Page 146 of If Looks Could Kill
They sit there awhile. Tabitha helps Pearl get up and walk on shaky legs to the lavatory, then wash up and return to bed.
“You lost an awful lot of blood,” Tabitha tells her.
“I’ll try to be more careful next time,” Pearl says, “about where I leave it lying around.”
Once she’s back in bed, Tabitha hands her the plate, and Pearl takes a first bite.
“Have you had dinner?” Pearl asks.
Tabitha nods. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
Tabitha grasps Pearl’s hand. Her lips tremble, but she will not speak. The suffering must be acute if even Tabitha won’t talk.
“I’m grateful,” Tabitha says at length. “So grateful. You’re here. And I’m here.” She hesitates, but she can’t for long. “Itwasthe Ripper, wasn’t it? You went after him, didn’t you?”
Pearl smiles faintly. “How did you figure that out?” she asks. “I saw you watching for me, outside the house.”
Tabitha snorts. “And you didn’t come say hello?” When no answer follows, she adds, “What could youpossiblyhave been thinking?”
“Humph,” Pearl says. “That’s why I didn’t come say hello. Because I didn’t want to have that conversation.”
“Well, you’re going to have it now,” Tabitha declares.
“I look forward to it,” Pearl tells her. “But can we do it when I’m a bit stronger?”
It’s Tabitha’s turn to humph. “Fine.”
“We both made it out alive,” Pearl says. “Thank God.”
“Thank God,” echoes Tabitha. “You know, I try to pray.” Her voice falters. “I try to give thanks. But the fear—I know it’s all over, and oh, thank God, but the fear, still, is more than I can bear.”
“It won’t always feel that way,” Pearl says gently. “Time will help.”
Half of the food is all Pearl can manage, but Tabitha seems satisfied. She sets the plate aside and plumps up Pearl’s pillow.
“You missed your calling in the Salvation Army,” notes Pearl. “You should be a nurse.”
“I don’t know about that,” says Tabitha, “but you’re right about me and the Army.”
“No,” Pearl says. “That was just a joke. You were wonderful at it.”
Tabitha studies her expression in bewilderment. “You were the golden girl. The golden singer. The faithful one. You sold moreWar Crys than the rest of the corps combined.”
Pearl waves this away. “Who cares about the sillyWar Cry?” She smiles at Tabitha’s shock. “You were good with the people. You saw them and talked to them and tried to help them.”
Tabitha looks down. “I wanted to,” she says, “but it never felt like we did much good.”
The next time Pearl wakes, evening is fully dark, and a shaded lamp gives dim light to the room.
“Tabitha,” she says, “what can you tell me about what happened last night?”
Her roommate stares at her.
“I mean,” she says, “after I, er, passed out.”
“Oh,” Tabitha says. “Paddy carried you here to St. Vincent’s in his arms.”
