by Sue Peters
'We'll go as soon as you come home from school today. Oh, I forgot, it's half term, isn't it?' Nan had heard her aunt mention something of the sort at breakfast, but she had been too upset by Keir's attitude at the time to take much notice.
'We're off school for the rest of the week,' Timmy informed her in a satisfied voice, and Keir laughed.
'So much for the three R's. But you did say the blackberries were at their best,' he added his persuasion to the boy's.
'We'll go right after lunch,' Nan promised. 'The dinner's easy tonight—Rose is leaving a rabbit hotpot, I can put that on before we go out and it'll be nicely ready for when we get back. It's Rose's afternoon off, she won't be in until about nine o'clock tonight.' She made her plans so that she could spend the maximum time berry picking, and at the same time relieve her aunt of the responsibility of the lively six-year-old for the afternoon.
'It's my half day off too, and there's no surgery this evening.' Black eyes, alight with laughter, begged for permission to join them.
'You can come too, if you change your suit,' Nan relented. 'That one's much too good to spoil, with berry stains.'
'Will I do?' Keir presented himself along with Timmy immediately after lunch.
'You'll do fine.' Nan smothered her surprise. Keir looked at least ten years younger, she thought, and somehow— happy. Or at least carefree, for the time being. It was as if he had shed his personal troubles with his clothes. The ones he had got on now were of good quality, but were old enough to be comfortably shabby, the fawn roll-neck sweater and slacks, and soft casual shoes, girding him in the manner of well-worn favourites.
'They're my rambling gear,' he smiled.
'I didn't know you enjoyed walking? Have you done much of it?' Edwina did not look the type who would stride up hill and down dale in all kinds of weather, but then neither had Keir when she first knew him. It was only now that she was beginning to see underneath what she admitted was a forbidding exterior.
'Not a lot, there wasn't much opportunity,' he said regretfully. 'But now and then, when I couldn't stand town any longer, I'd take myself off to the downs for the day and blow the cobwebs away. I'd settle down again then for a bit, afterwards.'
'Stolen days are always more fun,' Nan agreed happily. 'And you can enjoy them afterwards, too, when you have a "do you remember" session round the fire.'
'I lost out on that bit,' Keir admitted ruefully. 'I always had to go on my own. Edwina didn't like walking.'
So her intuition had been correct. Edwina did not look the outdoors type. But Keir spoke her name quite naturally, now Nan knew about her, and she felt glad. If he could talk about Edwina, her own heart would suffer, but it might ease his.
'Do you really expect to fill all these?' He changed the subject abruptly, and gestured towards the several skips in the back of the Land-Rover, and the three white basins— one each, for picking into—resting inside them.
'We will if you work hard,' she told him firmly. 'And don't eat too many,' she threw the warning at Keir and Timmy impartially. 'We don't want you up in the night with a tummyache.'
The oddity of telling a doctor such a thing suddenly struck her, and she dimpled at him, saw he was grinning back happily as he retaliated,
'You're a slavedriver!' But nevertheless a scratched hour later he regarded his own pile of filled skips with pride. 'I'd no idea there were so many blackberries,' he marvelled.
'The soil hereabouts suits brambles.' Nan was still industriously picking. 'We like them with apples. You can have a bramble pie for your trouble,' she encouraged him cheerfully.
'What's Sauce up to?' Keir resumed his own efforts, then straightened up, listening. The dog had been busily engaged digging among the rabbit burrows in a nearby bank, but now the sounds of his activities had ceased, and instead he was whining dolefully.
'He's got caught up from the sound of it. I'd better go and see.' Nan tipped her basin full of berries into the nearest skip, and hurried in the direction of the noise.
'I could strangle Jake!' she muttered fiercely, seconds later. 'It's one of his beastly snares. Hold still, Sauce!' she tried in vain to keep the struggling mongrel in one spot long enough to undo the loop of the snare that had caught his foot, but his frantic attempts to gain freedom had tightened the wire further round his paw.
'Let me hold him for you.' Keir knelt beside her on the mossy bank and took the dog in his arms. 'Can you manage now?'
'Mm, I think so. Where's Timmy?'
'Busy on the other side of that briar clump. Why?'
'Let's leave him until we free Sauce. I don't want him upset if I can help it.'
'Let me have a look, old chap.' Keir reached down to help her pull the wire noose apart. Carefully he parted the shaggy hair, and gave a small sigh of relief. 'It's all right, he isn't cut. His hair saved his foot. It must have hurt quite a bit, though.' He eased the dog down on to its feet, and nodded his satisfaction as it shook itself vigorously, and trotted off without a limp in the direction of Timmy's tuneless whistle. 'He'll do,' he smiled, and reached down to grasp Nan's hands and pull her to her feet. 'We'd better have a look along the warrens, in case Jake forgot any more of his snares.' He kept her hand in his and walked slowly along the bank, bending to look into the rabbit holes until, satisfied that Sauce had discovered the only snare, he turned back.
'What shall we do with this?' Nan held it up, and he took it from her with a quick frown.
'This!' He wrenched the wire and the sticks apart with a vicious twist. 'I'd like to lay it across that gipsy's back, for upsetting you so !' He noticed her pallor for the first time.
'It's not that—it's—let's go back to Timmy.' She could not explain that it wasn't the snare but the touch of Keir's hand that had drawn the blood from her face. She had known the longing would come back, and it had, with fierce pain. It was better to let him think the snare had upset her.
'I've filled another basin—look !' Timmy held it out for inspection, and peeped interestedly at the thing that dangled from Keir's hand. 'What've you found?' He stood on tiptoe to see'.
'The gipsy left a snare in a rabbit hole, and forgot it.' Keir spoke carefully, not mentioning the dog. 'I've taken it in case it catches an animal and it can't get away again.'
'Daddy burns them if he finds one,' the boy replied. 'What are you going to do with it?'
'Burn it,' Keir followed his lead. 'I'll ask Rose if I can put it in the kitchen grate when we get back.'
'Rose won't be there, she's out until supper time,' Timmy reminded him. 'She's going to the pictures with the policeman. She told me to give Fluffy his feed before I go to bed. I mustn't forget,' he added with some concern.
'I'll remind you,' Nan glanced at Keir amusedly. Rose's secret was out, whether she liked it or not. 'What a lot of berries you've picked,' she hid her smile as best she could.
'It's hot work,' Timmy reacted hopefully.
'It deserves an ice-cream,' Keir responded in the approved manner. 'Let's all have one,' he suggested, boyishly eager. 'What flavour do you like best?' as Nan pulled up outside the village shop, that sold an assortment of everything likely to be needed in a hurry in the small community. 'They'd only got cornets,' he returned a few minutes later bearing his booty, • 'but we're so grubby already I thought it wouldn't matter if we got stickier still,' he grinned happily, handing a chocolate ice to Timmy, a strawberry one to Nan, and keeping the coffee-flavoured one for himself, which he began to lick with obvious relish. 'It's years since I had an ice-cream cornet,' he gloated. Nan looked at him with a stirring of pity. He was wealthy, successful, and yet—his job, or his wife, or both seemed to have combined to put him in a straight jacket, she thought, where even the simplest of pleasures, like a walk on the downs, or an ice-cream cornet, became rareties to be commented on.
'You look as if you're having a party. Do you mind if I join you?' Nan bit into her ice-cream suddenly, making her front teeth ache with the cold of it, her pleasure in their small treat dimmed as Mar
cia strolled across from the Manor to join them. She must have seen them from the gardens, and she had lost no time in coming across.
'Would you like one?' Keir invited generously.
'Goodness, no! I daren't touch ice-cream,' she shook her head vigorously, making her blonde curls dance. 'I have to watch my figure, you know,' she told him archly. 'I do envy you skinny people,' she glanced across towards Nan with eyes that belied her friendly tone of voice.
'Nan isn't skinny, are you?' Timmy piped up indignantly. 'You're not…'
'Hush, Timmy! ' she shushed him into silence, although she could do nothing about his indignant young glare, which he directed at Marcia with embarrassing frankness. For one moment Nan didn't care how Marcia described her. She found her one ambition was to get away and take Timmy with her before open warfare was declared. She had only just resumed peaceful relations with Keir, and nothing, not even Marcia, must be allowed to spoil them, she determined.
'I came across to see if you're free this evening,' Marcia spoke directly to Keir, ignoring Nan. 'I'd like your advice about the new tennis courts. The ones we're going to lay where the spinney is now.' She shot a spiteful look at Nan, whose lips tightened.
'I won't answer back,' she vowed to herself, licking her ice-cream with fierce concentration. Marcia's goading had made her answer back last night, with near-disastrous results.
'I'd be interested,' Keir agreed enthusiastically, 'though I think perhaps David Whitworth or his wife might give you more professional advice.'
'Oh, they'd want the courts to come up to Wimbledon standards,' Marcia laughed lightly. 'I'd much rather have the opinion of a really good amateur,' she flattered.
'Put like that, I can't refuse,' Keir responded gallantly, and Nan's lips curled. Despite his aloof behaviour, he was as prone as any other man to flattery, she thought waspishly. He sounded as keen to talk about the new tennis courts as Marcia. 'Didn't you say dinner would be early tonight, Nan?' he asked her. 'About six o'clock?' He nodded his thanks. 'I could be at the Manor by seven,' he offered Marcia.
'But what about the cat's cradle?' Timmy wailed. 'There won't be time . . .'
'Can we play tomorrow night, old chap?' Keir said coaxingly. 'The siting of these tennis courts is awfully important.'
'Oh, all right.' Timmy sounded disappointed, but he gave way with a good grace, and Nan longed to shout at Keir, 'Important? What's important about the Lisles' wretched tennis courts?' What was the matter with the old grass court? she wondered impatiently. It had always served the previous owners well enough, before the Lisles came. And Marcia's tennis was poor to say the least, so why did she want extra courts, unless it was as a status symbol of some kind? Or simply to spite Nan? She wished now she had not shown her feelings about the fate of the badger setts quite so plainly at the party. Marcia would do everything she could now to make sure her plans for the courts were carried out. Despairingly, Nan discounted Rodney's offer to help. Their father spoiled Marcia even more outrageously than he spoiled Rodney, and if it came to an open battle Nan had no doubt who would win.
She drove home in tight-lipped silence, which the others did not seem willing to break either, Timmy because he was probably still disappointed over Keir's broken promise--Nan refused to remember that Keir had postponed his game with the boy with the latter's permission—and Keir--because he was probably looking forward to walking the Manor grounds with Marcia that evening. The thought spoiled her appetite for the rabbit hotpot, though she noticed Keir ate his share with seeming enjoyment. So much for his protest about the crop shooting at Coton Hill, she thought sarcastically. She did not mention the badgers again; if Keir did not care whether their setts were covered with tarmac it was on his conscience, not hers. She replied to his remarks at dinner in monosyllables, and ignored his comment, 'I shan't be away long,' when he went out later, bending her head over the long straw stalks and starting on her corn dolly as if she was too absorbed in her work to notice his absence.
'You can feed Fluffy now we've washed up,' she dutifully reminded Timmy, and received his assurance as she tucked him up in bed later that his hamster was happily catered for.
'It's a shame, he wants to play just as I've got to go to bed,' he mourned, but Nan hardened her heart, kissed him goodnight, and went downstairs, wondering what Keir and Marcia were doing now. Keir had said he wouldn't be long. Her lips curled. He seemed keen enough to go, and she could not imagine Marcia letting him come away before she was ready, which would probably be late. Keir had said, like Oliver Gray, that he did not like late nights when he was on duty the following day, but he seemed to make an exception when Marcia asked him out, she thought caustically. It was strange, her thoughts led her on, Edwina had been a platinum blonde, if her photograph was anything to go by, and she, too, had the same hard set to her features that Marcia possessed. Keir seemed drawn to that type of woman. She concentrated on manipulating the straw with her fingers, but her weaving was automatic, the dolly taking shape almost without conscious thought, its intricate twists and turns accomplished effortlessly through long practice, while her mind roamed elsewhere.
'That must be Rose now. She's back early, it isn't nine o'clock yet.' The sound of the house door drew a surprised comment from Mary Gray.
'She's been to the pictures with the policeman. Timmy told me,' Nan smiled,, and her aunt laughed.
'Trust Timmy to know. He sees more than we realise,' she said ruefully.
He had seen—and disliked—Marcia that afternoon. The child's clear gaze had been scornful as he looked at the girl from the Manor, and Nan doubted if she could have quietened him so easily if he had known about the badger setts. She herself felt almost as angry with Keir as she did with Marcia. He was indifferent to her own feelings about the siting of the tennis courts, and about the hospital. She felt glad—almost—that he had gone out.
'You've got on well with that.' The object of her thoughts lowered himself down beside her on the sofa, and she started guiltily.
'I didn't think you'd be back yet.'
'I said I wouldn't be long.' Keir looked at her in surprise. 'Who did you think slammed the front door just now—a burglar?' he joked.
'Don't be silly !' The stress of her tangled emotions showed itself in sudden temper, and she snapped at him before she could stop herself.
'Nan said you were interested in seeing our corn dollies woven,' Mary Gray came to her rescue and diverted Keir's attention, and Nan resumed her interrupted work without interest.
Why did I have to snap at him like that? she wondered miserably. Just as they'd declared a truce. She knew why. It was easier to be angry with Keir than it was to love him. It was a sort of armour against her own feelings, like the aloof manner he donned like a cloak, her anger kept her feelings hidden from the world—and from Keir—and her pride intact. It had not seemed necessary when they were black-berrying that afternoon. They had all been children then, not just Timmy. Laughing together, and Keir reaching up to bend the highest brambles within her reach so that she could pick the berries that loaded them, because it was the fruit out of her reach that was the finest. 'It always is,' he teased, but he helped her just the same.
'That will be Rose now.' The house door thudded to for the second time, and Rose's high heels could be heard tapping their way in the direction of the kitchen. Seconds later, they came hurrying back.
'Beg pardon, miss,' she thrust her head through the drawing-room door in obvious agitation. Her hair was in even wilder disarray than usual, and Nan wondered interestedly if that was the fault of the village policeman. 'Did you notice if Timmy fed his hamster before he went to bed, like I told him?'
'Yes, he said he had,' Nan responded, puzzled. 'I reminded him about it,' she added virtuously.
'I suppose you didn't think to remind him to shut the door of the cage properly, as well?' their domestic questioned.
'No, and I certainly didn't go and look,' Nan answered firmly.
'It'd've been better if you 'ad, miss,' Ro
se sounded reproachful. 'The hamster's got out,' she announced. 'He must be somewhere in the house, because the scullery door's shut fast. And unless you want a crying match with Timmy when he gets up in the morning,' she added with grim significance, 'you'll have to find the little beast somehow, and quick!'
CHAPTER EIGHT
'Where on earth would a hamster hide?' Nan edged to the middle of the sofa, and peered round her nervously.
'He might've got just about anywhere, miss,' Rose answered with cheerful unconcern. 'He's only little, and he'd dive under anything and not be noticed.'
'Oh dear, this is a trial,' Mary Gray sighed. 'After yesterday's party I'd hoped for a quiet evening.'
'You and Oliver needn't bother,' Keir stood up and slipped off his jacket with a determined air. 'Come on, Nan. Let's play hunt the hamster,' he invited gaily, his merry look challenging her to refuse.
'Me?' Nan looked up at him, startled and angry. He knew she hated mice. 'I—er ‑' she looked helplessly at the unfinished corn dolly in her hand. His eyes laughed at her, mocking her, once again silently Asking, 'Are you afraid?' She was. She was quaking, and he knew it. She bit her lip, inwardly seething.
'I'll help you look for him, Doctor Raven,' Rose offered calmly. 'I'll have a hunt round the scullery and the kitchen while you and Miss Nan do the other rooms and the hall.' Unwittingly Rose made Nan's decision for her, but still Keir waited, watching her, his look a silent taunt that tightened her lips and brought her chin up in a defiant gesture,
'What are we waiting for?' She stood up and hoped her shaking knees would hold her. 'What do we do if we see him?'
'You scream, and I'll grab him,' Keir laughed, goading her, and Rose laughed too.
'Most likely he's still somewhere in the scullery.' Her remark bolstered Nan's failing courage. 'Though hamsters like exploring,' she shattered it again brutally. 'Keep all the lights on, he'll likely stay in one place then, and you can pick him up without any trouble,' she offered practical encouragement.
