The Forgotten Room(111)

Moonlight poured through the skylight, turning the studio ebony and silver. There. There John had kissed her. There. There John had told her about his wife.

He must have tidied after she left. The sketches were gone from the floor, the Chinese cabinet closed, the bricks in their place above the mantel.

She half expected the mechanism to fail, but it didn’t. When she pushed on the knight’s shield, the bricks of the wall swung out as easily and soundlessly as though they had been waiting for her. Inside, she could see the sad remains of her mother’s affair with Harry Pratt: the detective’s report, his letter.

Before she could think better of it, Lucy thrust John’s letter on top of the pile.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” she murmured to the empty room. “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, does it?”

Moonlight glinted off the knight’s shield, just as it had, in those long-ago evenings, off the mural in her room.

There are consolations. From very far away, Lucy heard her mother’s voice, felt her arm around her, sitting with her, late at night, in a small bed a borough away. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect, but there are consolations.

For a moment, Lucy thought she smelled lavender, heard the crinkle of her mother’s long, starched skirts, but then it was gone, and the room, once again, was still, its secrets hidden beneath a silver wash of moonlight.

“Good-bye,” Lucy said to no one in particular, and, closing the door, went downstairs to face the dawn.





Thirty-one




SEPTEMBER 1944


Kate


“Kate?”

I looked up when I realized that my name had been called more than twice. I blinked, trying to remember where I was and why, and with whom. Not that any of it mattered. Not that anything seemed to matter anymore.

“Kate, would you like another cigarette?”

I blinked again, trying to remember Dr. Greeley’s first name, but couldn’t. He’d probably be flattered if I called him Doctor even outside the hospital, so I didn’t try very hard to recall it. I tapped my fingers on the top of his desk, then took a final drag on my cigarette before stabbing it out in a glass ashtray. “No. Thank you. I should be getting back to my patients.”

His hand slid up my arm and I didn’t move away. Not that I had any intention of following through with any of his innuendoes, but I simply didn’t have the energy to push his hand off me any more than I had the energy to eat or return Margie’s calls.

Dr. Greeley leaned toward me with what could only be described as a leer. “It must be nice to have your room all to yourself again.”

I thought of the barren room at the top of the stairs, stripped again of its two extra beds and all of the extraneous furniture that had once given it a cozy atmosphere, and suppressed a shudder. Looking straight into his eyes, I said, “I sleep with a surgical knife and I know how to use it.”

His hand left my arm, allowing me to step away. His lips pressed together. “I’m a patient man, Kate, but even my patience has its limits.”

I opened the office door as I tried to think of something to say, and found myself staring into Nurse Hathaway’s raised hand, her knuckles prepared to knock. She smiled brightly. “I was hoping to find you in here. Nobody seemed to know where you’d gone.”

I smiled back at her, using my eyes to thank her for rescuing me again. Ever since Cooper had left, she’d been keeping a protective watch over me, which was a good thing since I seemed to be a lost wanderer in the dark, running into walls, unsure of which direction to move. The only thing I could rely on was my medical training, my confidence as a doctor, and my ability to heal and nurture patients. It consoled me, almost reassured me that I’d made the right decision in allowing Cooper out of my life. Almost.

“Nurse Hathaway,” I said. “I was just leaving.”

“Perfect timing, then. You have a visitor.”

I felt something stir in my chest, and she must have seen something in my eyes, because her smile dimmed. “It’s Mrs. Prunella Schuyler. She says she’s a relative.”

I looked at her in surprise. “She’s here? At the hospital?”

“Yes. I brought her to the patient consulting office to give you some privacy if you wanted to chat. Should I bring up some tea?”

“That would be lovely . . .”

“She doesn’t have time,” Dr. Greeley said, looking at his watch. “She has rounds in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, turning my back on him as I exited his office and walked down the hall to the same stained glass door of the office in which I’d sat when Margie had come to visit and tell me what she’d learned at the library about the Pratt family.

“She brought her maid,” Nurse Hathaway whispered. “So you won’t be alone with her.”

I nodded my thanks, then pushed open the office door after a brief knock.

Mona had left off her white apron and mobcap, but she was wearing the same black dress of shiny and worn material. She smiled and stood as I entered.

“I told the missus that it would be the polite thing to do to give ye some advance warning, but she’d have none of it.”

Prunella scowled at the maid as she plucked off her gloves, finger by finger. “That is enough, Mona. You are excused for the next fifteen minutes.”