It wasn't the one she had nursed in. 'All soldiers, that was,' said Tuppence to herself. 'The surgical ward, I was on A and B rows.' She opened her eyelids and took another look round. She decided it was a hospital she had never seen before and that it had nothing to do with the nursing of surgical cases, military or otherwise.
'I wonder where this is,' said Tuppence. 'What place?' She tried to think of the name of some place. The only places she could think of were London and Southampton.
The ward sister now made her appearance at the bedside.
'Feeling a little better, I hope,' she said.
'I'm all right,' said Tuppence. 'What's the matter with me?'
'You hurt your head. I expect you fred it rather painful, don't you?'
'It aches,' said Tuppence. 'Where am I?'
'Market Basing Royal Hospital.' Tuppence considered this information. It meant nothing to her at all.
'An old clergyman,' she said.
'I beg your pardon?' 'Nothing particular. I ' 'We haven't been able to write your name on your diet sheet yet,' said the ward sister.
She held her Biro pen at the ready and looked inqu'uingly at Tuppence.
'My ame?' 'Yes,' said the sister. 'For the records,' she added helpfully.
Tuppence was silent, considering. Her name. What was her name? 'How silly,' said Tuppence to herself, 'I seem to have forgotten it. And yet I must have a name.' Suddenly a faint feeling of relief came to her. The elderly clergyman's face flashed suddenly across her mind and she said with derision, 'Of course. Prudence.' 'prudence?' 'That's fight,' said Tuppence.
'That's your Christian name. The surname?' 'Cowley. Co-w-l-ey.' 'Glad to get that straight,' said the sister, and moved away again with the air of one whose records were no longer worrying her.
Tuppence felt faintly pleased with herself. Prudence Cowley.
Prudence Cowley in the V.A.D. and her father was a clergyman at- at something vicarage and it was wartime and.
'Funny,' said Tuppence to herself, 'I seem m he getting this all wrong. It seems to me it all happened a long time ago.' She murmured to herself, 'Was it your poor child?' She wondered.
Was it she who had just Said that or was it somebody else said it to her?
The sister was back again.
'Your address,' she said, 'Miss - Miss Cowley, or is it Mrs CoWley? Did you ask about a child?' 'Was it your poor child? Did somebody say that to me or am I saying it to them?' 'I think I should sleep a little if I were you now, dear,' said the sister.
She went away and took the information she had obtained to the proper place.
',She seems to have come to herself, Doctor,' she remarked, 'and she says her name is Prudence Cowley. But she doesn't seem to remember her address. She said something about a child.'
'Oh well,' said the doctor, with his usual casual air, 'we'll give her another twenty4our hours or so. She's coming round from the concussion quite nicely.' II Tommy fumbled with his latchkey. Before he could use k the door came open and Albert stood in the open aperture.
'Well,' said Tommy, 'is she back?' Albert slowly shook his head.
'No word from her, no telephone message, no letters waiting - no telegrams?'
'Nothing I tell you, sir. Nothing whatever. And nothing from anyone else either. They're lying low - but they've got her. That's what I think. They've got her.'
'What the devil do you mean - they've got her?' said
Tommy. 'The things you read. Who've got her?' 'Well, you know what I mean. The gang.' 'What gang?'
'One of those gangs with flick knives maybe. Or an international one.'
'Stop talking rubbish,' said Tommy. 'D'you know what I think?'
Albert looked inquiringly at him.
'I think it's extremely inconsiderate'of her not to send us word of some kind,' said Tommy.
'Oh,' said Albert, 'well, I see what you mean. I suppose you could put it that way. If it makes you happier,' he added rather urortunsly. He removed the parcel from Tommy's arms. 'I see you brought that picture.bacl.,' he.said: ,.
'Yes, I've brought the bloody picture bac, sma fat lot of use it's been.'
'You haven't learnt anything from it?'
'That's not quite true,' said Tommy. 'I have learnt some-thing from it but whether what I've learned is going to be any use to me I don't know.' He added, 'Dr Murray didn't ring up, I suppose, or Miss Packard from Svnny Ridge Nursing Home?
Nothing like that?'
'Nobody's rung up except the greengrocer to say he's got some nice anbergines. He knows the missus is fond of aubergines. He always lets her know. But I told him she wash available just now.' He added, 'I've got a chicken for your
'It's exaordinary that you can never think of anything but chickens,' said Tommy, unkindly.
'It's what they call apoussinthis time,' said Albert. 'Skinny,' he added.
'It'll do,' said Tommy.
The telephone rang. Tommy was out of his seat and had rushed to it in a moment.