Gradually the others stop shifting and murmuring as the chloral takes effect. The attendant plays on, drinking at intervals, but her yawns become more frequent, and eventually she lays aside the cards and rests her head on the table. Once she's snoring, I slip from my bed and approach her cautiously.
Like all the other attendants, her keys hang from her belt, but I can only see three. Why does she have so few? Several locked doors stand between here and the front door to the asylum. And then I remember—on my very first day, looking from the gate in the airing court and noticing the attendants who spoke to the gardener. Perhaps there's a side door that the staff use. If so, it can't be far away.
The attendant stirs, muttering, and I dart back to bed. If I could take her keys ... But she's bound to wake up. And then there's Beatrice. She can't walk. How will I get her out? And if we succeed, what will we do then?
I lie awake for hours, turning these questions over in my mind.
Gradually a plan forms, a risky plan, but one that might be possible. For Beatrice's sake, I have to try it. But how am I going to get to see her? I must tell her about the plan, but, like a cat, Weeks watches my every move. Perhaps Eliza can help.
***
Two days pass before I get a chance to speak to Eliza. I can barely contain my impatience. But on the third day, I have a stroke of luck. Eliza's on lavatory duty before breakfast, so I make sure I'm at the end of the queue.
"All right, Miss?" she asks, as I come out.
Checking that Weeks isn't about, I say in a low voice, "Eliza, I have to see Beatrice, Miss Hill, again. Soon."
She frowns. "It's risky, Miss."
"I know, but it's important. Can you help me?"
"I don't know." She chews her lip.
"Please, Eliza." I put my hand on her arm.
She looks at my hand then raises her eyes to my face. "I'll see what I can do."
"There's something else. I need to know what my admission papers say. Especially who signed them. Can you find out for me?"
Her face falls. "I can't. Sorry, Miss."
She looks so miserable I wish I hadn't asked. "Of course. You mustn't risk losing your place."
"It's not just that." Eliza's cheeks are red. "I'm not a right good reader, Miss."
I'd been counting on Eliza. I'll just have to go ahead without knowing what the papers say.
In the day room, I bend my head to my work, appearing to be a model patient. But, hidden beneath my skirt, my feet tap. Intoxicated by the thought of freedom, they're ready to run.
Lunch is over and it's raining too hard for us to go out.
The long afternoon stretches ahead. Eliza has just returned from some errand Weeks sent her on. They're standing behind me and I can hear every word.
"You took your time." Weeks, sharp as ever.
"Matron stopped me."
"For untidiness, as usual, I suppose."
"No." Eliza's tone is injured and I can imagine her expression. "She wants to see you. Now."
My heart jumps.
"Now?" Weeks is clearly surprised. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The minute the door closes, I whirl round.
But before I can say anything, Eliza clutches my arm and draws me to the door away from the others. "Hang on. Wait till she's out of the gallery. Then you must be quick. You've got about ten minutes, I reckon."
"What?" I don't understand.
Eliza shakes her hand impatiently. "Matron doesn't want to see her—I made it up."
"Oh, Eliza! You'll be in such trouble—"
"Ssh! Don't waste time." She sticks her head out of the door, then bundles me through it.
I race along the hallway and burst into Beatrice's room. She starts up in bed, eyes wide with shock.
"Don't worry, it's only me. But I haven't got long. I've something to tell you." I can see I'm alarming her and I try to slow down.
"Beatrice, it's all right. How are you?"
"I—I've not been well. Weeks—" She raises her shoulders as if to ward off an imaginary blow.
"What? What's she done? Has she hurt you?"
"No, but—she keeps saying I'm lying. And she found Rosalie ... and took her away. She said she was going to burn her..." She starts to weep.
I seize her hands. "Beatrice, listen to me. I can get you out of here."
She frowns. She doesn't understand what I'm saying and I'm running out of time and this might be my only chance. "I'll come for you tonight."
"Come for me?"
"Yes, and we'll escape. I've worked it all out. We can do it, I'm sure." Instead of looking joyful, her face creases up.
"What is it?"
"I can't go."
"You can. We'll take the invalid chair. Don't worry about anything. I'll look after you, I promise."
My words don't seem to be having any effect. She's still looking distressed.
"Beatrice, trust me. I won't let you down."
How many minutes have passed? I don't know. I don't want to leave her but I must. If Weeks catches me here, Eliza will be in terrible trouble. "I've got to go now, but I'll come tonight, all right? Tonight." I give her hands a squeeze.
***
Before Weeks returns, I'm back in my place, hemming industriously. Without turning my head, I see her storm in, scowling. My face feels flushed, and I hope she doesn't notice.
"Eliza!" She snaps the name so abruptly nearly everyone jumps. "What were you thinking of? Matron didn't want to see me today."