Kit Cavendish-Private Nurse

by Margaret Malcolm

  She accepted his statement without comment, but he must have read her thoughts for he continued, “And don’t look so reproachful because it means you won’t be able to work yourself like a galley slave to make up for what has happened. I want someone on guard twenty-four hours a day, and you know as well as I do that’s beyond the power of one person. Now, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” Kit admitted, but the trouble did not clear from her face.

  “Kit, you mustn’t take it so to heart,” Jason said earnestly. “Don’t you see, even if you had got in touch with me, I would have almost certainly said exactly what you did.”

  “But I should have known better,” Kit said quickly.

  “Why?” Jason asked bluntly.

  “Because I know Victor,” Kit explained. “And I knew that he was disappointed at the idea of not showing Mr. Baylis the report.”

  “Yes?” Jason encouraged softly.

  “Victor likes things to go the way he wants them,” Kit said slowly. “When they don’t ... well, I should have known that he couldn’t make more than a half-hearted attempt at heading Mr. Baylis off. He couldn’t be convincing, you see.” Her voice trailed away, and for a moment there was silence.

  Then, suddenly, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder.

  “Kit,” he said urgently, “tell me...”

  At that precise moment, Noel entered the room. Jason’s hand dropped.

  “Am I butting in on a conference?” Noel asked. “I won’t keep you a moment. I just wanted to say, Heathfield, how grateful I am for the way you tackled the situation—and I hope my interpolations didn’t put you off your stroke?”

  “You were most helpful,” Jason said with an earnestness that surprised Kit. “What with your efforts—and other things—I’ve got to the bottom of quite a lot of things that have puzzled me.”

  “Yes?” Noel looked interested, but as Jason said no more he went on, “Wrinch is a difficult beggar to pin down. He’s left, by the way. Seems he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.”

  “Good,” Jason said laconically.

  And that was all. Jason made no attempt to return to the conversation that Noel had interrupted—indeed, he had no opportunity of doing so. As a result, Kit was left in a more confused state of mind than she had known since, years before, she had received Jason’s farewell letter.

  His manner toward her had changed completely from a professional to a friendly one. He had called her by her first name, and his touch on her shoulder had been almost a caress...

  What had he been going to say to her? Would he ever tell her? Or was she indulging in wishful thinking about something really quite unimportant?

  On the surface, at least, life in the household settled back into an orderly routine. And with Nurse Stoke to help her, Kit had far more time to herself. Consequently, when she had a letter from Miss Catchpole inviting her to tea, she could find no excuse for refusing, although she was not at all sure that she wanted a téte-a-téte with that shrewd old lady.

  However, to begin with, Miss Catchpole was discretion itself. She asked after Kit’s family, and Kit, welcoming such a safe topic, gave her all the details.

  “And now, tell me about yourself,” Miss Catchpole suggested. “You told me you finished your training. Let me see, which hospital did you go to?”

  “St. Magnus’s,” Kit replied, and with a sinking heart saw Miss Catchpole’s face light up.

  “Why, that’s where the man they called in to see Mr. Baylis came from, isn’t it?” she pounced. “Heathcliff or something.”

  “Heathfield,” Kit corrected mechanically. “Yes, he did.”

  “And did you know him?”

  “He was there when I started my training,” Kit admitted. But if she thought that brief answers would choke off Miss Catchpole, she was mistaken. It only served to make her curious.

  “And you were great friends?” she suggested meaningly, her dark, beady eyes intent on Kit’s face.

  Kit managed to laugh.

  “If you knew anything about hospital life, Miss Catchpole, you’d know that not only is friendship between doctors and nurses severely discouraged, but there is very little opportunity for its development!”

  “Rubbish, my dear,” Miss Catchpole said firmly. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way! And you were a very pretty girl in those days—you still are, though you look a bit drawn to me. Having difficulties at Moneyhill? Well, I did warn you, didn’t I?”

  “Miss Catchpole, really!” Kit. protested. “You know, you’re very naughty! You let your imagination run away with you.”

  “No, my dear, that’s just what I don’t do,” her hostess assured her. “The only thing I take any interest in is facts—undeniable facts. That’s why I always ask questions of people who are in a position to know the truth.” She was silent for a long moment and then suddenly said, “That’s why I want you to tell me what really happened about Lena Palmer!”

  “Lena Palmer?” Kit repeated blankly. “Who’s she?”

  Miss Catchpole tutted impatiently.

  “Now don’t pretend you don’t know, my dear! The story is all over the village—if you can call it that these days—and you must have heard something about it, living in the same house!”

  “Miss Catchpole, I assure you that I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about,” Kit insisted. “You must believe me, because it’s quite true.”

  The old eyes raked her shrewdly.

  “I believe you’re telling me the truth,” she said at last. “And come to think of it, you may never have heard the girl’s name. You wouldn’t come in contact with her, of course. Well, I’ll tell you. She was a kitchen maid at Moneyhill, and since you’ve been there, she was summarily dismissed—without a character reference and without any salary in lieu of notice. In disgrace, in other words.”

  “Yes,” Kit said slowly, “I did hear that one of the kitchen maids had been dismissed.”

  “But you don’t know why?” Miss Catchpole leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Then I’ll tell you. Lena’s mother was taken very ill indeed. So ill that the girl was sent for. Mrs. Baylis was at the office, so Lena went to talk to that niece of hers...”

  “Sue Day,” Kit said automatically. She did not want to listen to Miss Catchpole, but those beady eyes seemed to hypnotize her.

  “Sue Day,” Miss Catchpole repeated. “Well, she, being apparently quite human, sent the girl home. Who wouldn’t? Well, Mrs. Baylis was furious with her niece for permitting it. What’s more, she had a note delivered to the girl’s home saying that as she was absent without leave, she need not come back. The next day Mrs. Palmer died. Well?”

  Kit stood up quickly.

  “I don’t believe it,” she protested. “I can’t believe it ... it’s too horrible...”

  “But you can’t assure me, in so many words, that it isn’t true?” Miss Catchpole asked significantly.

  Kit was silent. Having overheard that conversation between Mrs. Baylis and Sue, to say nothing of the lies Mrs. Baylis had subsequently told about the reason for the dismissal of the girl, how could she contradict the story?

  “I assure you that until this morning I had no idea that was why the girl left.”

  Miss Catchpole nodded.

  “That I can quite believe,” she said. “But it doesn’t answer my question, does it?”

  “No,” Kit agreed, picking up her handbag and gloves, “it doesn’t. I’m not in a position either to confirm or contradict the story. I just don’t know...”

  “But you know something, my dear!” Miss Catchpole said shrewdly.

  “I’m afraid you are letting your imagination run away with you,” Kit said coldly and, she knew, unfairly. “You will forgive me if I go now, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll understand that since I’m employed by Mr. and Mrs. Baylis, it would be wrong of me to listen to idle gossip.”

  “Not idle gossip, my dear,” Miss Catchpole said quietly. “As you, to your consternation, ar
e only too well aware! Goodbye, Kit. And thank you for coming!”

  Kit went out into the street. Completely oblivious of her surroundings, she hurried along, tormented by her thoughts.

  There must be some explanation, there must be, she told herself. No one could be so inhuman—

  “Hey, look where you’re going, Nurse Cavendish! You nearly walked through me!”

  Startled, Kit saw Noel Baylis blocking her way.

  “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I was thinking...”

  “I’m sure you were,” he agreed, watching her intently. “And not very pleasant thoughts either, I’d say. Why, my dear girl, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Kit said hastily.

  “Tell that to your grandmother,” Noel suggested. “She might believe it. I don’t.” He slipped an arm through hers and propelled her in the direction of his car.

  “I’m all right,” Kit protested, but Noel was adamant that she go in the car.

  To her relief he made no effort to ask questions or, indeed, to talk at all. She sat hunched up beside him, bemused by what had happened ... until, suddenly, she realized that far from going in the direction of Moneyhill, they were going the other way.

  “Mr. Baylis, please, I must get back!” she protested. And then, as he took no notice, she caught him by the arm and shook it. “Take me back at once!”

  “Steady now,” Noel said coolly, correcting the swerve her action had caused. “You’ll have us both in the ditch—and then there would be trouble! And stop looking so scared. I’m not about to abduct you! I simply intend to have that little talk we’ve postponed far too long, and I want to make sure we aren’t interrupted.”

  Kit’s mouth set in a firm, resolute line. She realized that at the speed they were traveling they were already so far from Ravenslea that even if he stopped and let her out, she could not walk back to the house in time. She had to listen to what he had to say and convince him as quickly as possible that he was wasting his time.

  He slowed and turned into a side lane.

  “This should be safe enough,” he commented, and came gently to a halt. He took his cigarette case out of his pocket. “Cigarette?”

  “No, thank you,” Kit said stiffly.

  Noel looked at her thoughtfully.

  “So you won’t talk?” he suggested. “I didn’t think you would, so instead, Tm not going to ask questions. I’m going to tell you things. You were having tea with Miss Catchpole, and something she said upset you. Don’t trouble to deny it, I know what she’s like. She wanted to get some information out of you and when she didn’t succeed, she gave you some. Yes, I thought so,” he said, as involuntarily, Kit caught her breath. “About my father and Ruth, I suppose?”

  “No,” Kit said firmly.

  “No?” Noel’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “Well then, my second guess is ... about Lena Palmer?”

  Kit turned to him appealingly.

  “Mr. Baylis, please do try to understand my position at Moneyhill. My job is to nurse your father. I have neither the right nor the wish to become involved in family affairs,” she said earnestly.

  “I see your point,” Noel admitted. “And I don’t blame you. But try to see mine. I’m honestly and deeply worried on my father’s account. As a result, I’m past caring about other people’s feelings—yours included, I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.”

  “About your father...” Kit repeated. “Yes, well, of course you are. But plenty of people get over the trouble he has.”

  “Oh, sure ... if they’re allowed to,” Noel retorted somewhat grimly.

  “Allowed to! But surely you don’t think...” Kit couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

  “That Wrinch tried to deliberately upset him in the hope that he’d pop off?” Noel suggested. “No, on the contrary. But it goes deeper than that.” He hesitated for a moment. “You realize, I suppose, that for all she ratted on him, my dear stepmother was concerned in that upset?”

  Kit sighed impatiently. Now he had really gone too far. “Mr. Baylis, will you please take me back? I have to be on duty in half an hour.”

  “You will if you’ll only be sensible,” Noel told her inflexibly. “Clearly, I have to explain things a bit more to you. My stepmother was father’s secretary and a very competent one, too. Then they were married. For a time she enjoyed reorganizing the house, and I admit she did it well. Then she became bored. She even suggested that she go back to the office, but father wouldn’t hear of it. But when he was taken ill, she had her chance and she jumped at it. Did you say something?”

  “Had she not done so, he would have been greatly worried,” Kit said coldly. “As it is, she was able to put his mind at rest.”

  “Oh, sure,” Noel agreed ironically. “But you’re missing the point. She enjoyed stepping into father’s shoes because, for the first time in her life, she had unlimited power, and that, to her, is the most precious thing of all.”

  “You may be right,” Kit fenced, only too uncomfortably aware that she thought he was. “But even so...”

  “Of course I’m right,” Noel insisted impatiently. “This Lena Palmer business Do you know what made her so angry? Not that the girl needed time off—had she been there, she’d almost certainly have let her go. No, it was Sue daring to act on her own initiative, and the girl taking it for granted it was all right. Undermining Ruth’s authority, in other words.”

  “But what does that have to do with Mr. Baylis’s health?” Kit asked.

  “Have you never heard the saying that while power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely?” he asked somberly. And when Kit did not reply, he went on, “If my father makes a complete recovery, how do you think my stepmother will feel about relinquishing the power his illness has given her?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kit stared at Noel in utter horror.

  “But you don’t mean ... you can’t mean...” she stammered.

  “That Ruth hopes my father will die?” Noel said with brutal frankness. “No, You see, Ruth knows, as I do, that the terms of my father’s will entirely preclude the possibility of her being undisputed boss after his death.”

  “Then what...?” Kit asked anxiously.

  “If,” Noel replied deliberately, “father makes only a partial recovery, or even if he does eventually get fit enough to work again, but can be convinced that he is still a semi-invalid, it will be inevitable that Ruth will stay in the saddle indefinitely. That’s what she wants.”

  “You can’t know...” Kit protested, but without much conviction.

  “Oh, yes, my dear girl, I do know. I know Ruth. That’s quite enough,” Noel insisted. “But the devil of it is there’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, the way father is at present, it’s impossible to warn him, because whether I convinced him or not, he’d blow his top, and we don’t want any more of that!”

  “We certainly don’t,” Kit agreed emphatically. She pondered for a moment. “Look, Mr. Baylis, let’s assume that you are right. Mrs. Baylis would be perfectly willing to carry on working—” “Willing!” Noel snorted derisively. “She’s determined to, I tell you!”

  “All right,” Kit conceded, “she’s determined to. Well, is that a bad thing? No, wait a moment, let me finish. Supposing your father is a semi-invalid from now on—and I know Dr. Heathfield has warned you that it may be the case—then Mrs. Baylis will have to carry on. On the other hand, if, as we sincerely hope, he is able to work again, he will still have to be careful not to overdo it. It seems to me that with her knowledge of the work, Mrs. Baylis is ideally suited to relieve him of a lot of strain.”

  “It sounds lovely, doesn’t it?” Noel retorted dryly. “The only thing is, you’re missing the crucial point. If the old man goes back, naturally he’ll be the one to give the orders. And that wouldn’t suit her ladyship in the least. She wants to be the undisputed boss, my dear!”

  Kit shook her head.

  “Honestly, I think you’re lettin
g your imagination run away with you,” she told him. “Perhaps it’s natural in the circumstances, but don’t you think you’re letting personal prejudice play too big a part—I mean, you don’t have the least bit of real evidence—”

  “No?” Noel countered grimly. “Then what about the way Ruth and Wrinch did their utmost not to let father see the annual report? If that doesn’t smell of skullduggery, I don’t know what does!”

  “But you’ve got it all wrong,” Kit told him earnestly. “You heard me say that Victor asked about it beforehand.”

  Noel gave her a resigned look.

  “You’re too good for this world, Nurse Cavendish,” he remarked. “ You missed the point entirely. Dear Victor didn’t want father to see that report. Just why, I don’t know, but my bet is that there was something in it that he would have disapproved of, and Ruth and Wrinch jolly well knew it. They’re hand in glove ... oh, nothing romantic—they’re both too cold-blooded for that. But business ... that’s another matter.”

  “But, Mr. Baylis, I’ve told you, Victor wanted to show your father the report,” Kit insisted. “It was I who ... oh!”

  “See what I mean?” Noel asked significantly. “They were pretty certain father would ask for a copy of the statement. Wrinch didn’t want to show it to him, but neither did he want to admit that So, in case of accident, he very carefully shifted the responsibility for not showing it on your shoulders. A tricky customer, our Mr. Wrinch!”

  “But,” Kit said, “you’re basing all that on the supposition that although Victor insisted that it has been a wonderful year, something has gone wrong with the firm, presumably through mismanagement. But if that’s so, Mr. Baylis must have had some idea about it because, until November, he was in charge himself.”

  “Hm,” Noel frowned. “On the face of it, that sounds reasonable enough, I admit. And yet I know, really know, I’m right.”

  “But there is another thing,” Kit went on. “If Victor didn’t really want your father to see the report, why did he bring a copy with him? He could easily have said he hadn’t one with him, but would send it on, and then not do so.”