Authors: Frederic Lindsay
The
room
was
full.
If
Maitland
came
to
the
door,
he
wouldn't
see
her,
wouldn't
be
able
to
imagine
that
she
was
here.
He
would
look
in
and
see
the
crowd
and
the
smoke
and
say
to
himself,
Lucy
wouldn't
sit
in
there.
And
go
away.
He
had
already
gone
away.
She
pushed
between
a
man
and
woman,
pushed
against
another
man,
to
get
through,
to
get
to
the
door,
not
caring
because
she
felt
so
desolate,
as
if
her
heart
was
breaking.
'We
met
in
the
car-park,'
Maitland
said.
That
was
later;
the
first
thing
he
said
was,
'Hold
on!
What's
the
hurry?'
and
held
her
by
the
shoulders
and
then
smoothed
down
her
hair
with
both
his
hands.
'Where's
the
fire?'
he
said
and
she
thought,
knowing
how
much
he
hated
the
smell,
that
he
would
put
his
hands
cupped
beside
his
face
and
breathe
from
them
the
acrid
staleness
of
smoke.
Janet's
red
hair
was
like
fire.
That
colour
of
hair,
you
could
warm
your
hands
at
it,
an
aunt
had
said.
The
sheepskin
hung
open
soft
and
pliable,
nothing
but
the
best
for
Janet,
the
brown
fur
nestled
around
her
face.
She
looked
young
and
happy.
'Everyone
in
the
village
sends
their
love,'
she
said.
'Ewen is
away
on
business,
but
Maitland
was
good
enough
to
bring
me.’
Until
morning,
Lucy
lay
trying
to
remember
whether Janet
could
have
said
that
before
Maitland
claimed
they
had
met
in
the
car-park
outside.
It
mattered
since
it
was
the
one
who
had
spoken
second
who
didn't
care,
or
wanted
her
to
know.
Chapter 16
'Doctor
Macleod,'
the
Lewisman
said.
Lucy
put
her
hands
on
the
edge
of
the
low
wall
and
leaned
forward.
'I
heard
one
of
the
doctors
calling
her
Anne.’
'Dr
Anne
Macleod.’
Among
the
people
below,
the
family
groups
and
the
couples,
a
woman
wearing
a
yellow
hat
was
walking
by
herself.
The
weather
was
fine
again,
there
was
no
wind
and
the
sun
shone
out
of
a
clear
sky.
The
brightness
was
deceptive
though;
it
was
a
February
sun
and
the
stone
under
her
hands
was
cold.
Circling
from
one
path
to
another,
turning,
coming back,
the
yellow
hat
drifted
against
the
current
of
patients
and
visitors
like
a
stick
caught
in
the
backthraws
of
a
stream.
Perhaps
Yellow
Hat's
husband
was
too
ill
to
be
visited.
And
she
couldn't
bear
to
go
home
but
having
come
would
stay
all
the
visiting
hour
to
feel
nearer
to
him.
Or
perhaps
he
didn't
know
she
was
here.
Perhaps
he
was
one
of
those
men
walking
with
a
woman,
and
his
wife
had
to
move
against
the
crowd
so
that
she
would
not
lose
sight
of
them,
arms
linked,
talking
together.
A
laugh
leapt
up
from
the
murmuring
crowd
and
found
its
mark
on
the
roof
four
storeys
above.
'They're
not
laughing
at
you,'
the
Lewisman
said.
The
door
on
the
little
hut
shape
lay
open.
He
hadn't
even
bothered
to
close
it
behind
them.
'I
don't
suppose
we
should
be
here.’
He
stared
at
her
out
of
blank
dark
eyes.
'You're
not
a
patient
of
hers.
I
am.’
'Yes,
she
told
me.’
'Dr
Macleod
talks
to
you
about
me?'
'No,
of
course
not.’
'You
must
talk
about
something.’
'I
was
disappointed
because
my
husband
hadn't
been
able
to
visit.
She
spared
me
a
little
time.
It
was
kind
of
her.’
'He
isn't
here
today
either.’
'I
wasn't
expecting
him
today.’
'Why
were
you
waiting
in
the
visitors'
room
then?'
She
turned
her
back
on
him
and
began
to
walk
round
the
roof,
keeping
back
from
the
wall
so
that
no
one
looking
up
from
below
might
see
her.
The
hour
had
been
almost
half
over
before
the
nurse
came
in,
saying
loudly
so
that
anyone
could
hear,
'Your
husband
won't
be
able
to
come
today.
Dr
Cadell
will
explain
all
about
it
when
he
sees
you.’
She
had
sat
not
taking
it
in,
then
run
out
into
the
corridor
after
the
girl
to
ask,
'When
have
I
to
see
Dr
Cadell?'
'When
do
you
usually
see
him?
In
the
morning?
Well,
then,
I
expect.’
'But
you
can't
mean
wait
till
tomorrow?'
'He
isn't
in
today,'
the
girl
said,
with
an
air
of
explaining
the
obvious.
It
had
been
just
after
that
she
realised
the
Lewisman
had
followed
her
out
of
the
room.
'I
have
a
place
I
go
when
I
want
to
be
quiet,'
he
had
said.
The
circuit
of
the
roof
completed,
she
found
her
way
blocked
by
an
extension
that
ran
from
the
back
of
the
hut
shaped
building
to
the
outer
wall.
Swinging
round,
she
almost
ran
into
the
Lewisman
close
on
her
heels.
There
was
a
sudden
bang
as
the
wind
caught
the
door
they
had
left
open
and
slammed
it
shut.
'Never
mind
me,'
she
said.
'What
were
you
waiting
for?
Were
you
expecting
a
visitor
to
come
to
see
you?
No
one
did.’
'Doctor
Macleod
told
you
no
one
comes
to
see
me?
I thought
better
of
her.’
'That's
not
what
I
said.
I
said
no
one
came
today.’
He
wasn't
tall,
no
taller
than
she
was,
but
very
broad.
Wearing
only
thin
summer
trousers
and
a
white
shirt
open
at
the
neck,
he
seemed
not
to
feel
how
cold
it
was
in
the
shadow
out
of
the
sun.
The
skin
of
his
face
was
smooth,
thick-fleshed,
and
by
contrast
against
the
whiteness
of
his
neck
the
mat
of
hair
on
his
chest
was
black
and
glossy
like
an
animal's
pelt.
'Let
me
pass.’
'What's
wrong
with
you?'