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 1 I arrive at The Grange
laremont Private Nursing Agency. This is Angela
speaking. Can I help you?'
'Angela? It's Anne ... Anne Harrison. Have you got the
information about that new job?'
'Oh, hello Anne. Wait a minute . . . Yes, here it is! We
need a private nurse for Mrs Kitty Blakemore.'
'Kitty Blakemore? The famous writer?'
'Yes,' said Angela. 'That's right. But, listen Anne, there
isn't really much wrong with her. Her heart is a little
weak, but she's not really ill. She's just a hypochondriac.'
'Oh, I see . . . one of those. What's the address?'
'The Grange, Kingsfield, Sussex,' said Angela. 'She

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wants you to be there tomorrow morning. Good luck!'

Early next morning, I drove to Kingsfield, a pretty little

village near the sea. The Grange was just outside the
village, at the end of a private road. It was a large grey
house.
I rang the bell and waited. No one answered, so I rang
it again. At last, the door opened and a young blonde girl
appeared. She wore a dark blue dress and a white apron.
She stood there and stared at me.

1

'Yes?' she said.
'I'm Nurse Harrison,' I said. 'The nursing agency sent
me.'
'Oh, yes. Come in.'
I followed her into the hall. A tall woman, about forty
years old, was coming down the stairs.
'Nurse Harrison?' she asked. We shook hands. 'I'm
Stella Vixon, the housekeeper.'
She was quite beautiful, but also a little strange and
frightening. She was very controlled and there was
something mysterious about her eyes.
'I hope you'll be happy here,' she said. 'Charlotte will
show you to your room now.' Then she smiled at me
strangely and walked away.
I followed Charlotte up the stairs and down a long
corridor. She pushed open a door at the end.
'Here's your room,' she said.
I put down my suitcase. I waited for her to go away
2 3
but she didn't. Instead, she sat down on my bed.
'Why do you want to work in this place?' she asked.
'It's just a job,' I replied.
'Mrs Blakemore's terrible,' said Charlotte. 'She's not
really sick. She just wants to lie in bed all day and give
us orders. I don't know why her husband likes her. He's
famous too, you know. He writes wonderful music. Have
you ever heard of him? No? Well, he's lucky. He's away
at the moment. He's working in Wales. Poor us! We
have to stay here with her!'
Charlotte was talking and I was brushing my hair and
looking at her in the mirror. She took something out of
her apron pocket and examined it. Suddenly, there was
a knock at the door and she jumped off the bed. She
quickly put the thing back in her pocket. Stella Vixon
came in.
'Are you still here, Charlotte?' she said. 'Hurry up and
go downstairs. Oh . . . and . . . Mrs Blakemore has lost
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one of her rings. It's not in her jewel box. Do you know
anything about it?'
'What do you mean? I'm not a thief!' cried Charlotte
angrily. 'I didn't take it!'
'All right,' said Miss Vixon. 'Calm down. I only said,
"Do you know anything about it?" Now hurry up and go
and do your work.'
Then she turned to me.
'If you're ready, Nurse Harrison, we'll go and see
Mrs Blakemore now.'
 'Now, Mrs Blakemore,' I said. 'A nice walk in the
2 Mrs Blakemore garden will make you feel a lot better.'
I followed Miss Vixon down the corridor. We went to 'Oh, don't be silly,' she said. 'I'm much too weak.'
another part of the house. She knocked on a heavy At that moment, Miss Vixon opened the door and
white door and we walked into Mrs Blakemore's said, 'Doctor Spencer is here.'
bedroom. The curtains were half closed and the room A short, fat man with glasses came in.
was quite dark. A woman about fifty-five years old was
sitting up in bed.
'Is that the new nurse?' she asked in a sharp voice.
I was surprised because she really did look very white
and sick. Some bottles of medicine and bottles of pills
were on the table beside the bed. The bed itself was
covered with books, letters and half-eaten chocolates.
'Yes. This is Nurse Harrison,' said the housekeeper.
'Good,' said Mrs Blakemore. 'Now you - get out and
leave us alone.'
I was astonished. But Miss Vixon said nothing. She
just smiled politely and left the room.

Mrs Blakemore stared at me.
'You look intelligent, Nurse,' she said. 'These
others . . . they're all useless. I'm not getting better, you
know. I'm getting worse.' A look of fear came into her
eyes. 'Do you know ... sometimes I think that someone
is poisoning me.'
'Nonsense!' I said. 'You just need some nice fresh air!'
I pulled back the curtains and opened the window.
Sunlight poured into the room. I took her temperature.
It was perfectly normal.
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'And how's my patient today?' he asked.
'I've got a very nasty taste in my mouth, Doctor,' she
complained. 'My legs hurt and I feel sick.'
'Ah!' he said. 'But you've got a nice new nurse! What
a lucky woman you are!'
'Listen, Doctor,' said Mrs Blakemore. 'I'm not getting
better. I was sick last night.'
'Oh, dear,' said Doctor Spencer. 'You've been eating
too many chocolates!' He smiled at her and then at me.
'I'm really sick, you fool!' said Mrs Blakemore angrily.

4 5
 'My dear lady,' said Doctor Spencer, gently. 'Please
don't worry. You worry too much.'
He looked at me. 'I'll just give her a little injection. It
will calm her down.'
I nodded.
'She has some strange ideas,' he said. 'She's a writer,
you see.'
The injection worked. Soon she was lying there
quietly. Then Doctor Spencer noticed the chocolates.
'Look! What did I say? More chocolates ... Dear ...
dear ...'
'Yes, my nephew always brings me chocolates,' said
Mrs Blakemore.
'Your nephew?'
'My nephew . . . our vicar . . . The Reverend John
Palmer,' she explained in a tired voice.
'Oh. So he's your nephew, is he? That's interesting,'
said the doctor. 'I didn't know that.'
'I've told you hundreds of times,' said Mrs Blakemore.
Tour memory isn't very good, is it? Or perhaps you just
want to annoy me.'
He laughed a little nervously and he left the room.
'Useless man!' she said. Then she smiled at me
strangely. 'I've got a little joke for Doctor Spencer.'
'Have you?' I said.
'Yes. I've told him that I'm going to leave him a lot of
money in my will. When I die. But it's not true. No, I'm
not going to leave him anything.' Mrs Blakemore
6 7
laughed weakly. 'He's a useless doctor.'
'Why don't you get a new one?' I asked.
'This isn't London, you know,' she said. 'This is the
country. There's only one other doctor near here and he
lives ten miles away. He's useless, too. The world is full
of useless people.' She closed her eyes. 'Anyway, I'm
leaving all my money to my nephew.'
'But what about your husband?'
'Edward?' Her face looked almost kind for a moment.
'Edward doesn't want my money. He has plenty of his
own. Even this house is his. Anyway, he doesn't really
care about money. He only thinks about music.'
She put another chocolate in her mouth and ate it.
Outside, in the corridor, I met Charlotte. She was
carrying Mrs Blakemore's lunch. She took it into the
bedroom and then she showed me the way to the
kitchen. Here we all ate in silence until Bernard, the
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cook, suddenly put down his knife and fork.
'What do you think of her, then?' he asked me.
'Mrs Blakemore? Oh, she seems all right,' I replied.
'All right?' he said. 'She's rude, selfish and mean. Do
you know, she's got lots of money ... loads of it. But she
always makes us use the last little bit of everything.
The last bit of milk, the last bit of bread.'
'Well, perhaps she doesn't like to waste anything,' I
said.
There was silence again.
 'Mrs Blakemore thinks that someone is poisoning
her,' I said.
Bernard laughed. 'Really?' he said. 'I'm sure that we
would all like to poison her, if we could. I would do it if
I could think of a good way.'
Miss Vixon's face went white. 'Bernard!'
'Well, it's true, isn't it?' he said. 'You don't like her
either, do you?'
Miss Vixon didn't answer. Bernard went to get the
ice-cream from the fridge. He walked with some
difficulty. I saw that he had something wrong with his left
leg. 3 A nasty taste
Suddenly Charlotte said to me, 'That's a nice ring you
have. It's a diamond, isn't it?'
'Yes,' I said. (At last the conversation had changed!)
A fter lunch, I visited my patient. She was asleep. The
plate was by the bed. She hadn't eaten very much.
'Mmm . . . ' I thought. 'She doesn't need all these
'I'm getting married next year. My boyfriend's name's bottles of medicine and pills. She just needs some
David and he's a sailor. He's going to be away at sea for vitamin tonic.' I decided to walk into the village and buy
the next six months.' some for her.

'Oh, I'd like to get married too,' Charlotte said. 'I want
to marry a rich man. Then I can have a big house like
this and a maid.' She laughed. 'Who knows . . . perhaps
if Mrs Blakemore dies, Mr Blakemore will marry me!
He's a bit old . . . but he's famous and he is rich!'
'If that's a joke, Charlotte, it's not very funny,' said
Miss Vixon.
Bernard laughed again.
'Yes, Charlotte. Keep your mouth shut. Mr Blakemore
would never want to marry a silly little girl like you.'
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It was a beautiful afternoon and the village looked
very pretty. As I passed the church, I remembered that
the vicar was Mrs Blakemore's nephew. So I went inside
to have a look. It was a lovely old building, but it was in
a terrible condition. Some of the coloured glass in the
windows was broken and there were holes in the roof.
There was only one shop in Kingsfield. The woman who
owned it was busy. She was talking to a thin man in a
black suit.

8 9
 'Oh dear, Vicar,' she said. 'It's going to cost a lot of
money to mend that roof.'
'Don't worry, Mrs Owen,' he said. 'We'll get the money.'
Then she noticed me . . . a stranger. Her smile
disappeared. 'Yes?' she said.
The vicar turned round. I could see his face now. It
was a proud face, with a thin mouth and dull eyes. So,
this was Mrs Blakemore's nephew!
'Hello!' I said brightly. 'A bottle of tonic please!'
That evening, I saw Reverend Palmer again. I had just
helped Mrs Blakemore to go to her bathroom. She
wanted to wash and brush her teeth. When he came in,
I was helping her to get back into bed. He was holding
another box of chocolates.
'Ah, John, it's you! Come and sit down,' she said. 'Look!
I've got a nice new nurse. She's going to make me better.'
He looked at me but I don't think he remembered me.
'Smile, John, smile,' his aunt said. 'You're always so
serious.'
'That's because I am very worried about the church,
Aunt Kitty,' he said. 'We need thousands of pounds to
mend the roof.'
'Oh, stop it,' said Mrs Blakemore. 'You're always
talking about the church. It's so boring! Come on, Nurse,
open the chocolates. My nephew needs something to
make him smile.'
But he stood up. 'No, not for me, thank you, Aunt. I
must go now. I'm very busy.'
10
I opened the box of chocolates and gave it to Mrs
Blakemore. Then I left the room.
Outside the door, I met Charlotte. She was carrying
Mrs Blakemore's dinner.
'What's she having tonight?' I asked.
'Scrambled eggs,' said Charlotte. 'We're having
scrambled eggs, too.'
I went down to the kitchen. Bernard and Miss Vixon
were talking. When they saw me, they stopped. I sat
down. The silence was worse than at lunchtime.
Mrs Blakemore only ate half of her scrambled eggs.
'If you don't eat your food, you won't get better,' I said.
'I hate to waste things, but this tastes terrible,' she
complained. Take it away. I want a glass of hot milk.'
I went back to the kitchen and I told Bernard.
'Oh, she always says my food tastes terrible,' he said.
'She wants a glass of hot milk,' I told him.
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'Does she?' he said. 'Well, I'm not making it for her.'
'I'll make it,' said Miss Vixon. 'Don't worry, Nurse.
Go and watch television. I'll take it up to her.'
I watched television until nine thirty. Then I went
upstairs.
'I must brush my teeth again,' said Mrs Blakemore.
'I've got a very nasty taste in my mouth.'
I helped her to get out of bed.
'You really are very weak,' I said. 'Tomorrow you must
eat all your food.'
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