by Mary Cummins
“Bring a spare frock for you, too, then,” advised Graham. “I might push you in again!”
Anne could see the child relaxing as they poked fun at one another, then she climbed into the back of the car, having put Judith in the front seat.
Mr. and Mrs. Drummond came to see them off, and Anne turned away as she caught a look of nostalgia on their faces. There was no doubt they would have preferred her to marry Graham, and to have settled down in Arndale. Anne’s thoughts turned again to Francis, as they frequently did. Would they ever be really happy together? she wondered.
She remembered how dear and precious he had been to her during their honeymoon, and she had felt then that he had strong feelings for her, even if they weren’t the true love she wanted from him.
But now? Now she didn’t know any more. He hadn’t liked her close contact with Caroline Cook. Had he really let the girl down, letting her think he loved her, then rejecting her so suddenly? Could she picture Francis doing such a thing?
Yet Caroline was beautiful and talented. She had put her pride in the dust by coming back to the Hall as an employee of Anne’s, but real love was stronger than pride, and Anne realised how the girl must have been drawn towards the place. She couldn’t help herself.
Yet Francis had hurriedly turned to herself, almost as though he needed their marriage as some sort of protection. Protection? Anne’s eyes grew wide as her thoughts raced on. She was aware of Graham talking gaily to Judith in front of her, though again the child was rather silent, and Anne was staring almost unseeingly at the passing countryside. What would happen if Francis no longer needed her? Would he regret being tied to her, and would he insist on keeping those ties when he knew about their baby? He would have to know soon. Anne looked at Judith’s small dark head, knowing that although she had wanted to help the child, she had also wanted to think things out for herself. Somehow she must take hold of herself and re-plan her own life before going back, and without allowing her love for Francis to overrule her common sense.
She came to herself, glancing up at the mirror in the car, to catch Graham’s eyes on her briefly.
“Nearly there,” he said. “You all right, Anne?”
“Of course.”
“Did you remember the mustard?”
“Of course.”
“And hard-boiled eggs?”
“Of course. Judith shelled those.”
“Then I’ll throw her into the sea if she’s left any shell on the eggs. So just you look out, young lady,” he boomed at her, and Judith smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling as she turned to look back at Anne.
She looks so like Francis at times, thought Anne with a pang. It wouldn’t be very easy to make plans objectively.
Anne and Graham had long ago, found their favourite picnic spot and he drove there automatically.
“Come on, young lady,” he called to Judith, handing out baskets and rugs. “We’ll eat first. I’m starving!”
Anne spread a red-checked tablecloth and put out plates of sandwiches and cakes, then began to pour out cups of tea for Judith and Graham, and coffee for herself.
Graham had made a place beside him on the rug for Judith to sit down, and she accepted a sandwich, shyly at first, then becoming more relaxed.
“Another sandwich, love?” asked Graham quietly, then lifted the plate when she didn’t answer.
“Another sandwich, Judith? Take a good drink of that tea, then let me ask you something.”
“What?” asked Judith.
“How long is it since you found it difficult to hear?”
Anne almost felt herself choke on her own sandwich, and gasped a little as Judith’s hand shook, spilling a few drops of tea. Surely ... surely that wasn’t what was wrong! Surely Judith couldn’t be deaf?
“Easy now, poppet,” said Graham soothingly, putting down Judith’s cup and taking her hands in his. “There’s no need to be frightened of being hard of hearing. It could easily be caused by something which could be put right quite simply, so don’t be scared.”
The child raised wide eyes to his face, then glanced fearfully at Anne. Graham had spoken to her slowly and carefully, and she had obviously heard every word.
“I ... I don’t know,” she whispered. “It just started and ... and then got worse and ... and sometimes I didn’t hear things at school and missed bits in lessons. And ... and sometimes I didn’t hear Mummy until she shouted at me and thought I was stupid....”
The last word was choked back as Judith began to cry quietly. A moment later she was in Anne’s arms while the tears came, and Anne’s own eyes were distressed as she looked at Graham.
“Let her cry,” he said quietly. “She’s bottled up her fear for too long.”
After a while the little girl blew her nose and Graham again took her hands.
“You know I’m a doctor, Judith, but there are lots better doctors who know all about ears.”
He pulled out his own ears so that he looked like a monkey and the child managed a watery smile, as she nodded.
“Well, we can get one of those doctors to look inside your ears. It may only be wax hardened on as you can still hear fairly well in both ears. Oh yes, I’ve tested you without your knowing it! So don’t go flying into a panic. Why didn’t you tell Anne?”
“She’d have told Francis,” said Judith promptly, “and ... and...”
“Maybe I would,” agreed Anne, “but it would have been with a view to helping you, darling. Surely you know that.”
“He’d have worried, and ... and Mummy, too. And I didn’t know it could be made better. I ... I didn’t want you all to know in case you were frightened for me, then I’d have been frightened, too.”
“But you aren’t now?” asked Graham.
Judith hesitated.
“I am still ... a bit,” she admitted honestly.
“Look! Look there,” he said, and turned her round to see one or two tiny blue tits which had come to pick up crumbs Graham had thrown a short distance away.
“They have courage, haven’t they, Judith? I mean, for all they know, that bread is a trap so that we can catch them. But they take their tiny lives in their own tiny claws and bravely hop within a few feet of us big giants. They have courage, haven’t they?”
Judith nodded.
“All right. I’ll try to have courage, too.”
“Good girl! You’ll be better than your Uncle Graham, then. You should hear me yell at the dentist’s.”
Once again Judith was laughing, this time with more genuine merriment in her voice. She had also regained her appetite and was tucking in, again, to more tea and sandwiches as though a weight had been taken off her mind.
“You can go and play, while Anne and I repack,” Graham told her, and they watched her clamber happily over the rocks while Anne repacked the picnic basket and folded up the tablecloth.
“Oh, Graham,” she said, a small catch in her voice as they loaded the boot of the car, “I’m frightened now. Suppose ... suppose she does lose her hearing? I never suspected that was what was wrong.”
“Now don’t you panic either,” he told her flatly. “I bet you anything you like she’s got wax hardened in. She can go to her own doctor, and he’ll arrange for her to have her ears syringed. No doubt the wax will need to be softened first with oil, if my guess is correct, but even if it’s more than that, isn’t it better to find out while something, can be done?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll have to tell Francis ... and Mrs. Wyatt.”
“Are you really happy at Elvan?” asked Graham suddenly. “You don’t talk too much about your life there, and very little about Francis. I ... I’d hate to think I let you go, if it was a mistake and you didn’t love him after all.”
“I do love him, Graham, only...”
She hesitated. Not even to Graham could she admit that Francis didn’t love her.
“Only what?”
“Nothing.”
He was silent for a while.
“An
d you don’t want to tell me anything else?”
She looked at him enquiringly.
“I’m not a doctor for nothing, Anne.”
She coloured guiltily.
“I’m keeping it a secret yet, Graham. I ... I haven’t told Mummy and Daddy.”
“Why not? I would have thought it would be a matter for great jubilation. It could be the son and heir, after all. You haven’t even told ... anybody?”
He emphasised the last word and she shook her head, realising what he meant. He took her hand.
“Nothing worrying you, Anne? Surely you can’t be worried about having a baby? It happens all the time.”
Again she shook her head, unable to explain why she hadn’t immediately told Francis. She had been vaguely aware of other cars passing on the main road, and occasionally one would stop while someone got out to look at the view. Now she felt Graham’s fingers tighten on her own as he looked up, and a moment later Judith rushed past them, scrambling up over the rocks.
“Francis!” she cried. “Francis! How funny to see you here. We ... we all thought you were in the office.”
“Obviously,” he said icily, his arms going automatically round his small sister while his eyes went over her head to burn into Anne’s. She saw that he was furiously angry.
“F-Francis,” she said, rather weakly. “How ... how did you get here? I mean, we came on a picnic ... with Graham.”
“So I see.”
“Now don’t get the wrong ideas, Wyatt,” said Graham hurriedly. “We’re just doing something we’ve been doing for years. I mean...”
Francis’ face was hard as granite.
“I called to take you home, Anne. You and Judith.”
“There’s something wrong?”
“Very wrong.”
“Not ... an accident?”
“No. Everyone is perfectly all right as far as health is concerned.”
“Except one,” interrupted Graham, his eyes going to Judith. “I’m a doctor, Wyatt, and I’d like a word with you.”
“I’ve no wish to discuss my wife, with you, Lord,” Francis said, glaring.
“But you don’t understand,” cried Anne. “We’ve got something to tell you.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said heavily, while Judith looked from one to the other with large eyes.
“We can’t talk here,” Graham said crisply. “I shall have to see you later, Wyatt. I’m due back for surgery anyway.”
“I’ll drive you home, Anne, you and Judith. We’ll pick up your things.”
“I don’t want to come with you, Francis,” she said coldly. “You knew I was coming for two weeks. We’ve only been here for one.”
“I didn’t know then what I know now,” he told her, “though I’d rather not discuss personal matters regarding our family till we’re back in our own home.”
Suddenly she understood, seeing a vision of Helen’s mischievous face as she offered her a bet that she would be engaged by the time Anne got home. She had probably tackled her mother after Anne left, and Francis had just newly been called in. He disliked Roger Baxter, and Anne knew him well enough now to realise his anger was mainly caused by fear. He wouldn’t want his sister messing up her life. Especially when he might have messed up his own, thought Anne miserably.
She knew now why Francis insisted on wailing till they were home before bringing it all out into the open. He couldn’t discuss Helen in front of either Graham or Judith.
“We’ll go back with Francis,” she told Graham, “then you can drive straight on to surgery. Thank you for your help, Graham.”
“Best transfer all your picnic stuff, then,” Graham suggested, and there was almost a truce as they transferred hampers and rugs, and installed Judith and Anne in the other car.
“I’ll sit in the back this time,” said Judith. “Francis is awfully angry. He gets angry sometimes, but he soon forgets that he is angry.”
She grinned and Anne saw that she wasn’t afraid of her brother’s anger. She saw Graham hurriedly speaking to Francis, his hands waving as though he were explaining something. Francis turned white again, as he looked towards them, and Anne suspected that Graham was telling him about Judith.
A moment later he walked over to his car and climbed in. “Don’t worry, Francis, she’ll be all right,” Anne said gently.
He turned to stare at her, a look of pain in his eyes.
“Is Lord still so important to you,” he asked, “that you should discuss matters with him before me? Does he matter so much to you still, Anne?”
“Of course not ... at least, not in the way you mean. We’ve been friends since childhood, though, Francis. It’s only natural I should consult him.”
He looked at her for a long time, then drew a hand over his eyes.
“I ... I’ve made a mistake somewhere, Anne. I’ve put the wrong things first. But I can’t think ... not till we get home to Elvan. I’m sorry I’ve lost your trust.”
“But you haven’t, Francis!”
Even as she said it, Anne felt her face colour. She had doubted her trust in him, especially over Caroline Cook. Somehow he had sensed it. She heard him sigh as she watched the shadows on his face.
“Come on, let’s apologise to your parents. I think we need to take Judith home now in any case. At least Lord offers me some hope for her. He thinks her hearing is only slightly impaired by hardened wax, and there’s no disease. God grant that he’s right. I’m grateful to him, and ... and I’ve apologised.”
He had spoken in a low voice so that Anne could hear, but Judith, sitting back behind them, obviously hadn’t managed to catch, because she leaned forward.
“What, Francis?”
“We’ll sort you out, darling, don’t worry.”
“I know, Francis. I was so afraid you’d be worried, though. You always have so many things to do.”
Anne saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“Too many,” he agreed. “Too many for my own good.”
Anne said nothing. Soon they would be home and she would have to explain their sudden departure without bringing in Helen’s name.
Anne managed to meet her mother’s questioning eyes with a reassuring smile.
“I’m sorry, Mummy darling,” she said brightly. “I’ll have to go home with Francis, and take Judith with me.”
Mrs. Drummond looked disappointed.
“I thought you were concerned for the child’s health,” she said bluntly.
“We’ve got a pointer now,” Anne told her quickly, having sent Judith upstairs to pack her few odds and ends. “Graham has found out she’s having difficulty with hearing. The quicker we see about it the better.”
“Oh, poor lamb!” cried Mrs. Drummond, her suspicions vanishing. “Oh, by all means you must take her home if it means consulting the proper medical authority. Is ... is it serious, Anne?”
Anne’s cheeks were flushed. She hated telling half the truth.
“Graham thinks there’s a good chance it can be put right fairly easily,” she said, and glanced at Francis who had been standing rather aloofly. “I’ll just go up and see to Judith’s clothes, and mine.”
As she ran upstairs, Francis stepped forward rather awkwardly.
“Thank you for having Judith ... and Anne.”
“She looks tired, my dear,” his mother-in-law told him bluntly, and he nodded, a trifle withdrawn.
“I hope that’s only temporary, Mrs. Drummond. I shall see Mrs. Hansett and arrange for more help for Anne.”
Nell Drummond said nothing, but turned with some relief to her husband who had come in from the garden.
“I’m afraid Anne has to take Judith home, dear. Graham says she must have her hearing tested.”
“Of course ... that’s what it is,” said Mr. Drummond. “She listened best when I boomed at her. Well, and how are you, Francis, my boy?”
Francis relaxed, and smiled.
“Keeping well, thank you, sir. But you look ready for your move
to the cottage, if you don’t mind my saying so. Wouldn’t you both like to come to Elvan till the cottage is ready for you ... after you’ve preached your last sermon, of course.”
“That’s very kind of you, Francis,” said Anne’s mother, softening.
“We may be glad of that invitation,” Stephen Drummond assured him. “May we let you and Anne know?”
“Of course.”
Then as he looked up to see Anne coming downstairs with Judith by the hand, Francis seemed to step back into his shell.
“I’ll take those cases,” he offered, rather awkwardly.
“Can I take my conch shell?” asked Judith. “Mr. Drummond said I could have the conch shell on his desk.”
“Very well,” agreed Francis, and the little girl hurried away, while goodbyes were said, rather awkwardly.
Anne climbed into her own small car. Judith was travelling with Francis in the larger one, and Anne was glad to be alone with her thoughts. She felt a rush of love for her parents as she waved them goodbye, following Francis out of the drive. She had their love, which was very precious to her.
She tried to keep up with the car in front, seeing that Francis was deliberately reducing speed to try to keep her in view. At first the roads were very empty, but towards Carlisle traffic intervened, and the bigger car was soon lost, well ahead. When Anne finally arrived at Elvan Hall, it was early evening and the other car was already drawn up outside the front door. She climbed out, still aware of the small thrill she always experienced when she saw the lovely old place in the bright summer evening. There was no doubt that Elvan Hall now held a special place in her heart.
Helen was crossing the entrance hall, but she hurried forward to meet Anne, giving her an unexpected hug.
“Francis had to go upstairs,” she explained, “and Judith is with Mother. It’s good to see you home again, Anne.”
Anne felt a rush of gratitude towards her sister-in-law. At least Helen had welcomed her as though she really was pleased to see her again.
“Look,” said Helen, showing her a small diamond sparkling on her engagement finger. “Didn’t I tell you? I won my bet, but only after the most awful row. I must say, I enjoyed it though. Mummy and Francis were both livid.”
