Patty opened her eyes to the new day, and remembering, despaired. For two pins she would have stayed where she was forever. But that wouldn’t do; she must keep going; at least it was Monday again and her duties were plain; there were no dreadful acres of empty time to fill: it was time to rise and get ready for work. She sat up and climbed out of bed, but as her feet touched the floor she was seized by a sudden feeling of quite awful nausea, and she sat rigid until it passed. Then gingerly she stood up and went into the bathroom.
She managed to wash and dress but shortly after putting the bread into the toaster she found the horrible sick sensation seizing her once more, and this time so violently that she ran into the bathroom and threw up. Oh Jesus, she thought, what is happening to me? It can’t be. It must be something I ate yesterday at Manly. It was the meat pie, that’s what it was. I knew I shouldn’t.
She felt quite dazed, here at Goode’s, with the second week of the sales at full throttle all around her. I should look at the swimming cossies in my lunch hour, she thought. Maybe I should get some new clothes, too, like Joy keeps saying. Splash out. But she felt so sick, so weak, that when her lunch hour came she could do no more than retire to the canteen.
Fay didn’t accompany her. “I’m going to change and then look over the sales things,” said she brightly. “I need some new clothes!”
Oh yes, thought Patty bitterly. Make hay while the sun shines. She felt dreadful, sitting in the canteen with a cup of tea and a salad sandwich from which she had taken only one bite.
“Off your food? That’s no good!” cried a sharp voice, and its owner sat down suddenly in the chair next to hers.
“Oh hello, Paula,” said Patty wanly.
“How’s the nightie?” asked Paula, with a vaguely suggestive smirk.
Patty tried to smile.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s really nice. I should have bought two.”
“Yes, I told you,” said Paula. “They’ve all gone now so you’re too late. Still, we’re getting new stock in a fortnight so you should pay us another visit, you might see something else as good.”
“Yes, I will,” said Patty.
She was desperate. Paula’s question, the conversation which followed, were terrible reminders of her situation and its prelude. But a brilliant light suddenly at this moment flashed on in her mind. She had never previously quite seen that the night of the black nightdress and Frank’s disappearance, the one event following so hard upon the other, might in fact be connected in some way.
A vast area of speculation was revealed but where she was to begin to speculate she did not know. She had never had to think in such a manner before and did not know how it was to be done; she knew only that the possibility of a connection was placed before her, and that if the connection were to be established, she might then know something about the reason for Frank’s disappearance. But all opportunity for further thought was snatched away by Paula who continued to chatter brightly until it was time for Patty to return to Ladies’ Cocktail. The burning desert of the long afternoon now stretched before her.
Shortly after three o’clock Lisa noticed a weatherbeaten-looking man hovering about on the edge of the Ladies’ Cocktail section and she took particular note of him for the three very good reasons that, one, it was excessively rare to see a man (other than Mr. Ryder) on this floor at all, and, two, that if one were to see a man (other than Mr. Ryder) here it would be a Rudi-ish sort of man, and not, three, someone who looked like one of the strange bipeds to be seen in the vicinity of the Hotel Australia during the week of the Sheep Show. I wonder if I should ask him what he wants, she thought. He must be lost.
Fay noticed the man at just this moment.
“Gee, look at that,” she said in a low murmur to Lisa. “He’s a long way from home!”
The two began to giggle and this sound alerted Miss Jacobs.
“Now, you two,” she said, “save your laughter until after hours. I can’t see what’s so funny about this section at the moment. Haven’t you got better things to do? There’s Patty doing all the putting-away. You see if you can’t help her while we’ve got a few moments to ourselves.”
The two young women turned away to do her bidding, but a customer approached as they did so and Fay remained at the counter to take her money. Lisa took a step towards the rail where Patty was replacing some frocks which had been tried on and found wanting, but at this instant the man, whom she had managed (intrigued as she mightily was) to keep in her sights all the while, began to come nearer. He seemed to be approaching Lisa herself—how odd!—perhaps he wanted help after all; perhaps he wished to buy a frock for his wife and wanted advice for which he had only now found the courage to ask. As Lisa reached the rail of frocks, Patty, who had had her back towards both Lisa and the strange weatherbeaten man, turned around.
No sooner had she done so—it was true that she was looking very pale, Lisa had noticed it herself—than she suddenly fell in a heap on the floor, with a ghastly thud which itself made Lisa start with a shock.
“Oh!” cried the girl. “She’s fainted!”
And she felt so shocked that she even began to tremble. Oh, what was she to do? There was Patty, stretched out on the floor in her black frock, as white as a sheet, with the cocktail frocks which had been draped over her arm all tumbled around and about her: and the remarkable thing was that all the while the ridiculous man was still standing nearby, doing nothing, and staring down at Patty.
“She’s fainted,” said Lisa to the man. “I’m just going to get some help.”
“I know,” said the man. “She’s my wife.”
Lisa stared at him. Good heavens, what on earth was going on?
“Well, I’ll just get Miss Jacobs,” she said. “She’ll know what to do.”
She went to fetch Miss Jacobs.
“Mrs. Williams has fainted,” she said. Miss Jacobs threw up her hands.
“Go and tell Mr. Ryder,” she said. “He’ll telephone up for the nurse.”
She hurried over to inspect her colleague. Miss Jacobs now saw the strange man.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said with some sarcasm and much dignity, “I must attend to this lady who has fainted.”
“I know,” said Frank, again. “She’s my wife.”
“Gracious me,” said Miss Jacobs. “Well, it’s fortunate you’re here then. Even if you ought not to be. She’ll need someone to take her home. The nurse is on her way. Has she been ill lately?”
“I don’t know,” said Frank. “I’ve been away.”
“Oh, have you?” said Miss Jacobs. “I see.” She pursed her lips.
Magda now appeared, like a crested eagle in a barnyard; she had viewed the greater part of the scene so far.
“I have some sal volatile,” she cried. “There is nothing like it!”
She flourished a phial. Miss Jacobs had managed to collect and hang up the fallen cocktail frocks and to loosen Patty’s clothing so far as was consistent with decency, and by supporting her with one arm around her shoulders, to raise her up to a half-sitting position. Magda held the sal volatile under Patty’s nose, and Patty opened her eyes and sat up with a great start.
The first sight which met her awakened gaze was Frank, and she stared at him for one abominable instant. Then she spoke.
“Go to hell,” she said.
“Now, you’ve had a shock,” said Miss Jacobs. “You just be quiet. The nurse is coming. You’re not well.”
She turned to Frank.
“Perhaps you’d better wait somewhere out of the way,” she said. “Go out onto the fire stairs, we’ll send for you when she can be taken home.”
“Tell him to go to hell,” said Patty.
“Now, now,” said Miss Jacobs.
Frank at last opened his mouth and spoke. “I’ve been to hell,” he said. “I’ve just come back. But I didn’t have me key. I just came here to get the front door key from you, that’s all.”
“Oh God,” said Patty. “Oh Jesus. I should have known.” And she began to cry.
The nurse now arrived. “What’s all this?” she said. “Let me see the patient.” She began to take Patty’s pulse and to ask questions.
Frank lingered near the door to the fire stairs.
“She’d better go home then if her husband’s here,” said the nurse. “Now you mind you see your doctor tonight if you’re still feeling faint. Someone should go to the locker room with her while she changes.”
Lisa was assigned this unhappy task, and when she at last returned to Ladies’ Cocktail it was business as usual; Miss Cartright had helped to hold the fort and told her underlings that they could send for her again if they should find themselves too short-handed during Mrs. Williams’s absence.
“She’ll be here again in the morning with any luck,” she said. “It’s probably just the heat, and not eating a proper lunch. I always tell you girls but some of you won’t listen. Eat a proper lunch!”
She sailed away in a flutter of black and white stripes. This is not like Mrs. Williams, she thought. Fainting, on the second floor! It really won’t do. Still, that’s the sales for you: the end of the week can’t come too soon, I can tell you!