by Sue Peters
Keir remained silent on the drive back. She glanced at him once or twice, but his expression was remote, concentrating on getting their conveyance safely round the hair-raising bends of the narrow lanes. The road accident had made him ultra-cautious.
'I'll go and see Rose about the lunch.' It was much too early, but she did not care. She did not want to linger with Keir when they returned to Minster House. Her desperate need was for solitude, to help her to think.
'I'll come in with you, I can cut through the back of the ' house and go straight into the surgery.' Perversely she could not escape him. He caught at her hand as she ran up the front steps, keeping her pace down to his, and Nan felt her colour rise as they reached the hall together hand in hand, and met Rose's interested stare as she came put of the door from the kitchen, with a large tin of polish in One hand and a bundle of dusters in the other.
'Is there anything you wanted, miss, before I start upstairs?' she asked cheerfully. 'I was just going to dust the bedrooms.'
'Watch you don't catch yourself on the bottom drawer of my dressing-table, Rose,' Keir turned on his way out as a thought struck him. 'It's stuck open, and I was in such a hurry this morning I didn't stop to deal with it before I went out. I'll go and do it now.' He headed towards the stairs.
'You go on to your surgery, Doctor,' Rose waved him away. 'I know the drawer sticks, I heard you bang it the other morning. That's why I'm taking the polish up with me now. A rub of this and it'll slip in and out easy enough, you'll see.'
'Well, if you're sure?'
'Of course I am. Go along with you, now.' Rose was already beginning to 'mother' Keir as she had the much younger John Barclay, thought Nan amusedly. She loved someone to look after. She would miss Timmy when he went home. Nan mounted the stairs-beside her and decided she preferred Rose's cheerful company to her own thoughts.
'If you're turning out the bedrooms, I'll give you a hand,' she offered. Physical activity and Rose's uncomplicated chatter might provide the antidote she needed for the black mood that threatened to descend and engulf her.
'I'll be glad of a hand with Doctor Raven's drawer when I get round to it,' Rose accepted her offer with alacrity. 'But I'm only dusting, otherwise. It's not turning out day, except in young Timmy's room,' she laughed tolerantly. 'You know, he had his Teddy in bed with him, miss. It's on the chair in the morning, but he doesn't know I've seen it under the clothes when I've peeped in to tuck him up last thing.' Her kindly eyes were soft.
'I know.' Nan had seen it too. 'I'm glad I brought it along after all.' She wondered if Rita's little boy would ever have a Teddy of his own, and decided regretfully that it was doubtful. As soon as he could walk properly, he would have to work, if it was only at keeping the fire fed.
'I'm ready to do this drawer now, miss,' Rose called a few minutes later from across the corridor in Keir's room.
'It'll be best to pull it right out, I think,' Nan looked at the long bottom drawer of the dressing-table, which was half out and twisted at an awkward angle. 'I'll see if I can knock this end in a bit, first,' she suggested, 'and then if we both pull evenly from each side—there,' she gave a puff of satisfaction, 'it's gone in a few inches. Now try your end, Rose.'
Rose gave her end a determined tug, and sat back on her heels. 'That's got it level, miss. Now it should come out on it's own.' Before Nan could bend to help her again she grabbed hold of the handles, one on each side of the drawer, and gave a mighty heave. The drawer had no chance. Without resistance it yielded to Rose's muscular arms, and flew from its moorings straight into her lap. She was caught unawares, and rocked backwards on her heels, and the contents of the drawer spilled across the carpet in a bewildering array of clean underwear, and one large, oblong object that hit the leg of a nearby chair with a sharp crack.
'Goodness, whatever's happened?' Rose dropped the underwear she had grabbed and bent to see what had caused the noise. 'It's a picture of some sort,' she satisfied Nan's query. 'Fancy keeping a picture in among your undies,' she said curiously. 'I wonder why he didn't put it on his bedside table, the same as anyone else would have done?' She knelt on the floor looking at it with frank curiosity. 'I dunno what he'll say, me breaking the glass,' she worried. 'I hope he don't shout.'
'If he does I'll shout back at him,' Nan said robustly. 'Cheer up, Rose, it was a pure accident. Doctor Raven must have known the picture was in the drawer when you told him you'd cope with it sticking, so he can't blame you for it flying out like that. If he was worried about his picture getting broken, he should have come up and looked after it himself.' She handed the duster and polish down to her. 'Polish the rails, and I'll pick up the rest of the things. -I'll explain ,how the picture got broken, if you like,' she comforted her. 'And I'll get a fresh piece of glass put in for him. That shouldn't be difficult.' She held out her hand. 'Let me see how bad it is.' She wondered what Keir's taste in pictures might be. Constable? Or modernistic? She felt suddenly curious at this hitherto hidden side of her uncle's new partner.
' 'Ave a look, miss.' Rose handed it over upside down, and turning if on its back Nan found herself gazing, not at a picture as Rose said, but at an expensive studio portrait of what could only be described as an expensive woman.
It was brilliantly executed. The photographer had caught the languid pose of his subject, the haughty tilt of the head, hinting at an arrogance unbecoming, in a woman, thought Nan with biased dislike, and the skilful drape of the evening dress over a figure of model slimness. The heavy-lidded eyes held a sultry look as if their owner should be dark-haired instead of flaxen-fair, but the extreme lightness of her hair could be the result of the hairdresser's art, rather than the hand of nature. Briefly, Nan thought of Marcia, but beside this woman's exquisite grooming the local girl looked crude. Was Keir attracted to Marcia? Nan wondered suddenly. If the photograph was anything to go by, he liked ash-blondes, whether real or synthetic, though the girl in the picture more nearly matched his standard of perfection, she thought impartially. Even her handwriting was exotic. The large, flowing characters impressed her personality on the inscription marching boldly across the bottom right-hand corner of the photograph.
'To my darling Keir. For ever yours. Edwina.'
CHAPTER SIX
'Edwina !'
Nan gazed at the beautiful face, and a cold hand seemed to crush her heart. When Keir had said, 'Let's be friends,' he had meant just that—nothing more. She felt sick, and the trembling that had shaken her earlier by the clearing in the wood began again, uncontrollably, making the picture shake in her hand.
'Are you feeling all right, Miss Nan? You've gone all white.'
Rose's anxious voice broke through her preoccupation, and she realised in a detached, frozen sort of way that she had frightened her companion. 'Sit down a minute, do.' Obedient to the pressure of Rose's hand, Nan sat. 'You've been overdoing it, that's what you've been doing. And then you went out early to look after that gipsy woman, like you did.' Rose chattered on, unintentionally giving Nan time to recover herself.
Work. That's what she would have to do. Work, and forget Keir. No, not forget him. Every line of his face was etched indelibly on her mind, as if it were burned there. But once she was back at Bartholomews, she would have no time to think.
'It's a good job you've still got some holiday left, you'll be able to have a bit of a rest, and pick yourself up before you go back,'
She did not want the rest of her holiday. The wards of Bartholomews suddenly seemed like a sanctuary to Nan. But she could not run away now, as she had done last night. Her relatives would be puzzled and hurt, and once again Keir might ask her, 'Are you afraid?' She was more afraid of herself than of him, Nan thought bitterly. She had been basely betrayed by her own heart.
'I can hear Doctor Gray downstairs, miss,' Rose butted in on her thoughts. 'Shall I ask him to come up? Maybe he could give you something.'
'No, there's no need, Rose, really. It was dashing off first thing to see Rita, I expect. I didn't stop for m
uch breakfast,' Nan ad-libbed urgently, before Rose could call her uncle, whose work had given him a sharper eye and a keener perception than her red-haired companion, and he might want a better explanation than she was prepared to give of why she was crouched white-faced on the floor of Keir's bedroom, surrounded by Keir's scattered underwear, and cradling a photograph of what was in all probability Keir's fiancée, in her trembling hands. The humour of the situation suddenly struck her, and pride came to her rescue.
'You finish putting these things away, Rose.' She put down the photograph carefully on the dressing-table top. 'I'll tell Doctor -Raven about the glass at lunch time,' she promised. 'And by the time you come downstairs again, I'll have coffee and some cake ready for us both.' She made her explanation of too little breakfast sound plausible.
'Oh, Nan, there you are.' Oliver Gray hailed her as she reached the hall. 'I can't find Mary.'
'She's gone into Hopminster shopping, and taken Timmy with her.'
'Tell her Keir and I won't be in to lunch, will you?' Her uncle looked harassed. 'There's a special meeting of the Planning Committee been called for this afternoon. Apparently a Government Minister will be coming down here soon to see about the hospital, and what they call listed buildings.'
'That means Ma's cottage,' Nan nodded.
'I can't think why they don't say so in plain language,' Doctor Gray said testily. 'Anyway, Keir and I mustn't miss this meeting. They're going to discuss what case to present to the Minister when he gets here, and we want to make sure they present the case we want them to,' he said determinedly.
The one they wanted? Both of them? Again Marcia's face floated across Nan's mental vision, and again she wondered. Which side would Keir support? The object of her thoughts appeared, hurrying through the door to join her uncle, and she spoke tentatively, suddenly unsure of how to tell him about the picture frame. What would she say if he said, 'What picture?' The one of your fiancée?—your girl-friend?—Edwina? He wouldn't ask, she assured herself, gaining courage. He must know what picture, and where he had left it.
'Rose has polished your drawer runners, it should slide in and out easily enough now.' Why didn't she tell him straight out? she asked herself angrily, vexed at her own hesitation. It was an ordinary, everyday photograph such as anyone away from home might keep with him. She knew in her heart it was not, but ...
'Thank Rose for me, will you?' Keir's attention was on something her uncle was putting in his briefcase, and he spoke abstractedly. 'Here's that other document you were looking for,' he handed a headed letter to his partner, his mind obviously not on Nan and her problems, and Oliver Gray closed his case with a snap.
'Let's go. If too many of the other side get there before we do, we might find our pitch queered,' he predicted sourly.
'Keir...?'
'Wish us luck!' Her uncle's voice drowned her own and Keir did not hear her. He hurried after the older t man through the front door, and the Rover saloon started up smoothly. Nan watched the brake lights wink at her derisively as he slowed at the gate, and then the sleek lines of the big car disappeared with a soft purring sound out of sight along the lane.
'Minster House.'
The telephone would choose to go just as everyone had disappeared, Nan thought crossly. If it was urgent she could always contact her uncle or Keir at the hospital, but she hoped fervently that no one had decided right at this minute to have a baby. The meeting with the Planning Committee was too important. Her uncle would not want to miss it, and if he had to leave Keir there on his own he might not be prepared to put forward his partner's point of view. Nan sighed, and picked up the receiver resignedly. If only she could trust Keir to be loyal!
'Hello, Nan. It's Marcia here—Marcia Lisle,' the shrill voice repeated impatiently as Nan said stupidly, 'Who?'
'Sorry, Marcia,' she apologised swiftly. 'I was daydreaming. Is something wrong?' She was alert enough now. Perhaps someone was ill at the Manor. Marcia did not usually telephone her unless she was at a loose end, she had little use for the company of her own sex under normal circumstances.
'Oh, nothing like that,' the other girl laughed. 'Though I must say I wouldn't mind going down with a bug if it meant calling Keir in,' she giggled. She made it sound as if he was the local plumber. Nan felt impatient in her turn. 'It's Rodney's birthday,' Marcia went on, 'he's nineteen and Mother's decided to throw a party for him.' It did not take much for the new mistress of the Manor to want to throw a party, Nan thought resignedly. Mrs Lisle's only difficulty was to get the local people to attend her functions. The Lisles' friends had alien tastes to the people who had partaken of hospitality at the Manor under its previous owner, and after one experience of the over-loud radiogram, over-lavish hospitality, and immoderate behaviour of the new owner's bosom companions, they drifted quietly away, and politely declined further invitations. 'We thought it would be a good opportunity for Keir to meet everybody.' Marcia spoke as if they were his guide and mentor. 'Is he there?' she asked eagerly. 'I'll ask him myself. The invitation includes you as well, of course,' she added as an afterthought.
'Thanks very much!' Nan tried to keep her feelings out of her voice, and hoped she succeeded. 'Keir's at the hospital, though, with Uncle Oliver. They've only just gone.' She felt an unworthy glow of satisfaction at the thought. 'Your father will be going as well, I expect. There's an emergency meeting of the Planning Committee.'
'Oh!' Marcia sounded deflated, and Nan tried valiantly not to feel pleased. 'Well, Dad's bound to tell him when they meet up, he knows about the party,' she said sulkily. 'We'll see you about seven, then?'
'It'll be a bit later, I expect,' Nan apologised beforehand. 'Keir won't be free until the evening surgery's over,' she explained.
'Lisle roped Mary and me in, as well,' Oliver Gray said disgustedly when Nan told him of Marcia's call on his return. 'It's like trying to say "no" to a bulldozer,' he grumbled ill-humouredly.
'Never mind,' his wife placated, 'I'll arrange for Rose to give the Manor a ring when we've been there for an hour.' She and Timmy had met the two doctors on their way back home from the bus stop in the village, and conveniently begged a lift, so they arrived already primed with the invitation, and so far as Mary Gray was concerned, a well thought out excuse as well. 'Rose can say there's a baby on the way, or an appendix or something,' she smiled. 'I'm sure Nan and Keir wouldn't mind staying on at the party to cover our absence,' she appealed to their good nature.
'Oh, very well.' Only slightly mollified, Oliver Gray got ready for the evening surgery. 'Though I shall want something decent to eat before I go,' he thought up another objection. 'I'm no good at drinking those weird concoctions the Lisles seem to think up, and nibbling, at those ridiculous bits of things stuck on sticks.'
'You shall have your usual dinner, but a bit earlier,' his wife promised soothingly. 'Now get along, both of you,' she shooed her husband and Keir in the direction of the surgery, and unwittingly foiled Nan's second attempt to tell him of the broken glass in the picture frame. She would have to wait until later, now, when he was on his own..
'What shall you wear for tonight, Nan?' her aunt annexed.
her. 'Come upstairs and help me to choose something suitable. People at the Lisles' parties seem to be rather boisterous types,' she said unhappily. 'The last time we were there I had two drinks spilled on my dress in one evening.'
'Why not wear your grey? It's washable, and it always looks nice.' With her snow-white hair and vivid blue eyes, the doctor's wife had an elegance that was queenly. 'I'll wear my jade one.' That, too, was a man-made fibre, and would easily lose any stains. Nan had only been to one or two parties at the Manor since the Lisles took over, and she had disliked them for the same reason as her aunt.
It was after eight o'clock when they finally arrived at the Manor. A longer evening surgery than usual, and Oliver Gray's obstinate reluctance to hurry over his preparations for a function he did not want to attend anyway, combined to deposit them in an apologetic rush in front of
their host a good deal later than even Nan had predicted. The problem of a suitable present for Rodney caused further delay until Mary Gray resolved the situation in her usual practical manner.
'I've never known a nineteen-year-old yet who isn't saving for something,' she laughed. 'Give the boy some money, Oliver, and say it's from all of us. He might like some of his own, that his father hasn't handed out,' she added with shrewd insight, and coaxed the still protesting doctor into his car, until he eventually found himself accepting a drink from his host that further appeased him when he found it to be a very good sherry, and not one of the weird concoctions that he dreaded.
'Come and meet my wife, Raven.' Lisle senior became the expansive host. His greatest ambition was for the local people to call him Squire, the same as his predecessor. They never had yet, not even in joke, but he still hoped. 'Minnie, here's our new doctor.' Nan looked away, her eyes seeking familiar faces among the assembled company, and finding few. She had no wish to witness Keir's reaction to Mrs Lisle. She had seen her effusion before. The plump, beringed hands reaching out to grasp those of the newcomer; she was always especially welcoming to a new man, thought Nan indifferently. Her heavily made-up face would be wreathed in what she fondly hoped was a dignified smile. Nan winced as she caught sight of her dress. The material and cut were expensive, the pattern, with its large floral decoration, was a disaster on the plump form it clothed, but its wearer seemed happily unconscious of anything untoward. Her bright, brittle voice prattled on.
'It's so nice that Marcia and Rodney are making nice friends. There aren't many really nice people for them to know, round here…'
At least Keir will know he's regarded as nice by the Lisles, thought Nan with a spurt of amusement that she hoped did not show in her face.
