Peter Raynal, Surgeon

by Marjorie Moore

  “Hush, darling, hush, it’s not as bad as all that. Pull yourself together, Kay dear! Remember you’re still in our office. Sister Somers can’t behave like an hysterical pro.” Janet gently unclenched Kay’s fingers and putting her hand beneath Kay’s elbow, urged her to her feet. “Go on, dear, get out of here. You say you’ve got a lot to do, you’d better get cracking or you’ll never get half the things done.”

  Kay turned to face Janet and leaning forward kissed her lightly. “You are a dear to be so patient, I have behaved badly, but I feel heaps better now I’ve had my say.” She made an effort to regain her control, and Janet, scrutinizing her, could scarcely believe that the impassioned outbreak of a few moments ago had really taken place. “You’re right as usual, Janet, I have those appointments to face, but I shall feel better when I’ve washed and changed. I shall be thankful too, when those interviews are over. You’d better wish me luck, I shall need it!”

  “Of course I wish you luck!” Janet exclaimed. “Although I’m not sure that wishing you luck is going to do you any good. Perhaps the bed-ridden man will fall for you!” Janet laughed irrepressibly. “Then die, and leave you his fortune!”

  “Janet, how could you!” Kay exclaimed in horrified accents.

  “Well, you’ve just assured me that you’d marry anyone ...” Janet was thankful that the conversation had reached a lighter note.

  “Anyway, I hope that I shan’t be kept waiting, I want to get through as quickly as possible. I’ve promised to have tea with Christine; do you realize I haven’t seen her since Mother’s illness and Raynal is always asking me to call. He says the poor child is so lonely and is wilting under his eyes now that she’s living in town. I simply must get there today.”

  “You get off then!” Janet advised. “I’ll pop in to have a word with your mother whenever I can, so you need not worry about her. Oh, I must go!” Janet ejaculated suddenly. “There’s Martin Grig, that’s his voice, he’ll be looking for me.” Turning towards her friend, she added: “Try to have a bit of a rest tomorrow, I know it’s not easy if you’re not going away, but make the most of your free time, and you’ll feel more cheerful when Monday morning and work comes round again.”

  Kay unexpectedly burst out laughing. “Well, well, wonders will never cease. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you rush off with such haste for any Honorary.” Her eyes twinkled. “Martin Grig is favored!”

  Janet had already reached the door, but she paused, and as though coming to a swift decision, she re-entered the office. “Kay, I must tell you.” Her voice had taken on a serious tone. “I didn’t mean to say anything yet ... you see ...” Janet seemed at a loss for words and Kay, disconcerted by her friend’s manner, was surprised to note that she was blushing furiously. “You see Martin and I are engaged, he proposed last night ... and I’m terribly happy. I’m not just rushing off to attend upon an Honorary.” She lowered her voice. “The seemingly indecent haste is for the benefit of my future husband!”

  “I’m so pleased! The very best of luck and happiness!” There was no mistaking the sincerity in Kay’s manner as she offered her congratulations, then putting her hands on Janet’s shoulders, she pushed her gently towards the door. “Go on, hurry up! You can’t keep either an Honorary or a fiancé waiting!”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As Kay walked down the steps of the large house off Devonshire Place, which had been turned into a fashionable nursing home, her lips were tightly compressed while her disconsolate appearance and absent-minded manner would have conveyed to anyone who knew her the utter depths of her depression. Her interviews so far has been unsatisfactory and had left her shaken. She’d never had experience of any other post than the one at St. Jude’s, to which she had been appointed as a V.A.D. at the beginning of the war, a few months after leaving school, and had no real standard of comparison. She only knew that the nursing homes had appalled her by their lack of all the facilities to which she had become accustomed in a large hospital, and the nurse-companion posts had left her with the lingering uncertainty as to whether she was really required as a nurse or as a kind of superior cook-general! The home she had just left was the only possible offer she had had, she mused, as she quickened her lagging steps towards Wimpole Street; at least it boasted ample equipment—and for herself, reasonable accommodation—but the tiny room in the basement made her bedroom at St. Jude’s seem positively luxurious. But the work? Kay’s smooth brow puckered into a frown. Could she bring herself to nurse and care for the exacting type of patient she would find in such a home? She was so drearily sick of nursing anyone, and the only pleasure she found in her work was in the comfort and happiness she could bring to some of the poor, derelict creatures who came to her ward. This would be totally different and would rob her of the only surviving pleasure she found in her profession. With an effort, Kay threw off the melancholy which threatened to overwhelm her; she couldn’t arrive at Wimpole Street looking the picture of misery, she was going there to cheer Christine, so for the time being her own worries must be shelved. She still had a week before she need decide, she reminded herself, but in her heart she knew there could be no decision, circumstance allowed her little choice.

  As Kay turned the corner into Wimpole Street, a cool wind fanned her cheeks; it wasn’t so warm today and there was already an autumnal nip in the air. Unconsciously her mind flew to Thorndene, it would be so wonderful there now, the leaves would be on the turn and large patches of brilliant-colored dahlias would surround the cottage garden. Involuntarily Kay sighed, how she loved the country; perhaps she’d been unwise even to seek a job in London, when her very being called out for the open spaces she loved.

  Kay wasn’t kept waiting at Raynal’s door, even as her finger dropped from the bell the door was flung open and Christine was hugging her in an ecstatic embrace. “Kay ... oh, Kay, I’m so glad to see you, I’ve missed you awfully, and you’re so late ... I’ve been waiting and waiting, why didn’t you come earlier?”

  Kay disentangled herself gently from Christine’s encircling arms. “Sorry, darling, I had lots and lots to do, but I have come as soon as I could, I have really.” She straightened her hat, which Christine in her wild approach had pushed to the back of her head. “Anyway I need not hurry now, so we’ll have lots of time together, and you can tell me all you’ve been doing since I last saw you.”

  “That was such ages ago!” Christine linked her arm in Kay’s and led her towards the stairs. “Come on up ... tea is all ready and Mrs. Hemming said it was chilly, so she has lighted a fire.” Turning a radiant face to Kay’s, as they mounted the stairs together, Christine continued speaking: “This is a funny house, isn’t it? ... I’d forgotten all about it, you see I’ve only stayed here once, after I was ill, you remember, you stayed too.” Without awaiting a reply, she chatted on. “It’s a funny house because you have to go upstairs to the living room and kitchen. This floor is just consulting rooms ... I’m really not allowed on the ground floor at all, but Mr. Hemming says that there aren’t many patients on Saturday afternoon...” She paused to take breath. “Mr. and Mrs. Hemming—they look after Uncle and now Mrs. Hemming is looking after me too—have a flat in the basement, it’s cosy down there, I’ve been to see it, it’s got a proper bathroom and kitchen and is awfully comfy; I wish Uncle had that one, it’s much more fun than living on an ordinary floor; it’s got a door to the garden too—only a teeny place but it would be so much easier for Biggy.”

  “I’d quite forgotten about Biggy, did you bring him with you then?”

  “Of course I did! He came back in the car with me.” Christine seemed aggrieved that Kay had even considered that she might have left her most cherished possession behind. “Uncle says he is rather a nuisance and of course it is difficult for him to behave terribly well, he isn’t used to living upstairs.” Christine paused as they readied the lounge—it seemed more lounge than study now—then continued: “Take off your hat and coat, Kay, I want you to look as if you belon
ged here, then I can pretend you do, and that you are staying for always and not only for tea.”

  Kay smiled at the child as she obediently removed her hat and coat and sat back in the big armchair, conscious, as she had been once before, of its extreme comfort. “There, is that better?”

  “Lots ...” Christine snuggled down on a stool at Kay’s feet and laid her head caressingly against her knee. “I did miss you terribly when you went back to hospital. I love Mrs. Somers,” she amended hastily, “... but it wasn’t quite the same without you.”

  There was a few moments’ silence as Hemming entered the room with a tray and set it on the table, which was already prepared with cakes and sandwiches. “Anything else, Miss?”

  “No thank you, it .looks lovely and I’m starving,” Christine scrambled to her feet and began to pour the tea with painstaking care. “Is that right, milk and lots of sugar?”

  “Sugar—but not lots,” Kay amended smilingly. Weariness and worry seemed to be gradually leaving her and she was left with a sense of deep appreciation of the restful room, the appetizing tea and, above all, the presence of this child who had become so dear to her. It was not until she had felt the slender body held close to her own, that she had realized how much she had missed her.

  “You know I’ve missed you too, Christine,” Kay admitted. “I’ve been very busy and very worried and I’ve hardly had time to notice anything, but I’ve been longing to see you all the time.”

  “Mrs. Somers is better now, isn’t she? Uncle told me...” Christine broke off, then continued irrelevantly: “I hope I’m being a good hostess—have some more cake—Uncle said I was to be sure to look after you.”

  “I think you are spoiling me,” Kay laughed. “Now tell me all about yourself. Is Mrs. Hemming taking you walks? How are you managing to fill up the day?”

  Once started, Christine reeled off every detail of her stay in Wimpole Street. It didn’t seem too satisfactory to Kay and she could well understand Raynal’s misgiving. Mrs. Hemming was apparently unable to devote much time to the child and most of the day Christine seemed to be left to her own devices. As she had carefully explained to Kay, Raynal’s bachelor quarters only consisted of the one floor flat, with his consulting rooms on the ground floor. There was one living room, the miniature kitchen which Kay had seen on her one night there and in which Mrs. Hemming cooked, but apart from that there were only two bedrooms, so any idea of a resident governess had been out of the question. As Raynal had mentioned during one of their conversations about Christine, a daily governess was not really suitable since, with Mr. and Mrs. Hemming tucked away in their basement flat, there was no one with Christine should he be back late in the evenings or, as on some occasions, unable to get back to town at all.

  “... you see it’s very difficult ... but please, please, Kay, don’t let Uncle send me to boarding school.”

  Kay had been so immersed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even been listening to the greater part of Christine’s long discourse, but the broken tones of her last words quickly claimed her attention. “Don’t worry, darling, nothing is arranged yet ... I expect your uncle will find a solution, I’m sure it will be all right.” Kay’s fingers rested gently on Christine’s pale gold head as it lay so confidently against her knee and her fingers entwined themselves in the soft tendrils of the child’s hair. With a quick effort to change the subject, Kay added: “You are walking beautifully now, I watched you coming upstairs, your uncle must be very pleased with you.”

  “Yes, it doesn’t hurt now . . Christine was not to be so easily put off and immediately returned to the subject so near her heart. “Kay, you wouldn’t let me go back to boarding school, would you?”

  Kay forced a laugh. “Well, darling, it’s scarcely my affair but I am quite certain that your uncle will do his best to keep you here.” She introduced a note of gaiety into her voice. “Why are you worrying about it? Don’t you think it’s very silly to worry about things before they happen—you know they may not ever happen at all.” With a determined effort Kay managed to keep the child off the distressing matter of school and for the next half-hour amused her by retailing every anecdote and any tale she could bring to mind, which might cause a diversion. Her efforts were well repaid and Christine’s laughter was happy and spontaneous, it was amazing to Kay, too, how quickly the afternoon was passing.

  It was nearly six o’clock when Christine scrambled up from the low stool at Kay’s feet. “Ssh...” She put a finger to her lips. “I think I heard the door key, that’s Uncle...” She crossed to the door and again Kay noticed how well she was walking. “I’ll go down and meet him. No ... you stay where you are!” she urged as Kay made to rise. “Promise you won’t go ‘til I get back, I won’t be long, I’ll tell Uncle you are here and he’ll keep you company while I go down and collect Biggy from Mrs. Hemming ... promise you won’t go ‘til I get back, will you?”

  “I’ll wait.” Kay sank back in her chair. She really had no option, it would be somewhat churlish to walk out just as Raynal arrived; at least she’d stay to see him, and as soon as Christine came back she’d make her excuses and leave.”

  “Hello, Kay ... nice to see you here.” Raynal entered the room and grasped Kay’s hand. “Christine has been counting the hours to your visit, you must have had a riotous welcome.”

  “I did!” Kay admitted. “Chris was sweet, and a wonderful little hostess too, I’ve eaten so much tea I can hardly move.”

  “Then don’t try to!” Raynal laughed, as, releasing her hand, he drew up the chair opposite hers. “Quite nice to see a fire, it’s chilly tonight.” He drew his pipe from his pocket and commenced to fill it. “Mind a pipe?”

  “Not a bit.” Kay accepted a cigarette from the box he offered her, then watched him as he held a spill to the fire and, after lighting her cigarette, applied it to his pipe until it drew to his satisfaction.

  “How do you find Chris? ... a bit washed-out looking, isn’t she?”

  “Her leg seems to be splendid, but there isn’t any doubt that country life suited Chris better than London, she seems to be indoors so much too. But then, it’s only natural, as Mrs. Hemming must be far too busy to take long walks.”

  Raynal smiled and Kay was struck with the youthful expression it lent his features. “True enough, she is too busy, but there are many other impediments too—I imagine you haven’t seen the lady?” As Kay shook her head, Raynal continued: “She suffers from adipose tissue and long walks are hardly in the lady’s line.” He became more serious. “She has, however, been a brick to Chris, and I don’t know what I should have done without her.” There was a momentary silence while Raynal drew meditatively at his pipe. “I still haven’t made any definite plans...” He paused again and looked up to seek Kay’s full attention. “I am arranging for the legal adoption of Christine; my sister-in-law is definitely not returning from the States; she is settling down in America; my brother’s home—the house they shared during their brief married life, is now up for sale.”

  “I’m sorry...” Kay sought for words. “I mean about the house, it must have some sentimental attachment for you as you cared so for your brother—but I’m glad about Christine, I think it’s the best solution for her.”

  “I think it’s the only possible thing I can do—although obviously not ideal—a child needs a woman.” He shrugged. “One of those unfortunate things...” He broke off, then added more normally: “You are right about the house, it does rather rankle that it is to be sold. I told you my brother made a hobby of furniture and furnishing, I think I told you he helped me with this room.” For a moment his eyes strayed round the now shadowed surroundings. “ ‘Chudleigh’ ... that’s the name of the house—is just on the borders of Buckinghamshire, it’s small but delightful, he built it to his own plans. Every piece of furniture he chose himself, it’s perfect, quite faultless in every way. In my heart, I feel that it should by rights be Christine’s home, it is what my brother would have wished.”

&
nbsp; “I can understand how you feel...” Kay broke off as she carefully chose her words. “You ... you don’t think that you could afford to buy it?”

  Raynal quickly dismissed the suggestion. “It isn’t a question of money, that is the least important, but even if I buy it so that Christine can eventually come into possession, how am I to run it? There is a caretaker there now, has been there since my sister-in-law left England. I’ve only been down once, but it’s obvious that with such valuable furnishings, it needs to be lived in and looked after properly. There is an excellent day school within a mile and I was wondering whether I should let Christine live there, with a governess, and go to school daily.” He sighed. “It sounds easy, but actually there is more to it than that I’d have to get staff—have to be sure the governess I chose was suitable, probably have to go down there a few nights a week myself—in fact, give up this place and just keep a bedroom for emergencies.” He paused, then added with deliberation: “In fact, there is only one reasonable solution, if I am to safeguard Christine’s interests, I must marry.”