Читать книгу Accident by Design - Edith Caroline Rivett - Страница 4

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“I think it’s horrible! You’ve only done it for your own satisfaction ... to give you a sense of power. It’s absolute sadism.”

Gerald Vanstead heard his wife’s voice rise in pitch, get shriller and uglier with every word she uttered, and his own nerves seemed to jangle in protest. Why must Meriel shout like that? ... and was her accent getting worse every day?

In complete contrast came his sister’s voice. Judith Vanstead had always had a beautiful voice—their father had often laughingly called her Cordelia.

“Would it be a good idea to look up sadism in the dictionary, Meriel?” asked Judith. “I don’t think you really understand what it implies. Anyway, never mind. I’m sorry you’re upset, but I had to tell you exactly how things are. It’s right that you should know. Waterson is one of the greatest surgeons living and he wouldn’t suggest operating if he didn’t think it worth while. It may give father another twelve months—he will see the spring again....”

She broke off, and turned to her brother. “I must go up to Father again now, Gerald. I’ll leave you to talk to Meriel; you’ll be better at explaining than I am.”

Judith moved quietly across the room, serene and dignified, as though she had not even heard her sister-in-law’s shrill voice uttering abuse. Gerald stood up automatically as his sister crossed the room, old habit and training reasserting itself. He opened the door for Judith and closed it behind her, and Meriel broke out again in venomous shrillness.

“It is horrible.... He’s nearly eighty, he’s got this hideous disease and suffers hell ... and Judith and the surgeons have persuaded him to have another operation, just to make him live a few months longer, when life’s nothing but hell for him anyway.... Why can’t they let him go quietly, help him out.”

“Look here, Meriel, you mustn’t say things like that,” protested Gerald. “You’re being very indiscreet, to say the least of it. Don’t let Judith get the impression you’re wanting Father to die. It’s——” He broke off, and then added lamely: “Well—we’re the last people who ought to say things like that, old girl, aren’t we? Liable to be misinterpreted.”

Meriel looked across at her husband, her face sullen and flushed and obstinate. “You know what I mean, Jerry, so don’t get riding the high horse,” she said. “You agreed with me yesterday when I said it was a horrible idea to operate on him again.”

“I know I did, but I didn’t realise that the surgeon thought they could give him another year or two. Dash it all, Merry, the poor old boy wants to go on living ... it’s his decision. If he finds life worth living—well, good luck to him.”

“It isn’t his decision. It’s Judith’s,” she replied. “He told me weeks ago that all he wanted was to go out quietly, he was sick of the everlasting pain. Judith doesn’t want to keep him alive for his own happiness, but for her own prestige. She’s Miss Vanstead of Templedean Place ... she runs this place and queens it over the Village. You know, Jerry. She’s everything. You’re nothing. And I’m plain dirt.”

Gerald muttered an uncomfortable disclaimer, his thin face twitching unhappily, but Meriel cut in again:

“Another year or two, Jerry.... Do you think I’m going on like this for another year or two?—being condescended to by Judith, knowing all the time she despises me and thinks I’m just an ill-bred slut? When I stuck it out in that bloody Jap prison camp, it wasn’t to come here and be treated like Judith’s poor relation. I fought for my life and Alan’s ... even you don’t know what I did to keep him alive ... while Judith was driving a W.V.S. car and talking about equality of sacrifice because she had no butler. God, she makes me sick!”

Meriel caught her breath in a gasp that was not far removed from hysteria, and Gerald said hastily, “Come upstairs and have a drink, Merry. You need it. So do I. I’ve got some gin in the wardrobe.”

Meriel laughed—a laugh which was half a sob. “Gin in the wardrobe! What would Judith say? I know ... that it’s my influence ... you were a gentleman till you married me.”