‘This is Doctor Falconer. Would you like to show him around and introduce him?’
‘Oh yes. Yes.’ And looking at John, she added, ‘I’ve seen you before in the town. You are old Cornwallis’ man, aren’t you?’
‘I am his partner.’
‘Partner? Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were just one of those, what d’you call them? locums?’
Her voice stern, Beatrice put in, ‘Rosie, behave yourself! Please!’
For answer Rosie smiled widely at John and said, ‘Come along. You’ll get used to us all before you’re finished.’
‘I’m sure I shall,’ he nodded at her. She was a very pretty girl, not more than sixteen or seventeen and sparkling with life, which showed in her step and her voice.
As they passed the steps above which were walking the tall, beautiful sister and the very smart and pleasant-looking man, he was informed in a whisper, ‘That’s her future. They’re going to be married. He’s oldish but he’s a lovely man.’
‘What!’ He found he was surprised at his own tone.
‘I said, they are going to be married, and he is a . . .’
‘But she’s very young,’ he put in quickly.
‘She’s not, she’s twenty. Of course, as I said, he’s quite a bit older. Forty I think, which is old really, but he’s nice. I’m nearly eighteen, and I wouldn’t mind having him.’ She laughed gaily.
He was shaking his head as if at a naughty child as he said, ‘Well, I wouldn’t have believed it. Twenty-four, I would have said.’
Casting him a sidelong, laughing glance, she said, ‘Well, this is the rose garden. But you being a doctor, and clever, you will already have guessed that.’ And she laughed again, a gay, girlish laugh, then added, ‘And this is the topiary. I’m not fond of trees being cut and hacked about. Are you?’
He thought for a moment, then said, ‘No, since you ask, I’m not. I think they’re grotesque. They were never meant to grow like that.’
‘You’re right. You’re right.’
She skipped on ahead now, saying, ‘And this, sir, is the pine wood. You’ll notice on each side of you there are pine trees.’
He smiled broadly at her. She was an imp, this one, but a loving, kindly imp, if he knew anything about character. Different from the rest. They were all different. He thought of the beautiful girl again who was going to be married, and to a man twice her age. He couldn’t remember seeing anyone really like her before.
They emerged from the wood into a green area that ran down to the river. But he was brought to a stop by the sight of a very high wall. He looked to the right and couldn’t see where it began for it was lost in trees. But he could see that it ended on the river bank. She was by his side now and he looked at her and said, ‘That’s a very high wall.’
‘Yes; it used to be the kitchen garden. But it wasn’t as high as that then, it’s had another foot or so put on it.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh! Oh, Doctor, it’s . . . a . . . long . . . long . . . story.’
‘Well, I like long stories; I’d like to hear it.’
‘Would you?’
She now threw her arm around a young sapling and he thought that she was going to twirl herself about it; but she leant her head against it and said, ‘I call it the “Wailing Wall”, rather like the one the Jews have in Jerusalem, or wherever it is.’
He smiled and said, ‘Yes, wherever it is.’
‘Well, I never was any good at geography. Anyway, that was the wall to our kitchen garden and, so I’m given to understand, to the best piece of land in the whole sixty acres or so.’
‘Really! Sixty acres?’
‘Yes, but not since that was cut off. Well, it all goes back to Grandpapa. He was in the Army, you know, a very soldierly man. But he was lovely.’ Although she was still smiling there was a touch of sadness in her voice as she added, ‘Oh yes, he was another lovely man. And Grandmama was lovely, too. Grandpapa was always shouting, bawling. And Grandmama would crook her finger at him like that’ – she now demonstrated, wagging her first finger – ‘and he would come like a lamb, and she would say, “The wolf’s howling again,” and he would answer, quite pettishly, “No, I’m not. No, I’m not.” And she would often say with a smile, “Well, it must be just a dog barking.” Sometimes he would yell, “Well, Needler is a fool.” It was either Needler or Oldham or Connor, and Grandmama would then say teasingly, “It couldn’t be James MacIntosh.” You see Grandpapa was very fond of James MacIntosh.’ She now nodded towards the wall saying, ‘Robbie’s his son.’
He wasn’t enlightened, but he knew he would be presently.
They were walking on again as she said, ‘Grandpapa, you see, was a lieutenant-colonel or colonel, or something like that, and he had a batman named Jamie MacIntosh, who went to India with him. That was the first time Jamie rescued him. It was in a skirmish or something like that. Grandpapa found himself in a fix: he was hemmed in and the brave Scots laddie,’ – she had dropped into Scottish brogue now and was grinning at him – ‘shot his way in. In fact, I think, being like Grandpapa, he yelled a lot. He must have frightened them to death which is why they ran. Anyway, that’s how he got Grandpapa out. He was wounded; they were both wounded; but Jamie got him back. The second time was more serious. Jamie MacIntosh, I understand, was then a sergeant. They weren’t in India this time but in some other outlandish place, and Grandpapa was in charge of a company or something, and they had to retreat.’ She turned now, her face bright and laughing. ‘You always hear of the British advancing, never retreating, don’t you?’
He bit on his lip but said nothing. And so she went on again, ‘Well, in their retreat the Ghurkas or whoever they were . . . which side were the Ghurkas on?’
‘It all depended,’ he said, ‘when all this happened.’
‘Oh, but anyway, whoever it was, they shot Grandpapa in the leg. They thought he was dead and so they just tramped over him. But the great Jamie MacIntosh’ – she had reverted to the Scottish brogue again – ‘what does he do? He goes out to that field at night and sorts out my Grandpapa. But they were lying in wait and they shot Jamie’s arm off.’
His eyes widened and he said, ‘Really!’
‘Yes, really, right from there.’ She pointed above the elbow. ‘He used to have a hook. He could do lots of funny things with that hook. Anyway, the great Jamie was decorated; quite a hero he was. And Grandpapa didn’t lose his leg, but he always had to walk with a stick. Jamie MacIntosh, it’s a wonder he didn’t grow another arm. Anyway, there was our wonderful kitchen garden with the high wall all round it right down to the river. It was the best piece of soil, the gardener said, in the whole of the estate, and beautiful fruit trees grew on the side of the wall where the sun hit them, and the fruit and vegetables came up on their own. And at the head of that piece of land was a cottage. Well, it was bigger than a cottage, with eight rooms altogether, as well as offices, so it’s bigger than a cottage, isn’t it?’ He nodded at her. ‘And it had been empty for some time. So what does Grandpapa do but get it fixed up for Jamie?And, moreover, he had to do this in secret. Of course Grandmama knew, but Father didn’t. Father was nineteen at the time and very land-conscious; in fact, he still is. But Grandpapa passed over to Jamie all the land beyond that wall. It was about ten acres of workable and planting land with a yard beyond for animals; or at least some. There were two meadows in which to run a horse and a couple of sheep. And, as all the men said, it was the best piece of land in the whole estate, because with so many pine trees growing all over the place, the roots riddled the earth, so they said, and they had to break new ground on this side to make a new kitchen garden. It used to be a flower garden with greenhouses and a vinery and things. It took hard work. I understand my father was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it because Grandpapa had passed it over as . . . ahem!’ – she
clicked her tongue before she asked as a question, ‘deed of gift?’
‘Yes. Yes, you can pass things over as a deed of gift.’
‘Well, that’s what he did. Then the war started. Well, it didn’t really start until after Grandpapa died. But you see, the wall goes right down to the water and Grandpapa used to put on his high waterproof fishing boots and wade into the river and round the end of the wall. That was easy. I used to plodge round. The only other way in was to go onto the main road and through the front gate. That was a longish walk for Grandpapa and he used to take me by the hand from when I was very small and we would go to Robbie’s. Oh, I forgot to tell you that Jamie had married Annie, and she had Robbie. He was ten when I was born. I was the last of the tribe. Mrs Annie makes lovely griddles in the pan and thickens them with butter and honey. And of course, I used to be sick and there was always trouble. I can remember from when I was three going plodging round there. Robbie was thirteen then or twelve or something like that, but I used to follow him around like Floss. He seemed old to me. Then there would be the days when Mary May and Henrietta, those were the cows, came round the wall and got into the garden and ate the shrubs. Oh my! Oh my! So, to keep the peace, Grandpapa arranged for some railings and wire to be attached to the wall and extend into the river. Of course, it was further to plodge and get round; but there were still times when Mary May made the journey. Then she calved and little Mary May used to follow her.’ She fell silent now and she gazed towards the wall and her voice had a deep, sad note to it as she resumed, ‘They were wonderful days, beautiful days. Even when it snowed and sleeted and rained, the sun always seemed to shine, because Grandpapa and Grandmama were here. They were lovely people. Then two years ago everything seemed to happen at once.’ She turned and stared him fully in the face, saying, ‘Grandmama died, quite suddenly. Grandpapa was sitting with his arm around her and she died like that; and two months later, he died too: he couldn’t live without her. From the day she died he never went into the water. He sometimes went along the road to Robbie’s front gate, ’cos Jamie had died the previous year and Grandpapa missed him so much. But Robbie acted as a good second and would listen to all Grandpapa’s tales of what he and Jamie got up to in the wars, and what a brave man Robbie’s father had been. Then three months later Mama died, all of them in that one year. That was two years ago. Things have never been the same since.’ She looked down at her feet now and said, ‘Neither Grandmama nor Grandpapa wanted to die; their life together was so happy. But I think Mama wanted to die. Oh yes. Yes.’ Her head jerked up and her voice was a whisper now as she said, ‘I shouldn’t have said that, should I?’
‘Why not? It’s in your mind and I’m a doctor, which is the same as being a priest, you know; I don’t pass things on.’
‘No?’ There was a question in the word.
Then he asked, ‘Why are things not the same now?’
She was walking on again, slightly ahead of him, as she said, ‘Beatrice has taken over; she’s now head of the house. She loves the house, you know. She glories in it. None of us have any feeling for the house as she and Father have. She’s very like Father. Then there’s the war between Father and Robbie. If you come down here you’ll see what I mean . . . down to the river.’
They walked by the wall and as they neared the river she let out a high exclamation, crying, ‘Oh no! Mary May. Oh no! Mary May,’ for there, coming round the end of the wood and wire entanglement was a cow.
He watched the girl now drop onto the grass, pull off her shoes, then quite unselfconsciously lift up her skirt, pull down her garters from below her knees, then her stockings, push these into her shoes, tie the laces together, sling them around her neck and dash into the water, saying as she did so, ‘Take your shoes off if you want to come.’
‘I’d rather climb the wall,’ he shouted back at her.
‘Can you?’
‘Oh yes, yes; I’m used to climbing.’
He watched her now get a hold of the cow’s ear and turn it about. The water was well over her knees and soaking the bottoms of her petticoats and what looked like the frill of her drawers. She was talking all the time to the cow while at the same time shouting, ‘Robbie! Robbie!’
He glanced along the wall. Here and there a rough stone protruded from it. He made for one, and hauled himself up by it, far enough so that he could stretch and grab at the top of the wall. From there he could see he was right above a pigsty with a grunter looking enquiringly at him. Then, looking down the path, he saw a young man, who cried at him, ‘Hitch yourself along to the right. There’s a ladder there.’
Glancing to the right he inched himself rather painfully along the uneven stone wall until he reached some espalier apple bushes trained along the wall. Then he saw the ladder.
By the time he reached the ground the young fellow was taking the cow from Rosie’s hands and saying, ‘You should have left her there.’
‘And let Father shoot her? He will, you know. As sure as eggs are eggs he’ll shoot her. He told you last time.’
‘Just let him try. I’ve got a very good aim meself, and I’ve already promised him that.’
‘Can’t you put a barrier across the bottom so they can’t get into the water at all?’
‘Why should I? The river’s a public pathway.’
‘Don’t be silly, Robbie.’
‘I’m not being silly, Rosie. The river is a public pathway. You look it up.’
‘Is it?’ She had turned to John now who was dusting himself down and wondering whether the seat of his pants would last out until he got back to his lodgings, and he answered her, ‘I’ve never heard of it; but if your friend says it is, then I’m sure it is.’
‘Hello,’ said Robbie.
‘Hello, Robbie. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘You’re the new doctor?’
‘Yes, I’m the new doctor.’
‘Well, I hope you answer calls quicker than your boss.’
‘He’s not my boss, Robbie, he’s my partner.’
‘Oh, you’re partners. Oh, partners? You’ve bought in? Good! Good! Well, I’ll be pleased to see you at any time. Wait till I lock this one up, then come up to the house and have a cup of tea.’
‘We are . . . at least I am a guest at a birthday party.’ He thumbed over the wall.
‘Oh aye. Well they won’t miss you for an extra few minutes, so come and meet my mother. She’s always grumbling about aches and pains; she’ll be glad to see you.’
As John walked up the long path towards the pretty house at the end of the land he could understand this being a productive piece of ground, judging by the way the plants were sprouting up all around him, and also, why the present owner next door hadn’t wanted to lose it. Oh yes. Oh yes, he could see that all right. But in a way he was glad that this forthright young man was following in his father’s footsteps. He sounded like his forebear: a man it would be good to have with you in a tight corner.
Mrs Annie MacIntosh seemed to him to be well named: she was round, plump, rosy and cheery.
‘Oh, you’re a welcome visitor, Doctor,’ she immediately said to him. ‘We’ll likely get a bit of attention now. You’ve got to be dead and ready for your box before the old ’un will put his neb in the door, and then it’s only to see if you’re screwed down all right.’
John laughed, thinking it was odd why everybody referred to his partner as ‘the old ’un’, when he was only in his fifties. Admittedly though, he did look a bit worn. The battle had taken its toll, and in more places than his leg.
As he sat in the kitchen tasting Mrs MacIntosh’s griddle cakes, hot off the pan, the young fellow was saying to Rosie, ‘Get your shoes and stockings on again; anything less like a young lady I’ve never seen.’
‘Oh you! Then you should keep your animals in order and I wouldn’t have to strip off so
many times.’
John and Robbie exchanged a knowing glance at this and only just managed to suppress what could have been a bellow of laughter at her words.
‘You have a very nice house here, Mrs MacIntosh,’ said John now.
‘Aye, it isn’t bad; and all due to the Colonel, bless him. May he rest in peace. And I’m sure he does, and his lady alongside him. He’s a great miss. He is that, isn’t he, Miss Rosie?’
‘Yes. Yes, he is, Mrs Annie. I miss them both every day, because they were lovely people.’
‘You’re not the only one, lass. You’re not the only one. Well now, another griddle, Doctor?’
‘No. No, thank you. I’m expected to go and eat some birthday cake. Isn’t that so, Rosie?’
‘Oh yes, I suppose so,’ she replied, bending to fasten the lace of a shoe. Then she stood up as she added, ‘and we should be there now, so come on.’ Her tone was casual as if she were addressing an old friend.
‘How are you going to get back? I’m not going over the wall or through that water. You can, but I’m going down the road.’
‘Who said I was going through the water? I’m going down the road, too.’
‘Well, look out,’ said Robbie now to Rosie. ‘There’ll be squalls if you’re caught.’
‘I’ve never been caught yet.’
‘Well, don’t act too clever. Go on, get yourself away.’
John was amused at the attitude between them. They could have been father and daughter, or brother and sister. But if his guess was right, there were different thoughts in Robbie’s mind with regard to this girl, although he didn’t know about her, for she was so young; in fact, childlike in her unconscious gaiety.
Five minutes later they had made their way through a gap in the railings in the pine wood to emerge onto the lawn and were walking side by side, as if they had just done the rounds. And Rosie’s next remark brought his attention back to her sister: ‘Look!’ she said; ‘Beatrice has already started on your chocolates. She’s got a thing about chocolates. She’s always nibbling chocolates, but she never gets fat. It’s a good job her fancy isn’t towards wine or beer, isn’t it? That would be something. Just think of the effect. Oh my!’
The Obsession Page 2
