The Hunter's Moon (Timeless Classics Collection) by Ursula Bloom

Author:Ursula Bloom [Bloom, Ursula]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: 1940s fiction, literary fiction, classic women's fiction, classic humour, women's literary fiction, classic literary fiction, women's fiction classics, classic romance fiction, women's fiction
Publisher: Wyndham Books
Published: 2021-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

SPRINGTIME

Diana came to uncomfortably.

She had no idea what had happened, only that an eternity of time must have passed, and that she had travelled a long long way, then had returned again. There was a shadowy twilight about the place, wherever she was, and she did not know where, nor did it concern her. Then she heard a reassuring voice at her side, someone who told her not to be afraid or worried, for she was being seen after. It was just a voice. Nobody seemed to be attached to it, and in the confusion of illness and of shock, she did not question it. Then it faded out, in a blind blur of cloud, which at least was kind to her.

The next time she came out of the darkness, the light was brighter, she saw smudges in it, which she presumed were furniture, or people, it did not seem to matter which, and the voice spoke again, kindly reassuring.

‘You’re the luckiest girl there ever was. You’re all right.’

She heard herself gasp. She had now come to the stage when she could associate herself with sound; until now sounds had not been connected, but now they linked up. ‘Where … where am I?’ she asked.

Her voice sounded peculiarly unreal.

‘There was a little accident, and you were knocked unconscious, so they brought you here. It is a nursing home, the Home of St Lucille.’

It meant nothing, in fact it conveyed no set impression at all, because she had not reached the state when she could be impressed. She dozed off again, or thought she did. Maybe she drifted in and out of consciousness as though she were in a tube train, making a burring noise, and moving fast, stopping at times, but never long enough for her to know where she was. After what seemed to be an eternity, she woke again, and now she could outline a figure sitting beside her, and a few seconds later recognised it as being her mother.

‘Mummie?’

‘Now don’t move.’ It was the proper mother voice rapping out orders in an emergency. ‘Now don’t be silly, dear, or you’ll only hurt yourself, and that would be stupid. You are all right, darling. Oh, I am so thankful.’

‘What happened?’ and the words did not run as they should have done.

‘Not now.’ Mother was wise to that one. ‘Later on, and now you are to drink this. Just swallow it down, because it will help. You’ll be lots better later.’

‘I feel awful.’

‘Yes, of course, but that will pass. I promise you that it will pass, and you know your mother never breaks her word to you. Now doze off again.’

She did doze off, because there was something about the directing voice which demanded obedience. She got the idea that her mother had been here all the time, only she had not known it. She woke next morning, and drifted into consciousness very pleasantly, and those waves of understanding which came and went, flickering like clouds driven across the stormy face of an angry sky, had finally gone.

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