Page 15 of Desert Barbarian

A stir at the door heralded the doctor. He looked at them all impersonally. 'What happened?' As he spoke he was already beginning to examine James, and he cut short Stonor's curt explanation with a nod. 'Right, every­one out of the room now. Where the hell is that ambu­lance?'

The next moment, it seemed, the ambulancemen were there, carrying James past on a stretcher, his face covered by an oxygen mask, while the doctor walked beside him.

'I must go with him,' Marie cried, hurrying after them.

Clare stood staring after her, her white face drawn. Stonor laid a hand on her arm and she looked round at him.

'I'll drive you to the hospital,' he said gently. She nodded, silent and tearless, yet visibly on the point of tears.

Then Stonor moved fast, catching up with Marie, his hand descending on her arm. She looked round at him in anger and shock.

'You can't go in the ambulance,' he said.

'Let me go! Who do you think you are?' She flung him off with a furious gesture.

He caught hold of her again, with renewed force, his fingers biting into her wrist. The dark eyes were flintlike.

'You can't go in the ambulance,' he repeated.

'Who says I can't? You?' Her voice was contemptu­ous.

'Yes,' he said. The simple monosyllable held her, her eyes fixed angrily on his.

'I have a right to be with him. He's my father.' Her voice had lost some of its certainty.

'I'll drive you and your mother to the hospital in my car,' he said.

'Don't bother,' she snapped. 'I'll take a taxi.'

He ignored the childish retort, turning towards Clare, his hand still holding Marie's wrist. 'My car is in the car park below. Would you like to get a coat from your room?' !

She silently shook her head. 'Let's go now, quickly,' she said, after a moment.

'Look after your mother,' said Stonor, turning to Marie, his dark eyes suddenly stern. 'She's very upset.'

Marie looked at Clare with wide, incredulous, critical eyes. Her mother had shown no tenderness towards James Brinton for years, yet Stonor seemed to be im­plying that at this hour of danger for him, her father was more to her mother than to Marie. Then she realised that Stonor could not know that her parents had been div­orced. She looked at him scornfully.

'They were divorced ten years ago,' she murmured in an icy undertone, turning away so that her mother should not hear. 'Dad means nothing to her.'

Stonor looked down into her pale face. 'I know about the divorce,' he said coolly. 'Take a look at your mother, a good look. She's in a state of shock far worse than yours. I don't know what she feels about your father, but I do know she needs help.'

Clare was leaning against the wall in an attitude of dispirited patience, just out of earshot, her eyes on the floor, her lips trembling and bloodless. Beneath the care­ful make-up her face was deadly white. She seemed to have aged ten years in the last quarter of an hour.

Marie stared at her, then her face slowly flushed. She looked at Stonor with dislike.

'You see?' he demanded.

'Yes,' she said, 'I see.' At that moment she hated him for having realised something to which she had been blind. She moved towards her mother and put her arm gently around her.

'Come on, Clare, we're going to the hospital.' Her voice was soft as she urged her mother along the corridor towards the lift down to the underground car park. Clare looked at her dumbly, her blue eyes like bottomless wells of pain.

'He's going to die,' she whispered. 'James is going to die. What will I do?'

Over her head Marie met Stonor's cold eyes. She hug­ged her mother and murmured comfortingly, 'No, he's strong. He isn't going to die…'

Clare shook her head. 'I heard you say I'd killed him… you said it when he collapsed…'

'Not you, Clare,' said Marie, aghast. 'I didn't mean you…'

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