as to his whereabouts, but of course some more information would be useful.”
“Robert. Nice boy at heart, I suppose, but he can be a handful. I think it was all high jinks really, him running off. And his father has a very strong thumb, if you know what I mean.” She pressed her thumb into the center of her forehead, to illustrate her point that Mr. Martin was a firm disciplinarian. “I tell you, she hasn’t had a sparkle in her eye since that boy left.” The nurse raised her thumb towards the ceiling.
“You mean his mother, I take it.”
“Yes, though she’s been like that since he was a nipper, so I was told. And only young, she was, when she had him.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Gets terrible heads. Has to be in the dark, and can’t have strange smells in the room, or loud noises—one squeal out of the boy could start her off when she was younger. And she gets sick with it, can’t keep a thing down.”
“Does she have times of respite from this illness?”
The nurse shrugged. “She does sometimes, but I can’t take her out, because it would start her off again.”
“Oh, poor woman. I am deeply sorry for her. Those sort of headaches can be debilitating. How is she treated?”
“It’s been one doctor after another. I know that, like I said, light from the window and loud noises can start her off again, and so can smells—she can’t abide scent, won’t have it in the room. And apparently, she used to love her Shalimar, once upon a time.”
“And she lies there all day?”
“She has powders, to make her sleep.”
“What a terrible life. And does she see much of her husband, when he’s home?”
“He comes up for a visit, when he’s home from his office, and on Sundays he goes out, Saturday nights, too. He has a club, and he has his shooting parties. Always took the boy with him, so he wasn’t able to see his mother much either, what with school. And then he went to boarding school. It was just before the summer holidays that he went missing, as you know.”
“Yes, I know—but Mr. Martin didn’t call the police, and didn’t even come to me immediately.”
“I imagine he thought Robert would come home.”
“He’d absconded before then?”
Nurse Wilkins nodded. “A day or two here and there. Probably off with his friends, shooting apples.”
“Shooting apples? Did he own a gun?”
“I don’t know how he was with a gun, but he was a bit of a Robin Hood with a bow and arrow. You had to watch yourself, if you were out in the garden; never knew when one of them arrows might go whistling past your ear.” The nurse smiled. “But even though he’s tested me beyond measure at times, I’d like to think Robert is a good one, at heart. He loves his mother, so I’m surprised he left, in that regard.”
“Did anything else happen? Did he have an argument with his father? Or do you think he was having trouble at school?”
Nurse Wilkins shrugged. “He and his father weren’t exactly best friends—well, you don’t expect them to be, do you? After all, one’s the father and one’s the son, so they’re not pally, though I thought Mr. Martin tried to do his best with the boy, you know, keep him in line, but at the same time not be brutal with it.” She was thoughtful. “Mind you, it wasn’t long after that Indian woman stopped coming that he went off.”
“Indian woman? What Indian woman?”
“Lovely girl, Miss Pramal. Started coming in to help the maid, just a day or two each week—not for long, mind. Anyway, one day she came into the room to clean, and asked me what was wrong with Mrs. Martin, and I told her and she said, ‘May I see her?’ Now, normally, I would have put a stop to that, no two ways about it. But it was the way she looked at her, really tender, as if she had a sympathy for the woman. So, I asked Mrs. Martin, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think she’d’ve cared either way. Miss Pramal goes up to her, takes her hand, and says she’s going to touch her on her temples.” Wilkins placed the tips of her fingers on either side of her head. “Just like this.”
“Did it have any effect?”
She nodded. “Her headache was gone in an hour. And Miss Pramal said she had something that would help.