No Escape by Josephine Bell

been sent up to the ward.”
    â€œAlexandra?” cried Jane. “But I’ve just come down from there. It wasn’t there when I left.”
    â€œWhen would that be?”
    How long had she spent looking for Tim?
    â€œAbout fifteen minutes, I should think.”
    â€œAh. He’d have disposed of it when he went off, I should think. Say ten minutes ago. I think you may find it up there, miss.”
    â€œYou couldn’t ring them and find out, could you?”
    The porter smiled, his hand moving automatically to plug in the house telephone. After a few seconds he came back to Jane.
    â€œYes miss. It’s up there all right. I understand Sister isn’t too pleased.”
    â€œI bet she’s hopping mad. Thanks a lot,” Jane said, happily as she turned away.
    Back to Alexandra, she sighed. Another small basinful of Sheila’s woes and then home, a solitary, blessed solitary, late tea at her flat in front of the fire, toast and honey and a new novel from the Public Library. She found that Sister had gone off for her own tea but Staff Nurse gave her permission to take the big suitcase into the ward, just to convince the scatty girl in Bed 12 that it had not been stolen. As she staggered in with it she saw the cubicle curtains were closed again. She kept going, however, and pushing her way in heard Tim saying—” it’s for your own safety, Miss Burgess. You will do as I ask, won’t you? Say yes! Let me hear you say yes!”
    Then Jane was inside, Tim had sprung to his feet and Sheila who had been sitting upright, leaned forward with a flushed face and said, “Oh Jane, you angel! You found it. I was so afraid someone—” She broke off, turned to Timothy and went on, eagerly, “I’ve got to clear out! You understand, don’t you? I’m all set to leave— All my things— All that matters Jane’s been wonderful. So I’ll go home tomorrow. Dr Long. Thank you for all you’ve done, but I just have to go home.”
    Jane backed away, stammering apologies. She wanted to get out of the ward, more particularly to get away from the picture of Timothy leaning forward, one of Sheila’s hands between both of his gazing into her eyes and saying, “You will do as I ask, won’t you?” and Sheila gazing back, melting rapidly, on the very point of agreeing. She was furious with Tim; she was furious with herself for interrupting him.
    â€œDon’t go, Miss Wheelan!”
    It was an order, given in a voice of suppressed fury, quite equal to her own, Jane thought miserably. She made an effort to defend herself, however.
    â€œI understood that Sheila was to be discharged tomorrow and as she asked me to go to her room and bring her things here, I just did that. Was it wrong?”
    Tim shook his head, hopelessly.
    â€œNot really, I suppose. But actually since you came back with some of the luggage, Miss Burgess has been in such a disturbed condition—”
    Jane protested, but he went on, disregarding her, “So very much worse that we are now advising her to have further treatment—specialist treatment.”
    â€œYou know what he means, don’t you, Jane?” Sheila insisted on being heard. “The luny-bin—that awful shock treatment or something.”
    â€œI’m sure rest and a few talks with the doctor will do the trick,” Tim told her.
    â€œI can get that at home. My mother has a very good doctor. I’ve been to him myself sometimes. He’ll do for the talks and I’m going home for the rest. So what more do you want?”
    Her attitude and appearance had changed profoundly since Jane’s arrival. She was lively and confident where before she had been apathetic and fearful. While Tim considered that this was an added proof of her instability, he had to acknowledge that it gave him no grounds for pressing her to sign a form to admit her to a mental hospital as a voluntary