That’s what we’ll do, Sally thought. We’ll talk about home. We’ll talk home squared or to the power of three. We’ll get it settled.
Naomi had by now heard the voices and risen from her table. Sally felt a gust of affection at the solemn, peaked, mature features.
I have leave, Sally told her stupidly. Naomi clasped her arms around Sally and Sally did the same in return. It was so much easier now.
Naomi led her by the elbow to a seat opposite her own place and then—overcome with the hilarity of the coincidence—bowed her head down onto Sally’s shoulder like a confiding schoolgirl.
Well, said Naomi when they had sat opposite each other. You obviously need building up—a tonic.
I was thinking the same about you.
Oh, everyone works themselves too hard at the Voluntary.
I’ve got a week’s pass, Sally told her. What about you?
Two days, said Naomi, waving at one of the Red Cross volunteers who served as waitresses at the hostel. A pity it’s so short.
I’m meeting up with Charlie Condon tomorrow. He’s going to show me the galleries.
That’s wonderful, Naomi said.
What about you?
Ian Kiernan’s coming tomorrow and we’re going to see our Committee of Clarity.
Sally had never heard of such a thing and shook her head.
I’m sorry. I presumed I’d told you about it. It’s the committee that’s overseeing our engagement.
Your engagement?
Yes, I told you in a letter.
I didn’t get it, complained Sally, though she knew she sounded rancorous—especially at the postal corps. Then of course the true force of the news struck her.
He’s someone worthwhile then? she asked, anxious that her grand sister might be eroded.
Naomi laughed. You know him, she said. You know the man he is.
Yes, Sally admitted. A sturdy sort of bloke all right.
And… despite its highfalutin name, this committee’s job is to make sure we’re… genuinely keen on each other.
Sally watched as Naomi laughed at her own use of slang. Naomi was very happy. How could she manage to be so simply happy with Kiernan and their engagement when she’d used the hypodermic that night? If they could talk about it, Naomi might be able to instruct her. Sally could not eat her soup when it came, though she inspected it at considerable length.
What’s the matter, Sal?
Do you ever think of our mother? Sally challenged her. I mean, think of her as more than the dead we see each day?
Of course. I forget for an hour. But she returns. I was with her when she went. Many would think that grief. But it was also a privilege.
Enough of that, Sally decided. You heard of Honora? she asked.
I did. And I think any of us could end like that, with a bit of bad luck.
But it was back to the main question. Will you tell your Committee of Clarity that you gave her the injection? Sally said. Or wouldn’t they understand?
She looked up now and saw what she thought was confusion on Naomi’s face.
And have you told Ian Kiernan about it? Sally asked.
No, said Naomi. Sally…
I’m going to have to come clean with Charlie… I can’t have him not knowing. That would poison us. I’ll take the blame for planning the business. No mention of you. Because I always intended the whole thing even if it was you who stepped in—purely out of generosity. I’ve never thanked you—I couldn’t manage it till now.
Naomi was doing a good act of mystification.
You’ve got nothing to be grateful for, Naomi said. My God, you should see how you look, Sal—like the starveling coming home. Please eat that. You’re scarecrow thin.
What does that matter? The thing is, I love you and I hate you for taking up the burden. For doing it.
Hold hard there, Sally. Doing what?
Sally lowered her voice. Killing her! Killing her. I know you found my little treasure of morphine. You knew what I meant to do. You took it on yourself to do it and you ground up or poured out what was left. That’s a reason I started behaving as if I couldn’t decide whether I should love you or hate you—be near you or stay clear.
Just wait a second, murmured Naomi. And by the way, the Canadians are staring at us a bit.
Do you care about that? asked Sally in a whisper—though a fierce one. And bile did rise now. Such a stupid small thing? You and I killed our mother, and you’re worried about bloody Canadians!
There was a demonic fury in Sally because all Naomi did was lower her face. No sudden rising from the table. None of the outrage Sally had foreseen and now wanted.
I did nothing, said Naomi calmly. She had taken Sally’s hand again. Our mother just died. That’s all. I don’t know why it was that night of all possible nights. But—pure and simple—she died.
That can’t be true. You took the weight of it off me.
No. I came on your secret supply amongst the linen—it was exactly where I’d hide such a thing. And I could have used it if I had your bravery. And your love—let’s not deny that. But she just died. And when I made my fire that morning, I ground in the morphine with the rest—with the rhubarb tonic and the bromide and every other bottle and useless cure.
At this claim Sally covered her face with her free hand. Naomi said with a sort of unanswerable emphasis, Listen to me. I told you the way she died and that I was there. I’ll tell you again. Mama died, pure and simple.
Sally began shuddering. It was like the shaking out of devils in camp meetings.
My God, I should have told you, Naomi admitted. I didn’t know how it weighed on you. I could tell you stories… a kid who collided with a tram… The thing is, they insist in certain cases we maintain life whatever the pain—as if that isn’t a sin and taking action is.
If their mother died—just expired of her own free right, the organism itself renouncing further pain—Sally was not an accomplice except by desire. That awareness—if Naomi could be trusted, of course—shrank the tumor. It did not excise it though.
Have you ever thought of doing something like that here in France? asked Naomi.
But these men are strangers.
One of your closest friends—I won’t say who—told me when I was at my lowest on the Archimedes that she solved a fatal hemorrhage on the operating table with a lethal chloroform dosage. It’s easier to do than with ether. I’ve often thought of doing something like that here. But amongst all the damaged boys we’re faced with, I’ve never had that certainty I had back then with that case involving the tram…
Further down the room the Canadians had got up from the table. They called a cheery good-night. They realized, of course, that something of moment had been argued between the sisters. They wanted to let them know it didn’t matter to them and also to reassure them falsely that it hadn’t been noticeable. When they left, the Durance sisters also got up and clung to each other. They grabbed each other’s shoulders with the pressure of crimes committed or projected and now confessed.
Later—when they were going upstairs themselves—Naomi helped Sally along and held her by the shoulder as if she were an invalid.
Now, Naomi ordered her, put your mind on the normal things. Go round town with Charlie Condon, have a meal, have a drink. Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?
No, Sally told her. She could think of nothing worse than fitting her new set of confusions and certainties into the one bed with her sister. They stopped in front of Sally’s door.
Sally said, I think I believe you.
Naomi took her by the chin. Have no doubt about it, she commanded in a lowered voice. There are only two choices, you know. Either die or live well. We live on behalf of thousands who don’t. Millions. So let’s not mope about it, eh?