An Indecent Obsession by Colleen McCullough Read Free Book Online Page A

told him it wasn’t his fault, that no one was perfect, everyone made a blue sometimes, the more depressed he became. Having nothing to fight against, he faltered, broke down, and stopped.
    In May of 1945 he was admitted to ward X. On his arrival he was weeping, so immersed in his despair that he neither knew nor cared where they put him. For several days he had been permitted to do as he pleased, and all he pleased to do was huddle inside himself, shake, weep, grieve. Then the person who had hovered greyly in the background began to intrude upon his misery, make an irritating nuisance of herself. She stuck herself onto him, bullied and even forced him to eat, refused to admit there was anything different or special about his plight, made him sit with the other patients when all he wanted to do was to shut himself inside his cubicle, gave him jobs to do, needled and poked him into talking, first about anything, then about himself, which he infinitely preferred.
    Returning awareness stirred sluggishly at first, then seemed to leap. Things not directly concerning himself impinged upon him; he began to see his fellow patients, and to notice his surroundings. He started to be interested in the phenomenon of ward X, and in Sister Honour Langtry.
    She had acquired a name and an identity within his mind. Not that he always liked her at first; she was too matter-of-fact and unimpressed by his uniqueness. But just as he had decided she was a typical army nurse, she began to thaw, to reveal a softness and a tenderness so alien to most of the experiences of the last few years that he would have drowned in it had she let him. She never, never did. Only when he deemed himself cured did he begin to understand how subtly she had chivvied him along.
    He had not needed to be shipped to Australia for further treatment. But he wasn’t shipped back to his unit, either. Apparently his CO preferred that he remain where he was; the division had been laid off active duty for the moment, so he wasn’t needed.
    In many ways his continued enforced rest in ward X delighted him, since it kept him near Sister Langtry, who these days treated him more as colleague than as patient, and with whom he was establishing the foundations of a relationship having nothing to do with ward X. But from the time when he considered himself cured and ready to resume duty, doubt had begun to gnaw at him. Why didn’t they want him back? He found the answer for himself— because he couldn’t be trusted any more, because if for some reason the war flared up again, he would not prove equal to command, more men would die.
    Though everyone denied it, Neil knew that was the real reason why after almost five months he still remained a prisoner of ward X. What he couldn’t yet understand was that his neurosis lingered on, showing itself chiefly as an extreme self-doubt. Had the war flared up again, he would probably have been returned on probation to duty, and would probably have done very well. Neil’s tragedy was that the war really had ended, and there was no more active duty.
    He leaned across to read the name on the papers lying on Sister Langtry’s desk, and grimaced. ‘A bit of a slap in the eye, isn’t it, getting him at this late date?’
    ‘A shock, yes. A slap in the eye remains to be seen. Though he doesn’t strike me as the troublesome type.’
    ‘There we agree. Very bland. He reminds me a bit of a cliché-ridden parrot.’
    Startled, she turned from the window to look at him; Neil wasn’t usually so obtuse about men, nor so critical.
    ‘ I think he’s quite a man,’ she said.
    An unexpected and inexplicable irritation rushed up and out, surprising him as much as it did her. ‘Why, Sister Langtry!’ he exclaimed. ‘Are you attracted, then? I wouldn’t have said he was your type at all!’
    Her frown became a laugh. ‘Not on me, Neil! It’s unworthy of you, my dear friend. You sound exactly like Luce, and that isn’t a compliment. Why be so hard