It was during those first days that, in spite of what was happening in the town, my mind was completely diverted from the uncertainty which hung over us all by the events at Riebeeck House.

A messenger came from Mrs. Prost. She was sorry to bother me at such a time when we were all so worried, but Mrs. Lestrange was very ill and she was asking for me. Could I come to the house?

I went at once.

Mrs. Prost greeted me eagerly. “She’s in a terrible way,” she said. “I’ve sent for the doctor, but he’s not there. I expect he’s at the hospital. I thought I’d better wait a bit … things being as they are. I don’t know … she seems to me to have lost her senses.”

“Take me up to her.”

“Yes … of course. I thought I’d better warn you.”

In spite of the warning I was deeply shocked. I hardly recognised Myra. Her eyes were wild, her pupils dilated. She stared up when she saw me.

“Who are you?” she said. And then: “Oh yes … yes. It’s Diana. Diana, send her away … send her away.”

I looked at Mrs. Prost who nodded her head towards the window. Myra was staring straight at it.

“She sees something there,” whispered Mrs. Prost.

I said: “It’s all right, Myra. There is no one here except Mrs. Prost and me.”

“Stay,” she begged. “Don’t go. Or … she’ll come back.”

I went to the bed and put my arm round her.

“You’ll stay with me?” she pleaded.

“I will. Of course I’ll stay.”

She lay back against me and closed her eyes. She was murmuring something which I could not hear.

Mrs. Prost looked at me. “I’ll leave you with her. I’ll send for the doctor again. Let me know if you want me.”

She went out.

Myra lay still, her eyes closed. She was breathing heavily.

She opened her eyes suddenly. “Diana,” she said.

“I’m here. I’m going to stay, Myra. As long as you want me, I’ll stay.”

That seemed to please her. She took my hand and gripped it.

“She was there,” she murmured. “She kept looking at me. She beckoned.”

“Who was there?”

“Margarete,” she said.

“She’s dead.”

“I know. She came back.”

“It must have been someone else you saw.”

“No. It was Margarete. She was jealous, you see. She had lost him. He was mine now. She couldn’t bear it. She wanted me to die.”

“Margarete is dead, Myra. And you are here.”

“But I am going to die.”

“Of course you are not.”

“Who’ll stop me?”

“I shall,” I said. “I’m going to look after you.”

“Roger looked after me. He was so good … so kind. I wasn’t good enough for him, but he never showed it. I was always afraid …”

I said: “I know.”

“He wanted me to be well. He said: ‘Take your tonic. Make sure you take it. It’ll do you good.’ And I did. I didn’t miss …”

Her eyes went to the little table at the side of the bed. The bottle was there. It was about half full.

“So you have been taking it regularly?”

“I promised him I would.”

“He asked me to impress on you the need to take it regularly while he was away.”

“He cares for me. He really does. It shows …”

“Well then, Myra, you are a lucky woman. And you must get better.”

“I try. I do take my tonic … just the same as though he were here.”

“I’m sure you do. Myra, suppose you try to sleep a little.”

“If I sleep you’ll go away … and if you go away she’ll come back.”

“I shall not go away and she will not come back. Myra, she isn’t here. She’s something you’ve dreamed about and she doesn’t exist except in your imagination.”

She shook her head and I saw a tear seep out of her closed eyes.

“Try to sleep,” I said.

“Promise to stay.”

“I will. I shall be here when you wake.”

She smiled and I was surprised that she was soon asleep.

I studied her face. It was pale and drawn. She was very different from the young woman I had first seen in Lakemere. True, she had been reserved, uncertain, overawed by her authoritative mother, but how different from the poor haunted creature in this bed.

She was gripping my hand and I was getting a pins and needles sensation in it; I managed to release it without waking her.

I went to the window and looked out. How peaceful it seemed. It looked just as it had when I had first seen it. It was hard to believe there was so much change all around us.

What would happen to us within the next few months? I wondered. I thought of the great sieges of the past which I had heard of. The Siege of Orleans, when Joan of Arc had taken the city and brought it back to the French, putting new heart into them; the Siege of Paris which was not so very long ago. What was it like living under siege? Food grew short, of course. There would be no means of getting new supplies. People died of hunger. I had heard that some of them had been reduced to eating dogs and rats. The thought was nauseating. This was different. We were being besieged by a handful of commandos … guerrilla troops, not trained for fighting … farmers, most of them. They could not last long against the trained British Army. We should be relieved very soon.

And Myra. Poor Myra. She had been happy. She had married a most attractive man; she had come to a new country; and now she was in this state. She had not believed that such happiness as she envisaged with Roger Lestrange could ever have been hers. She had not thought herself worthy of him. Her mother had made her feel her inferiority. Poor Myra, who was accepted because she was an Ellington … and because she had a fortune of her own.

I went back to the bed and looked down on her sleeping face.

A light tap on the door startled me. I moved too quickly and in doing so overturned the small bedside table. I tried to grasp the bottle, but it was too late. Myra’s tonic was running over the carpet surrounded by specks of glass.

Mrs. Prost came into the room.

“Look what’s happened,” I said.

“Oh dear. I’ll send someone to clear it up. It’s Mrs. Lestrange’s tonic, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. We shall have to get some more. I thought perhaps you’d brought the doctor.”

“There’s no hope of getting him just yet. The doctors are so busy at the hospital. A little party of men managed to get through last night and some of them are badly wounded. We’ll try again later. How is she?”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Poor lady.” Mrs. Prost shook her head.

“I’m terribly sorry about the mess,” I said. “It was careless of me. And then there’s the tonic …”

“Never mind. It’s just the tonic. The doctor will give her some more though … when we get hold of him.”

“I hope she’ll be all right without it for a little while.”

“Oh, it won’t be for long. I daresay we’ll be able to get that. Even if he can’t come … he can give her that. These are terrible times. You’ll be staying here for a while, I expect, Miss Grey.”

“I promised I would. Could you send someone over to the schoolhouse to explain to Miss Milne that I may be here for a few days?”

“I’ll certainly do that and I’ll send someone up to clear that mess. I don’t like broken glass lying about.”

“I do hope she’ll be able to get some more soon.”

“That’ll be all right, I’m sure. We’ll do our best anyway. Can’t do more than that.”

I stayed with Myra all through the day. She slept a great deal of the time, and as soon as she opened her eyes she looked for me. I saw the relief when she was assured that I was still there.

“I feel safe,” she said. “She can’t do anything when you’re there … because you can’t see her and you don’t believe she’s there, do you? She’s only there in my mind. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s it.”

“Then please stay.”

“I have promised I will.”

“All night?”

“Yes. I shall be here. I have sent a note to Lilias.”

That comforted her.

I spent the night in her room, sitting in a chair by the bed, dozing fitfully. Her looks had alarmed me so much that I wondered whether she would live through the night.

I was relieved when the dawn came and I looked at her in the clear morning light.

She was breathing more easily and she seemed more peaceful.

Mrs. Prost brought me coffee and bread and butter.

“Not very much,” she apologised. “But we have to go carefully. I don’t know what things are coming to. How is she?”

“She’s had a quiet night.”

“She’s better when you’re here. I’ll send something up for her if she wants it. She’s been turning away from food. A nice bit of porridge would be good for her. There are some oats left. Goodness knows when we’ll get the next.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes and we’ll see if we can get her to eat something.”

“And I’ll send someone to see if we can get hold of that doctor. She’ll need her medicine.”

“Oh yes. It was careless of me.”

“Accidents will happen. Well, let me know when she wakes.”

She left me. The coffee and food tasted good. I thought: we are beginning to appreciate food now that we realise we may not have it for much longer.

It was about ten o’clock when Myra awoke. I had determined to be there when she did and I was glad, for her eyes alighted on me immediately, and she said: “Oh, Diana. I’m so glad you are here.”

“How are you? You’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“Is it morning then?”

“Yes, ten o’clock.”

“I’ve slept all through the night!”

“That’s rare, is it?”

“I usually wake and see things …”

“Well, you didn’t last night. I’ve been here all the time.”

“What? Sitting there?”

“It was nothing. The armchair is very comfortable. I dozed for hours. I just wanted to be here if you awakened.”

“Oh, Diana, I am lucky to have such a friend.”

“I have a confession to make. I knocked over your tonic. I’m afraid I’ve spilt the lot. It made such a mess on the floor. Be careful where you tread. They’ve taken it up, but little splinters of glass can be dangerous.”

“The tonic!” she said. “I was supposed to take it last night.”

“I hope we shall be able to get hold of the doctor today. We have tried already, but apparently the doctors are all in the hospital. I hope you aren’t going to miss the tonic too much.”

“Roger made me promise to take it.”

“I know. He had great faith in it. But don’t worry. I daresay the doctor will be here today and then we shall get some more.”

During the day she seemed a little better. She was talking quite reasonably and there were no more hallucinations.

I stayed with her all during the day and the doctor did not come. Mrs. Prost suggested that on the following night I should use the room immediately next to hers so that if she needed me in the night all she had to do was knock.

“You can’t have two nights sitting in a chair,” she added.

To my surprise Myra agreed with this.

The room I slept in, I realised, was the one Roger used. It was not quite so large as the one he had shared with Myra and which she now occupied alone. The bed was comfortable and there was a bureau by the window. I did not sleep very well. I was waiting for a tap on the wall.

I was glad when the morning came. I went immediately to Myra’s room. She was sleeping peacefully; the stick with which she was going to tap on the wall was in the same position as I had left it last night.

During the morning she seemed almost like her old self; I was delighted. And in the afternoon the doctor called. Mrs. Prost and I were with Myra while he examined her.

Afterwards he sat in the drawing room and talked to us both.

He was full of apologies for not having come earlier.

“There is chaos in the hospital,” he said. “People are still creeping through the enemy’s lines … if you can call them lines. It can’t be much longer, I’m sure. Now, for the time being, there is nothing to worry about with Mrs. Lestrange. I don’t know what happened to her. But she is going to be all right. She’s weak … but her heart’s all right and so are her lungs. Well, everything is. Might have been poisoned by some insect or other. There are some venomous ones here, as you know, Mrs. Prost … and they like a bit of new blood. They go for the newcomer. And I think some of the old-timers become immune. She needs building up.”