Page 4 of The Love Letter

‘This woman . . . I . . . she needs . . .’

‘Air!’ the old lady cried between gasps.

The usher helped Joanna lead the woman into the grey January day and down the steps to one of the benches that flanked the courtyard. Before Joanna could ask for further assistance, the usher had ducked back into the church and closed the doors once again. The old lady slumped against her, her breathing ragged.

‘Should I call an ambulance? You really don’t sound very well.’

‘No!’ the old lady gasped, the strength of her voice at odds with the frailty of her body. ‘Call a taxi. Take me home.Please.’

‘I really think you should—’

The bony fingers locked around Joanna’s wrist. ‘Please! A taxi!’

‘All right, you wait there.’

Joanna ran out of the gates into Bedford Street and hailed a passing black cab. The driver gallantly got out and walked back with Joanna to help the old lady to his vehicle.

‘She okay? The old duck’s breathing sounds a bit off,’ he said to Joanna, as the two of them settled the woman on the back seat. ‘Does she need to go to hospital?’

‘She says she wants to go home.’ Joanna leant into the cab. ‘Where is home by the way?’ she asked the woman.

‘I . . .’ The effort of getting into the cab had obviously exhausted her. She sat there, panting.

The cabbie shook his head. ‘Sorry, love. ’Fraid I can’t take her anywhere in that state, not by herself, like. Don’t want a death in the back of my cab. Far too messy. Could take her if you come too, of course. Then it’s your responsibility rather than mine.’

‘I don’t know her . . . I mean, I’m working . . . I should be in that church now . . .’

‘Sorry, love,’ he said to the old lady. ‘You’ll have to get out.’

The old lady lifted her veil and Joanna saw her terrified milky-blue eyes. ‘Please,’ she mouthed.

‘Okay, okay.’ Joanna sighed with resignation and climbed into the back of the cab. ‘Where to?’ she asked gently.

‘. . . Mary . . . Mary . . .’

‘No. Where to?’ Joanna tried again.

‘Mary . . . le . . .’

‘Do you mean Marylebone, love?’ the cabbie asked from the front seat.

The woman nodded with visible relief.

‘Right you are.’

The old lady stared anxiously out of the window as the cab sped away. Eventually, her breathing began to ease and she rested her head against the black leather seat and closed her eyes.

Joanna sighed. This day was getting better and better. Alec would crucify her if he thought she’d snuck off early. The story of a little old lady being taken ill would not wash with him. Little old ladies were only of interest to Alec if they’d been beaten up by some skinhead after their pension money and left for dead.

‘We’re nearly in Marylebone now. Could you try and find out where we’re going?’ called the cabbie from the front of the taxi.

‘Nineteen Marylebone High Street.’ The clipped voice rang out crisp and clear. Joanna turned to look at the old woman in surprise.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes, thank you. Sorry to put you to so much trouble. You should get out here. I’ll be fine.’ She indicated that they had stopped at a traffic light.

‘No. I’ll see you home. I’ve come this far.’