€œDon’t let them work you too hard. I warn you, my mother is one of these people who would die at the sink sooner than leave the plates till tomorrow.”
    He spoke lightly, but Elizabeth answered quite seriously, “It’s specified as part of my job that I should help in the house. Mrs. North has drawn me up a time-table so that I can fit that in withmy nursing.” She pulled a typed sheet of paper out of her pocket and showed it to Oliver.
    He laughed. “Isn’t that typical? Every minute of the day accounted for, my poor Nurse Gray. ‘Off Duty: 2.30–4.30.’ You’ll find yourself going down to the village then to do some shopping and catch the London post. You wait. What’s this? ‘Household chores!’” He laughed again. “How the woman harks back to Ardmore, Pa. ‘9 a.m.: Major North’s breakfast. 9.15: Make beds with me upstairs. 10 a.m: Major North’s dressing.’ How the devil does she know when I want my dressing done? ‘11.1: Help Mrs Cowlin prepare lunch, when I’m not doing it. Listen for Major North’s bell—’ Look here, I
never
ring my bell. You can cut that out.” He rummaged on his bedside table for a pencil and Elizabeth stepped forward quickly and handed it to him. He scored heavily through a line.
    â€œThanks. I say,” he said, reading on, “I hope you don’t think we’re expecting too much. It looks an awful lot set down like this but half the things aren’t necessary, and when you shake down and sort of get into the hang of things here, it’ll boil down a bit.”
    â€œIt seems quite all right, thank you,” said Elizabeth, taking back the paper, folding it neatly and putting it back into her pocket. It would help a lot, Oliver thought, if she would give some indication of what she thought of the household.
    â€œWhat about your back?” she asked. “You ought to have that rubbed at two, oughtn’t you?”
    â€œGood God, no. I’m not in hospital now, thank Heaven. You go away and do your ‘Household chores’ and then get out into this sun. Get one of the girls to show you round. You’ve met them, have you—my sisters?”
    â€œOh yes. Mrs. Sandys was at lunch with her little boy, and Miss North met me at Shrewsbury station. She didn’t come to lunch. She came in after we’d started and cut herself a cheese sandwich