by Susan Barrie
“Oh, that’s splendid,” Claire replied, looking really pleased. “I was half afraid I might have exhausted him yesterday.”
She accompanied her hostess into the house.
“I’m a little early, I’m afraid,” she apologised, “but I did say I wanted to spend the whole of the day with him. Can I go straight upstairs to his room?” making for the staircase.
But Charlotte took quite an acute pleasure in preventing her.
“As a matter of fact, you won’t have to go upstairs,” she said. “The doctor suggested Mr. Tremarth should get up for a few hours, and he’s coming downstairs. If you like, you can go and sit in the drawing-room until he comes down, and I’ll bring you some coffee. Or you can wander in the garden… as you please! ”
Miss Brown looked displeased at being prevented from ascending the handsome oak staircase. She said something about doctors doing the most extraordinary things nowadays, and elected to go and sit in the drawing-room, to which Charlotte shortly afterwards carried a tray of coffee and some of her own home-made shortbread biscuits. Miss Brown disdained the biscuits, but accepted a cup of black coffee, and in between smoking a cigarette and sipping her coffee let her eyes rove openly round the room and commented on it as being quite a treasure-house.
“You seem to have quite a collection of antiques,” she remarked, “and although I don’t know much about these things I’d say that some of them are valuable. That rosewood desk over there, for instance – ” nodding at it – “looks like Sheraton to me, and I’d say that’s a very valuable picture in the alcove. If you’re ever hard up you can make money on these things.”
Charlotte studied her.
“Mr. Tremarth wanted to buy them – all of them! ” she emphasised.
Miss Brown looked only partially surprised.
“Yes, I did hear he was interested in making a purchase down here in Cornwall,” she admitted. “After all, he’s Cornish, isn’t he?” as if that explained the slight idiosyncrasy. Her light eyebrows crinkled in a frown. “Personally, I wouldn’t choose to have my headquarters in an out of the way place like this, but if you don’t have to remain tied to it it’s not so bad.” She nodded her charming golden head, as if to give emphasis to her thoughts and to convince herself. “Yes; under the circumstances I think I could put up with it, and after all this is a very attractive house.”
“What circumstances?” Charlotte enquired bluntly.
Miss Brown turned her lovely light blue eyes upon her. And then she smiled – very deliberately, and a little provokingly.
“Oh, come now, Miss Woodford,” she said, “you don’t have to have all your i’s dotted and all your t’s crossed, do you? I rather gathered from Richard that you were terribly shrewd and hard-headed – this was when he met you first of all, of course, and before his accident. When you told me just now that he wanted to buy all this – this conglomeration of good and bad furniture and other odds and ends,” waving a hand to indicate the room’s contents, “I knew that he was interested. I told you so last night, as a matter of fact, and you chose to be coy about his offer to buy. But if you want me to tell you why I'm interested “well, you might as well know that I’m not just Richard’s secretary. In fact, I’m not his secretary at all! ” “Oh, really?” Charlotte exclaimed, staring directly and rather fixedly at her.
Miss Brown inhaled a deep puff of smoke, and then exhaled it very gradually.
“I did work for him once – about a year ago,” she admitted. “I wanted a job, and he found me one. But I’ve known him for several years, and I think you can take it that we’re very good friends. In fact -
But at this stage of her revelations Richard himself chose to make his appearance, having somewhat slowly descended the stairs, and Claire rushed at him and seemed to be quite overcome by the sight of him standing on his own two feet once more.
“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Richard, how wonderful to see you up and about again! I was so afraid I’d exhausted you yesterday, but I must have been good for you after all.”
Richard seemed very glad to reach a chair on the terrace, and he seemed even more appreciative when Charlotte stuffed a cushion in behind his shoulders and he was able to lie back comfortably, and
Hannah draped a rug across his knees because of the keenness of the morning breeze.
“This is good,” he declared, as his eyes rested contentedly on the line of blue sea. “This is very good indeed!”
Claire drew another of the comfortable terrace chairs up close beside him, and Charlotte accepted the hint and withdrew into the house. Hannah, a little more loath, apparently, to leave her patient alone with his visitor, retreated after lingering for a minute or so longer, and when she joined Charlotte and Mrs. Ricks in the kitchen she confessed that she was not entirely happy that Miss Brown intended to remain for the whole of the day.
“It’s true that she seems to know him very well, but I’m by no means certain that he welcomes her company as much as one might suppose,” she said.
Charlotte drank a half-cold cup of coffee and argued rather peevishly that she was quite sure Richard was delighted to have Miss Brown sitting with him.
“After all, she’s pretty enough to gladden the heart of most men, and even invalids can be responsive when it’s someone they particularly wish to see,” she opined a trifle dourly.
Hannah glanced at her.
“You think Richard was very glad to see Miss Brown? Well, perhaps you and I get entirely opposite impressions – ”
Charlotte banged her coffee cup down on the kitchen table.
“If you want to know the truth,” she said bleakly, “they’re practically engaged to be married. Oh, I haven’t had it officially from either of them, but Miss Brown was about to let a rather interesting cat out of the bag when she and I were in the drawing-room just now – and she’d ceased taking an interest in my furniture! And if Richard hadn’t put in an appearance when he did I’m quite sure it would have proved to be a very interesting cat indeed… Nothing less than that she plans to marry him one day. Possibly quite soon! ”
“Oh!” Hannah declined to appear very much impressed. “What makes you think that?”
“Because she’d got as far as admitting that they were very special friends… and also I’m quite sure she knows all about Richard’s interest in this house. She was trying to make up her mind whether or not she’d enjoy living here.” “Oh! ” Hannah said again.
“And she seems to think it will be all right if she doesn’t have to spend too much of her time in a tucked away place like Tremarth… all right for holidays, that is. She even thinks she might enjoy living with some of the furniture! The rest she’s not so sure about! ”
Hannah went up to her and quite unexpectedly put an arm about her shoulders. As she gave her a hug she said encouragingly:
“You’re letting your imagination work overtime, my dear! And in any case, there are two sides to everything… and Richard at the moment is absolutely convinced she’s more or less a stranger! ” Charlotte actually seemed to brighten.
“Yes, he does, doesn’t he?” she said more hopefully. “And even if he finds out that he’s committed to marry a stranger, he might not take to the notion too enthusiastically. He might even hesitate – at any rate until he’s got his memory back.”
“And that could take weeks or months – if he doesn’t recover in it in the next few days,” Hannah offered it as her purely professional opinion.
Charlotte looked as if she found the notion of their patient being deprived of his memory for' a considerable length of time surprisingly attractive… even wholly desirable.
But later on that morning, when she went out into the garden to pick raspberries, and returned to the house by way of the terrace, she felt as if a slight chill enveloped her comparatively cheerful spirits as she observed the pair sitting watching the sea. They appeared to have fallen into a state of contemplative silence, and despite the fact that Richard was frowning, as if
the charms of the prospect were just a little bit wasted on him in his present state of invalidism and mental confusion, Claire Brown had an engaging half-smile on her lips,' and there was no doubt about it she found the prospect – possibly, also, of the future – very satisfactory indeed.
Charlotte halted her footsteps, and decided not to pass behind their chairs in case she disturbed them; but although he didn’t turn his head Tremarth must have heard her footsteps, and he called out sharply as she was about to turn on her heel:
“Is that you, Miss Woodford?”
Charlotte answered by hastening her steps until she stood beside him.
“Yes? Is there something you want?” she enquired with a touch of over-eagerness. Tremarth turned his head towards her, and there was an extraordinary expression in his eyes as they met and held hers.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” he replied quietly. “I’d like to go back to my room…”
“Oh, but____________________”
“The sun isn’t as warm out here as I thought it would be, and the glare of the sea makes my head ache a bit. I’d like to go back at once if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me to my room! ”
Claire stood up protestingly.
“Oh, but, Richard darling!… Only a few minutes ago you said how lovely it was out here! And that you could never have enough of watching the sea! And if you want to return to your room I can help you upstairs and tuck you up in bed if you honestly feel you’d like to go back to bed! ”
“Who said anything about going back to bed?”
He actually snapped at her, and Charlotte was so surprised she couldn’t believe it. Claire flushed, and looked momentarily dismayed.
“I don’t think he’s as well as we thought he was,” she said quietly over his head to Charlotte.
Tremarth burst out impatiently:
“What utter rubbish! Just because I said I’d got a bit of a head____________________” But his eyes were frankly appealing to Charlotte. “Anyway,
Miss Woodford has been looking after me for several days – with the assistance of her efficient friend, of course! – and I’m afraid I’ve got used to having her around as a nurse. Miss Woodford – Charlotte!” He smiled at her a little stiffly, as if the muscles of his face were stiff and slightly painful, and every intensely feminine instinct she possessed was touched by the anxious insistence in his eyes. “I don’t need anyone to help me upstairs, but I’d like you to come with me and I’m not going back to bed. I shall sit in a chair in my room.”
“You’re quite sure you wouldn’t like to sit in a chair in the drawingroom?” Charlotte asked.
“No. My own room, if you please – and I’d like to be left alone there until lunch-time! ”
If he had actually attacked her with violence Claire could not have looked more hurt She gathered up her white handbag and gloves.
“Of course, if you’d rather I didn’t stay with you, Richard, I’ll go,” she offered. “Perhaps you’re not as well as we thought, and it might be better if you have a little more rest. So I’ll come back to-morrow.”
“Do,” Richard begged her, no doubt repenting of his harshness and eager that she should not go away feeling too badly used. “I’ll admit I’m a bit of a bear this morning, but tomorrow afternoon! – I’ll be delighted to see you! ”
Claire accepted her dismissal graciously.
“Then good-bye, Richard darling…She advanced towards him, bent and dropped a light kiss on his brow. “Take some aspirin, or whatever sedative tablets the doctor has prescribed for you, and see what a good long sleep will do for you. Despite what you’ve said to the contrary I don’t believe you slept well last night! ”
Richard muttered something that could have been agreement, or otherwise, and Charlotte removed the rug from his knees and followed him across the floor of the drawing-room towards the hall and the foot of the stairs. Claire stood watching them where they had left her alone on the terrace, and as soon as they started to ascend the stairs she went through the hall to the kitchen and demanded somewhat aggressively to know where the telephone was, and whether Hannah knew the number of the taxi-man who was to have picked her up at six o’clock that evening.
Hannah obligingly found the number for her, and afterwards she stood smiling to herself in the middle of the kitchen, and was not surprised when Charlotte came downstairs and informed her that Richard was feeling rather exhausted.
“I’m by no means amazed,” Hannah said. “I’ve a kind of idea that a little of Miss Claire Brown goes a long way, and that despite her ravishing appearance she is not everything the doctor ordered for our patient. In fact, when she comes again I shall have, I’m afraid, to make it clear to her that for the time being Mr. Tremarth is not nearly strong enough to receive visitors for longer than about ten minutes at a time.” Charlotte went over to the old-fashioned kitchen range and started stirring a saucepan that was simmering on the top of it. She was debating whether or not to take Hannah more fully into her confidence… And suddenly she decided that as Hannah was virtually in charge of
Tremarth and responsible for his recovery she had better know the truth. Especially as it involved Miss Brown, and any visits she might think fit to make to the house.
“As a matter of fact,” she said slowly, stirring the contents of the saucepan, “it isn’t going to be entirely up to us whether or not any visitors are allowed – one visitor, anyway. Upstairs just now, while I was making him comfortable in the big chair near the window, Mr. Tremarth made an admission to me. He says that he and Miss Brown are engaged to be married! ”
The admission she did not make was that the revelation had affected her in rather a curious way, actually having a strange numbing effect on her sensibilities and slowing down her reactions, so that she felt peculiarly clumsy as she stood beside the stove and sought to prevent the brew inside the saucepan from burning as it came to the boil. She stirred mechanically, and mentally reminded herself of all the things she had to do before lunch time, but the will to do them with anything like her normal expertise seemed to have vanished. She felt as if someone had given her a thump on the head and she hadn’t quite recovered from the blow.
“Married?” Hannah moved nearer to her, and sniffed the burning saucepan even while she expressed herself as intrigued. “You mean he actually told you himself that he’s engaged to Miss Brown?”
“Yes.” Charlotte turned empty eyes towards her, and her whole tone was extremely flat. “Of course, I was fairly certain that there was something____________________”
“Yes, I think she rather indicated as much herself, didn’t she?” But Hannah wore the air of one who was really extremely surprised, and even in view of what she had just been told by no means convinced. “Was it,” she asked, “a sudden admission that Richard made to you? I mean, did he seem to want to get it off his chest, or did he kind of take you into his confidence? And above all,” with emphasis, “has he the least idea who she is?”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte stared at her, the emptiness still in her eyes. “Of course he must know who she is if he’s going to marry her – ”
“But only a short while ago we were agreed that he was completely safe from feminine machinations because he’s lost his memory,” Hannah reminded her. “Are you trying to tell me that in addition to announcing his engagement he has also recovered his memory?”
“No. No____________________” Charlotte looked startled, and the contents of the saucepan boiled over and she whipped it hastily off the stove. “At least
– that is… I don’t think so,” she concluded uncertainly.
Hannah shook her head at her.
“You mean to say you accepted it that he’s going to marry a woman who is a complete stranger to him, and as a result, of course, he’s wildly, deliriously happy?”
Charlotte looked completely bewildered, and much more uncertain than before. She also looked as if a faint thread of hope lightened her darkness.
“I didn’t s
ay anything about him being wildly, deliriously happy,” she said huskily. “As a matter of fact – ”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think he’s at all happy! ”
“What a novel state of mind in which to contemplate marriage.”
“But it’s true that he – he thinks he ought to marry her – ”
“You make the whole thing sound more wildly romantic than ever, and I think it’s high time I went up and had a few words with our patient.” She regarded Charlotte in a very alert manner. “Can you recall the exact words Richard used to you when he told you he was going to marry Claire Brown?”
“Yes. He said, ‘I understand I’m engaged to be married, Charlotte!’ Apparently the wedding is all fixed! ”
“That settles it,” Hannah exclaimed, and bustled in a brisk, white-aproned, businesslike way over to the door. “I really shall have to have a few words with Mr. Tremarth!”
CHAPTER VII
BUT whether the result of the few words Hannah had with Richard Tremarth was of any particular value to anyone Charlotte was unable to tell, for Hannah was surprisingly uncommunicative about the brief quarter of an hour or so she spent closeted with her patient in connection with a matter that had nothing to do with his health. It seemed to Charlotte that her lips were a little tightened when she emerged from his room to supervise the laying of his lunch tray, and she did say something about maintaining a careful vigilance when he had anyone to visit him.
Charlotte, who had known him to have only one visitor so far, considered this a trifle ambiguous. But as the private concerns of their patient were really nothing to do with either of them, she said nothing further on the subject. Only awaited with a rather curious sensation of rising prickles under her skin the next appearance of Miss Brown.
