A Country Affair

by Rebecca Shaw

  Miriam kissed Joy and dashed away to collect Perkins for his walk.

  THE news of Scott’s departure was the talk of the practice all morning and Joy had to confess to looking forward to having lunch with Duncan to get some respite from it. He appeared at ten minutes to twelve, wanting the keys to the car so he could leave his walking boots in there and change into the smart shoes he’d put in the trunk as Joy was leaving for work.

  “Hello, Miriam, they’ve had to call in the support troops, then?”

  “Duncan!” She went around the desk and gave him a big hug. “How nice to see you. All hands to the pumps this morning, but your dear wife is close to solving our problem. The agency is sending a temporary around for an interview this afternoon. They’ve faxed his details and he seems very suitable.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I don’t know how we would manage without her.”

  “Is she ready for lunch?”

  “Go and see for yourself.”

  “Joy! Ready?”

  Joy slammed the filing cabinet drawer shut saying, “Get me out of here, quick.”

  “You’ll need your coat. It’s cold.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The sandwich bar down the road. We’ll walk.”

  “I’ll put up with that if you’ll take me somewhere nice tonight. I shall need a bit of cosseting after the day I’ve had.”

  “Agreed. There wasn’t a letter for Kate this morning, then?”

  Joy shook her head. “I can’t be long. I’ve still got to talk to her. What a shambles. I’m worried sick.”

  “Forget it for a while.”

  The brand-new, up-to-the-minute chromium and red-leather transformation of the sandwich bar took Joy’s breath away. “This is definitely not how I remember it! It was so shabby before and the name’s changed. Ned’s Diner, no less. You knew, did you?”

  “Yes. Thought we’d give the new management a chance.”

  “I do like it. Very ‘New York,’ I must say. Do they do anything as mundane as a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich with a caffe latte?”

  “Let’s see.” Duncan picked up the menu. “They do. They do.” Joy found a seat and Duncan went to order at the counter.

  When he came to sit with her, he asked, “So, you haven’t spoken to Kate yet?”

  “No, and I must be back before one. Whether she knows or not, I can’t leave her to all the tittle-tattle that’s going on. The walls are bulging with speculation.”

  “Complete change of subject. I’ve discovered who my mystery walker is.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. He was waiting for me this morning. I knew something had happened because he wasn’t wearing his business suit. He starts Monday in a new job. It’s transformed him.”

  “Never mind about the transformation. Who is he? Someone we know?”

  “You’ll never guess.” Duncan deliberately paused before he told her. “It’s Adam Pentecost, Kate’s old boyfriend.”

  Joy’s face was alight with amazement. “No! Adam Pentecost! Of course. Of course. Why didn’t I realize? Of course it was him. Well?”

  “He’s going to work near Weymouth for a company that all but fell on his neck with delight. He is the answer to their prayers, apparently. He’s got an increase in salary and he’s going to look for a flat or a room or something in Weymouth and leave home.”

  “Thank heaven for that. It’ll do him a power of good.”

  “He hasn’t told his mother he’s moving out yet, though. She could be a big stumbling block.”

  “It’s only what she deserves by the sound of it. I’m so pleased. I wonder if Kate knows. Fancy it being Adam! Kate will be pleased. At the very least it will have restored his self-confidence, which he was badly in need of, and it is a plus for her because it will get him off her back. Poor Kate. I feel so sorry for her about Scott’s leaving. I just don’t know how far she felt committed to him. She’d been fending him off for weeks, but I’ve an idea, well, in fact I know that . . .”

  “Eat your BLT. Stop worrying about her; young ones have far more resilience than we credit them with. They get very badly hurt, but bounce back much more easily than older people do.”

  “Yes, but she’s such a fine girl, I hate to think of her being hurt.”

  THE subject of Joy’s concern was at that moment stuck in traffic on her way to work and also thinking about how hurt she felt. He’d never rung and he wasn’t in today, and he was on call all weekend and she couldn’t understand his silence. The phone at his flat was working, she knew, because she’d finally given in and rung him last night. But there’d been no reply to her calls and the answering machine was switched off, which was very odd indeed when he knew perfectly well she’d have gladly lost her all to him the night before last.

  The line edged a little nearer to the road works.

  After an offer like that how could he now ignore her? But he had. Unless he’d been involved in an accident? Maybe he was lying in a hospital bed somewhere, unconscious. Or worse still, dead. Her mind raced through all the possibilities.

  The line moved forward another ten yards.

  But he’d have to be around at the weekend because he was on call. That was it. He’d decided to go to visit a friend or something for a couple of days and he’d be back tonight to start his weekend on call. Of course! That was it.

  She could see the temporary lights now, at red yet again.

  Although he could have let her know. Maybe her offer to make love for the first time in her life had made this free-as-air Aussie feel the leg irons closing around his ankles and he was warning her off with his silence. That was it. She was going too fast for him. What a fool she’d been.

  The temporary lights changed to green and she slid forward again.

  Too fast for him! Whom was she kidding?

  This time she got past the road works and was pulling into the car park, unfortunately ten minutes late. And there, parked for all to see, was his Land Rover. He was here! Thank heavens. Her heart leaped into her throat. Waves of vibrant joy surged through her veins. She punched the dashboard with her fist and shouted, “Yes!” Wherever he’d been, he was back. Thank God. The dear, darling man. Despite her overwhelming relief, she decided to be as cool as cool could be in front of him. Not to punish him, no, but to let him know that she, too, knew how to handle a relationship. Oh yes! The thought of him—of smelling his smell; of seeing his bright, approving eyes; hearing his footfall—pushed up her pulse rate and she walked to the back door desperately trying not to look too eager.

  Kate deliberately went straight to her office, hung up her coat. Speaking to no one, she switched on the computer and began the end-of-month figures. She’d print them out too before she took one single step toward seeking him out. But she’d been working only about ten minutes when Joy put her head around the door.

  “Oh! You’re here.” She closed the door behind her and sat down.

  “Look! I’m sorry I was late, but there were road works and it took ages. I’ll set off earlier tomorrow.”

  “That’s all right; it happens to the best of us.” Joy studied her face and could see none of the anguish she would have expected to see if Kate had already heard the news. “I had a letter this morning at home.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. From Scott.”

  Kate’s heart lurched and she hoped Joy hadn’t noticed. “From Scott?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “What about?”

  “Well . . .”

  “He’s here. Why should he need to write?”

  “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  “No. Should I have?” This curiously stilted conversation felt as though it was turning into the overture to some bad news.

  “I would have thought so.” Out of her pocket she took Scott’s letter and handed it to Kate. “Here, this is his letter. Read it.”

  “Should I?”

  Joy nodded. “Yes, pl
ease. It explains something.”

  She’d make a good poker player, thought Joy. Her face had gone white, but apart from that there was nothing in Kate’s demeanor to indicate that she’d received a mortal blow. She remained absolutely still, read it through twice, then slowly and neatly folded it and handed it back.

  She didn’t speak for almost a minute and then said in a voice not at all like her own, “You can feel underneath what he’s written that he’s not coming back, is he? He was supposed to be on call all weekend.”

  “Mungo’s covering that. Like you I feel that he won’t be back. With Zoe having wound down her involvement until after the baby, we are terribly shorthanded. At three I’ve got a temporary coming for an interview. Someone who’s free to begin on Monday. So we’ve not been entirely annihilated by his departure. I can’t begin to imagine what really made him go in such a tearing hurry. He doesn’t say, you see, except about his mother. That seems genuine enough.”

  Kate didn’t answer.

  “I wondered if he’d said something to you about his mother?”

  “No.”

  “It’s come as a considerable shock.”

  Kate agreed. “Must get on, though. Going to print out the end-of-month figures.”

  “Oh, right. I’ve put the kettle on. Cup of tea?”

  “No. Thanks all the same.” I wish she’d go! Just go and leave me alone.

  “I’ll leave you to get on, then. We shan’t need you on reception until Stephie goes at four. Miriam’s been helping to free me to sort out a temporary. She’ll cover when Mungo and I interview this one at three.”

  “Right. I’ll press on, then.” Please go. Please. I can’t hold on any longer.

  “I’ll bring some tea in later.”

  “Thanks.”

  If he had to go, the only good thing that’s come out of this is my eternal gratitude to Miriam for taking Perkins out for his walk when she did. No. Damn Miriam for coming out when she did. At least I would have known what it was to have been loved by him. Now I’ll never have the joy of it. He would have been a tantalizingly passionate lover, she was sure. The tears were just beginning to come when the door burst open and in came Lynne.

  “Have you heard? Bunty’s flipped her lid. It’s all that Scott’s fault. Mungo’s operating and Sarah One’s having to take over assisting him and she’s shaking like a leaf because he frightens her to death. Bunty’s mother’s going to come to take her home. Apparently it was Scott’s baby after all and she’s still carrying a torch for him. We all reckon he won’t be back. Sorry about his mother and all that but . . . Good riddance, I’d say, wouldn’t you? Catch me going to pieces over a man. I’d keep out of Mungo’s way if I were you, by the way; he’s furious at all the upset. Are you all right? You look quite flushed.”

  “I’m fine. Got to press on.”

  “Oh, all right, then. Just thought I’d keep you up to date with all the news. You should have been here this morning! Talk about rumors flying around, the air was thick. Aren’t you glad you didn’t get involved with him?”

  “Oh yes. Not worth it, is it?”

  “Mind you, he was a gorgeous hunk. Well, everyone thought so, but I saw through him. All right for a quick fling, but he’s the type to run a mile if a girl began to get serious.” Had Kate been looking at her, she would have seen a malicious grin on Lynne’s face. “Must press on, as they say.” She shut the door behind her with a cheerful slam, which Kate felt go straight through her, so fragile did she feel.

  For fully ten minutes Kate sat quite still with her hands gripped tightly together to stop them shaking, her head bowed, trying to come to terms with Scott’s departure. Not a word from him to me. Not a word. How could he do that to one he said he loved? How could he? His last words to her were, “Love you.” Where on earth had she gone wrong? To go without a word. If he couldn’t face her, he could have written to her. But he hadn’t, and she’d learned her first lesson about love. Never ever again would she allow herself to become so hopelessly involved. She had to get through the next few weeks somehow and she would. She wouldn’t let a setback like this ruin things forever. No. She’d do as he had done and walk away without a backward glance. Some chance.

  The afternoon dragged on. Too late she found she’d printed out the September figures in error and had to begin again. The printer paper got itself into a ruck and she had almost to dismantle the machine before it ran true. Altogether, an afternoon like today she never wanted again.

  At five past four she was on the reception desk feeling like death because all the time in her mind’s eye she could see Scott: his blue eyes more blue, his tan deeper than ever, his streaked hair more blond than she could have imagined, his tender mouth on the verge of a smile. He’d been so handsome. Such fun. Like no one she’d ever met before or would again. But Kate was brought back to earth by the hurly-burly of the afternoon clinic, so the pain and the heartbreak had to be put on hold for the time being.

  SHE drove home a different way to avoid the road works and Mia was just beginning to worry when she heard Kate opening the front door. “Why, Kate! You are late! I was starting to worry.”

  “Hello. The clinic was so busy we overran and then we had to tidy up. Then I came home a different way to avoid the road works and all in all I’m tired out.”

  “You look it too. Sit down. I’ll soon have your meal heated up. Gerry, get Kate a drink. She needs perking up.”

  “Hello, love. Long day? Gin and tonic?”

  “Thanks, Dad; yes, I will.”

  Kate slumped down on her chair at the kitchen table and patiently waited to be ministered to.

  “I think I’ll join you. What about it, Mia?”

  “Yes, please, after all it’s Friday. Why not?” Mia could see that something was wrong with Kate but couldn’t for the life of her put a finger on what it was. Maybe when she’d eaten she’d be able to tell them.

  Kate drank down the gin in a trice but poked her food about without appetite and made a poor show of eating it.

  “Kate! That’s your favorite—my chicken and vegetable pie. Are you not well?”

  “You remember Scott?”

  “Well, of course we do, don’t we, Gerry?”

  Gerry nodded. “How could we forget? Such a nice chap. He really enjoyed working my train set. We’ll have him around some time and he can have another turn.”

  “He’s gone back to Australia.”

  Mia sat back, astounded. “Back to Australia! But you watched him deliver that calf only, what, two nights ago. How can he have gone?”

  “Well, he has.”

  “Why? Did he say?”

  “He sent a letter to Joy. He says his mother is seriously ill and he’ll be back as soon as he can, but we all think he won’t.”

  Anxious to ease Kate’s obvious pain, Mia babbled, “But if his mother is ill, he had to go. He’ll be back, surely, as soon as he can?” She saw she hadn’t convinced Kate. “Perhaps he got fed up with the English weather; just needs a break from it. It’s been diabolical recently. Perhaps all he wanted was some sun and warmth. Or maybe he wanted to see all those blessed sheep. Homesick—perhaps that was it. You can get it bad, homesickness, so bad you feel physically ill. Or perhaps he longed for all those wide-open spaces they have in Australia; here on this island in comparison we’re so cramped.” Mia stopped thinking up any more reasons to make sense of Scott’s departure when she saw she wasn’t lifting Kate’s spirits. “Anyway, what’s done’s done.”

  Gerry, from behind his newspaper, said, “Not right that, leaving without giving notice. ’Spect it’s left them in a hole.”

  “No. We’ve got a temporary starting Monday and Mungo’s doing his weekend for him.”

  Gerry lowered his paper. “Surprising how the waters close over your head when you leave somewhere. You think you’re indispensable, but in no time at all that phrase ‘Oh, we shall miss you!’ is as hollow as a drum. Never you mind about him, Kate, there’s plenty more fish in the sea f
or someone like you.”

  Mia saw the heartache in her eyes when Kate looked at her briefly before answering her dad. “I expect there are, but it’s not much comfort at the moment.”

  “Have your dessert, love. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something, and you always like my treacle sponge.” Mia was rewarded with a pale kind of smile. She whipped the treacle sponge into the microwave and had it in front of Kate, complete with custard, before she could change her mind. Kate plodded her way through it right to the last spoonful of custard, leaving the really treacly bit to the last as she always did.

  “Thank you for that. I’ll take my cup of tea upstairs with me and finish it in bed. I’m tired.”

  “Of course, love, you do that. And sleep late in the morning. You’re not working tomorrow. Good night.” Mia got up, gave her a kiss and sat down again, remembering how Kate had said she thought things were moving along with Scott. Obviously, this very day her whole world had been turned upside down.

  When she’d gone, Gerry said, “It’s not like her to go to bed this early; it’s only half past eight. What’s the matter with her?”

  Mia sighed. “Oh, Gerry!”

  NEXT morning there were letters for Kate and Mia, along with a parcel for Gerry. Mia tore hers open and to her surprise and delight found in it the confirmation for a commission: a miniature of a baby at the request of doting grandparents willing to pay a premium. She handed Gerry his parcel and paused for a moment to study Kate’s letter. She didn’t recognize the handwriting and couldn’t read the postmark because it was too smudged.

  She’d take it up along with Kate’s breakfast. She had the tray already laid, so all she had to do was make a pot of tea for her.

  “Morning, Kate. There’s a letter and I’ve brought your breakfast up.”

  Kate’s bedside table was cluttered with textbooks and papers, so Mia put the tray on the carpet while she opened the curtains a little to let the light flood in.

  From under the duvet a cautious question came: “Who’s the letter from?”

  “I don’t know, love. I can’t recognize the handwriting.”

  But Kate could. She’d seen that writing on countless notes she’d typed into the computer at the practice. That was Scott’s writing.