Ken McClure - The Anvil

There was a long pause before Tansy asked, ‘Where have you been Sean? Why didn’t you come to the hospital?’

MacLean heard the note of accusation in her voice. He said, ‘It was best to let people think it was me who died in the fire. Lehman Steiner will see the newspaper reports. They’ll stop looking for me and we can be free of them forever, the three of us.’

MacLean hoped to prompt Tansy into saying something about Carrie but she didn’t. He had to ask, ‘Have you seen Carrie since the fire?’

‘No, they transferred her to another hospital but she’s out of danger, thank God.’

MacLean knew from Tansy’s voice that the hospital hadn’t told her the full story. ‘Did they tell you why they were transferring her?’ he asked.

‘No,’ replied Tansy innocently. ‘I supposed they were taking her to the children’s hospital. Why?’

MacLean screwed his eyes tight shut and said, ‘They’ve taken her to a serious burns unit Tansy.’

‘Oh my God!.. Oh God no! Not her face!’

MacLean heard a hysterical note creep into Tansy’s voice. The distance between them was like iron bars. It would have been so much better to be able to hold and comfort her. ‘It’s early days yet,’ he said. ‘It’ll take a couple of weeks to assess the damage properly.’

‘You must know!’ accused Tansy. ‘You saw her when you brought her out of the fire.’

‘It was dark and she was covered in soot. I couldn’t really tell,’ said MacLean.

Tansy calmed down and MacLean did his best to reassure her in spite of his own misgivings. He gave her his address and asked her to come there as soon as she was discharged from the hospital. He would warn the landlord that his wife would be joining him this weekend.

In the event Tansy arrived at ten-thirty next morning. There was an awkward moment when she and MacLean faced each other in the hallway for the first time since the fire but it passed when MacLean took her into his arms and they held each other tightly. The tears ran freely down Tansy’s face. ‘When they told me you were dead I just wanted to die myself,’ she whispered.

MacLean wiped away her tears and started to lead her upstairs with his arm round her shoulders. He noticed his landlord had his door ajar and was watching them. ‘Don’t see each other much then?’ he asked.

MacLean pretended he hadn’t heard.

Tansy asked the questions and MacLean filled in the blanks in her memory.

‘So Vernay told them where we stayed?’ said Tansy.

‘They tortured him,’ said MacLean, remembering the awful scene in Vernay’s apartment.

Tansy shook her head and said in exasperation, ‘It was all going so well. We were so happy, the three of us together and now…’ Her expression changed to one of deep sorrow. She asked sadly, ‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to get it back, Sean?’

‘If we want it enough,’ said MacLean softly. ‘We can do it.’

His words seemed to give Tansy strength. She started thinking positively. ‘We could rebuild the bungalow with the insurance money,’ she said and then almost immediately realised why that was not a good idea. ‘No,’ she said distantly, ‘It would have to be somewhere else. No matter, as long as the three of us are together.’

The mention of the three of them brought Carrie into the conversation again. Tansy started to probe MacLean about Carrie’s chances of a complete recovery. She asked how long the treatment would take. Would there be much pain? Would she miss much schooling? MacLean fended off the questions saying that there was no way he could answer them without seeing Carrie.

‘I’m being allowed to see her next Wednesday,’ said Tansy. ‘Will you come?’

‘Of course,’ said MacLean.

MacLean and Tansy spent the weekend together and separated on Monday morning. The fire at the bungalow had caused many of Tansy’s former friends to ‘rally round’ as they put it. She had told them that she was being discharged from hospital on Monday morning rather than the previous Friday so that she could steal the weekend with MacLean but, on Monday morning, she dutifully appeared on the hospital steps to be picked up by Nigel and Marjorie, friends from what seemed like a hundred years ago when she and Keith had been members of a local tennis club.

In the event, Nigel turned up on his own. He had taken the morning off work — he was a solicitor — to mount a grand stage production of ‘The Good Samaritan’. He leapt from the car to put an arm round Tansy. ‘What can I say Darling?’

Tansy was helped into the front of the car as if she had lost the ability to walk and Nigel kept up a constant stream of sympathy and mock anguish all the way home. Tansy dutifully said at intervals, ‘This really is most kind of you Nigel but she was on the verge of asking him to stop the car so that she could get out and run away.

Marjorie appeared at the door of the house and swept over Tansy like an incoming tide, repeating much of what her husband had said in the car. ‘Our house is your house, you know that my dear. And poor Carrie, you must be so worried about her. Out of your mind probably and who can blame you? You mustn’t worry about the insurance though, Nigel will deal with all that won’t you Nigel?’

Nigel agreed that he would.

Tansy noticed that at no time in the conversation was Dan Morrison’s name mentioned. Her ‘bit of rough’ had died in the flames as far as Nigel and Marjorie were concerned, something not even worth acknowledging. A social embarrassment had been cleared up for them and now Tansy would return to the fold. She’d soon be back at dinner parties and there were lots of eligible chaps to be asked along. Tansy knew that she should be grateful to her former friends for the trouble they had gone to but at that moment she hated them.

On Wednesday, Tansy drove out to Carrie’s hospital in Marjorie’s Mini which she insisted she borrow. MacLean took the bus and met her at the foot of the drive. Neither said very much as they walked up the long gravel path. Tansy knew that they were going to remove the dressings from Carrie’s face. MacLean surmised as much.

The spring sun was warm on their faces and there was a smell of blossom in the air. Tansy felt twinges of panic. She started to hope that they would never reach the entrance. She even invented a reason for delaying by stopping beside a bush and saying, ‘What a gorgeous scent.’

MacLean nodded and said, ‘spring is really here.’ He put his arm round Tansy’s shoulders knowing what she was going through.

They did not have long to wait before being shown into a small office where a bald man wearing a white coat sat behind a desk. Half framed spectacles sat on his nose and he was finishing some writing. The nurse closed the door behind them and the doctor looked up. ‘Ah, Mrs Nielsen,’ he said. He turned to look at MacLean. ‘And?’

‘I’m Carrie’s uncle,’ said MacLean.

‘Ah yes, Mr Nielsen being deceased.’

‘I’m Doctor Coulson, Carol’s consultant. Please take a seat.’

Tansy smiled deferentially. MacLean remained impassive.

‘Let me tell you what is going to happen. Carol has been sedated to permit painless removal of her dressings. The nurses are preparing her at the moment but I have to warn you that, from our preliminary findings, it seems certain that Carol will require a degree of remedial surgery.’

A lump grew in MacLean’s throat.

‘What about her eyes Doctor?’ asked Tansy.

‘Her eyes are undamaged; she can see perfectly well.

Tansy looked at MacLean and he gave her a reassuring smile. It was a time for clutching at straws.

The nurse who had shown them in earlier came into the room and said that everything was ready.