by Betty Neels
So now she was doing her sums again: such a discouraging exercise that she put her head down on her arms and cried. It didn't matter, there was no one to see, only Betsy.
The professor walked up the garden path and, since the door was open, walked in. After a moment he crossed the living room and went into the kitchen, standing in the doorway looking at Katrina's downbent head.
He said quietly, `Katrina?' and she looked up and then sat up quickly.
Her face was blotched with crying, but she blew her nose defiantly, wiped her eyes and wished him a polite good morning in a voice which didn't sound like hers at all.
`A cup of tea?' He appeared not to have noticed her tears and went to put the kettle on, turning his back so that she had time to scrub at her face before he came and sat down opposite her.
`I was told at the hospital this morning. I'm very sorry.'
`You've been away? You didn't know? You got back this morning?'
`Yes.'
`It must have been very early.' Katrina smiled then, and he saw that despite her sadness her spirits hadn't been broken. She said then, `You came.' She sat up very straight. `Aunt Thirza would have thanked you for that; I thank you too. You must be tired... and hungry.'
He got up and made the tea and put it, with mugs, milk and sugar, on the table. He said casually, `I called in at home on my way. Mrs Peach has packed up a meal for us. While we have it you shall tell me what happened.'
He studied her face. `Talking about it will go a long way towards making you feel better.'
She poured their tea and nodded. `Yes, I'm sure you are right. Where have you been?'
He told her: a gentle flow of pleasant talk, making everything seem normal again, so that for the time being she forgot all about her uncertain future.
He fetched the food presently, and released the patient dogs, having first prudently set Betsy on top of the kitchen cupboard. Katrina set the table and unpacked the food while the professor saw to the wine, before taking a bowl of water into the garden for the two dogs, and then carved the chicken.
It was all so ordinary, such an everyday way of living, thought Katrina, arranging salad, and the professor, watching her, read her thoughts. But he was careful not to be too friendly; she was unhappy and lonely now, but in a little while, when she had got over her grief, she would remember that she didn't like him overmuch. He was surprised to discover that he, on the other hand, liked her a good deal more than when they had first met.
They were both hungry, and the food was delicious, and Katrina, tossing off a second glass of wine, said happily, `I feel quite different. I've been silly feeling sorry for myself. Aunt Thirza would have been ashamed of me.'
The professor buttered the last roll. `You intend to live here?' he asked gently. `I don't wish to pry, but you are in comfortable circumstances?'
Katrina answered promptly-too promptly. `Yes, of course. Perhaps later on I shall look for something to do, but not until the summer is over.'
`Your family?'
She told him then about the aunts and uncles and cousins, taking care to make it all sound rather amusing. `And I have such a nice solicitor to take care of everything for me.'
She hoped that sounded convincing. It had been kind of him to come and see her, especially as they hadn't been particularly friendly, but she had no wish to be beholden to him or to ask for his sympathy. And yet she remembered that she had wanted him to come when Aunt Thirza had died. Well, she was her old self again; she would manage without anyone's help or pity.
Her thoughts made her stiffen up, and the professor noticed that. He thought that her reply to his question had been glib, but he had no reason to doubt it. It seemed a little strange that she should be so vague as to her future, but of course there was time enough for her to alter her plans. Perhaps to live here in this little cottage among her friends and where she was well-known was the best thing for the moment. Anyway, it really was no business of his.
He sensed that she wanted him to go. Without seeming to make haste, he helped her put the remains of their meal back in the box, whistled to the dogs and went out to the car. Katrina went with him, and when he had stowed the box and the dogs she offered a hand.
`Thank you for coming,' she said in an over-bright voice. `I'm sorry I was so silly-there's been a lot to do, and I dare say I'm a bit tired. I'm really looking forward to the rest of the summer. I hope...' What did she hope? She had no idea. `You'll be glad to get home. Thank you for helping Aunt Thirza. I'll always be grateful. Goodbye, Professor...'
He took her hand. `You are most fortunate to have people you know living near you, and so many friends. Enjoy your summer. I'm sure you will find something you want to do later on-or you might marry.'
She said bleakly, `I don't know anyone-any men, that is. Only married ones or elderly gentlemen.' And then at his intent look she added brightly, 'There's always Mr Right waiting round the corner, isn't there?'
She laughed, to let him see how cheerfully she viewed the future.
`Indeed-especially if he is looking for a pretty girl with her own home and the means to live in it in comfort.' He smiled then. `Take care, Katrina, not to marry a fortune hunter.'
She watched him drive away. She wouldn't see him again, of course. She would never know if he married, if he was happy. Perhaps Dr Peters would hear of him from time to time; she could always ask him. But there would be no point in doing that. He had come into her life on a mere whim of Fate, and gone again just when she had realised that she liked him after all.
She went back indoors, fed Betsy and, since it was far too early to have supper, made a pot of tea and sat down again with pen and paper. She would make a list of the things she could do, and take care to study the local paper each week and see what kinds of job were advertised. She was a bit limited; it would have to be near enough for her to bike to work and it would have to be something within her scope.
Children? she wondered. Looking after someone elderly? Helping on a farm? The last possibility pleased her. There were farms all round the village; there must be potatoes to dig, sprouts to pick, soft fruit...
Immensely cheered, she went to bed early. She could afford to spend another month or six weeks being idle, seeing her friends, helping with the bazaar and fete, allaying the doubts of some of the older friends of her aunt, who suspected that there was very little money, and then finding work with the casual labourers.
That would do for a start, she told herself sleepily. If she could make enough money to keep her going through the winter she could study at home and go to evening classes in Warminster, and then, armed with a diploma or two, get a secure job-typing, or being a receptionist, or a dental nurse. Her head full of ideas, she slept.
She woke early, and her first unbidden thought was of the professor, driving himself up to St Aldrick's. She told herself that there was no point in thinking about him. He was someone from the past; it was the future which mattered now.
CHAPTER FOUR
DRIVING home, Professor Glenville had thought about Katrina. He had had every intention of taking her back to his home for supper but she had made it very obvious that she would have refused to come. For a little while she had seemed happier, and then, when he had mentioned her plans for the future, she hadd answered him in a voice which had dared him to ask any more questions. Indeed, she had seemed glad to see him go.
Peach, coming into the hall as he'd gone in, had wished him good evening.
`The young lady isn't with you, sir?"
'No, Peach. Will you convey her thanks to Mrs Peach? The lunch was delicious.' He'd paused at his study door. `I'll take the dogs for a run...'
`You'd like tea first, sir?' Peach had asked.
`When I get back, Peach. Half an hour?'
He'd whistled to the dogs and gone down the garden and into the fields beyond. Perhaps he should have ignored Katrina's sudden coolness and stayed longer; good manners would have forced her to offer him.tea, and perhaps he could have
coaxed whatever was worrying her into the open. She had been distinctly cagey. On the other hand she might have felt his visit to be an intrusion.
He'd been wryly amused that he should feel concern for her, for she'd shown little inclination to be more than polite. Only when he had found her in tears he had had a strong wish to comfort her and had had a glimpse of an unhappy girl. Probably she wished that the brief moment when they had been close had never occurred.
He'd gone back to the house presently, to eat his tea and then to immerse himself in work, Katrina forgotten.
He went to work in his consulting rooms in the morning, and then on to the hospital to take his clinic. His registrar was waiting for him-a rather silent man, younger than the professor. They had worked together for some years and were good friends.
`It's a large clinic, I'm afraid,' he told him. `We've been saving them up until you got back! Young Taylor's settled in nicely. You asked for a fourth member of the team. She joined us last week. A girl, Maureen Soames. Quite good and very keen.'
They went together to Outpatients and found Sister waiting for them. Taylor was there too, a bright young doctor, keen to specialise, and beside him the new member of the team. She was a small dark girl, with short curly hair and large dark eyes in an attractive face. She was slim, and her smile was charming as she shook hands.
The professor thought that she didn't look old enough to be qualified, let alone specialise; she should be doing what other girls did-shopping, dancing, playing tennis with a string of young men. She looked fragile, the kind of girl who needed a man to look after her. He smiled at her kindly and hoped that she would be happy with his team before going to his consulting room with Sister.
The clinic lasted longer than usual, and he was on the point of leaving when Maureen came to the door. `I wondered if you could spare a moment, sir? This Mrs Wiseman-I know she's an old patient, and holding her own nicely, but I'm not sure that I understand why you ordered that particular treatment...'
The professor put down his bag. `You have her notes? Then let us sit down for a few minutes and I will explain.'
It didn't take long. Presently they walked through the hospital together and parted at the entrance, and the professor, watching her walk away, reflected that Maureen Soames was a charming girl as well as a clever one. Which was exactly what she had intended him to think.
After the professor's visit Katrina, feeling lonely, spent her time in the garden. There was plenty to do there. The ground he had dug was already planted with sprouts and cabbages, carrots and turnips. At least she would always have vegetables. She worked every day until she was tired, and then went indoors and made tea. She sat thinking about the professor, wishing that she could see him again, but of course that wouldn't happen. He had come to see her out of kindness, and because he had liked Aunt Thirza. Probably he felt relief at the idea of a duty fulfilled.
Still, tomorrow was another day, she told herself. She had promised to help get the stalls ready for the bazaar, to be held in the middle of next week. But it was of the professor she was thinking when at last she fell asleep.
For as long as Katrina could remember Aunt Thirza had presided over the ladies who, each year, organised the church bazaar, and now, although she had nothing to do with the committee, it was taken for granted that she would take over the more mundane tasks. So her next few days were fully occupied collecting the hats, dresses and unwanted handbags from the better-off inhabitants, pricing them and arranging them just so under the eagle eyes of the matrons in charge of the bazaar. There were also books to collect, bric-a-brac to wash and polish, bottles to collect for the bottle stall; for the moment she put aside her worries and plans.
The day of the bazaar brought warm sunshine, and Katrina, in one of her pretty but no longer fashionable frocks, was at the Manor House early, helping to arrange the stalls on the lawn, fetching and carrying, making herself useful. Lady Truscott, who owned the manor, was to open the bazaar at eleven o'clock, and Katrina and Mrs Peters were rearranging a last-minute display of hats.
`So kind,' said Mary Peters, `allowing us to use her lawn each year. A pity she has no family. Though there's a niece, I believe. A clever girl, I'm told, on the staff at St Aldrick's.'
She laid down the last of the hats. `Here comes Lady Truscott. Oh, that's her niece with her. Pretty, isn't she?'
Katrina agreed. Any girl would look pretty in that silk suit, but she had to admit that the girl was rather more than pretty-elegant, self-assured, probably with a string of young men. Katrina wondered what it would be like to have a string of young men...
Lady Truscott and her niece began a tour of the stalls, buying egg cosies, crocheted mats and woolly toys. They were hardly expected to buy anything from the second-hand stall, but they paused for a few words.
`You don't know my niece?' asked Lady Truscott. 'Maureen Soames-the clever girl is a doctor, you know, specialising in haematology-Professor Glenville's team. He thinks highly of her.' Lady Truscott looked smug. `By all accounts they are great friends...'
Maureen assumed a look of modest protest but she smiled, a small secret smile which annoyed Katrina. The girl was putting on an act... Katrina didn't like her, and she hoped that all this talk of being great friends with the professor was nonsense.
She said now, 'You must be very clever. Have you a day off or are you on holiday?'
Maureen gave her a limpid look. `Oh, only a day. The professor works us hard.' She gave a tinkling laugh. `But we contrive to enjoy ourselves too! I must go back shortly; we're going out this evening.'
`Burning the candle at both ends?' asked Katrina lightly. `I suppose I can't interest you in a hat?'
The look that Maureen gave her was a clear indication that they weren't to be friends.
When they had gone Mrs Peters said comfortably, `Now, isn't that nice? I liked the professor, didn't you? How delightful if he were to fall in love with Maureen. Such a pretty girl, and they do say that big men always fall for dainty little creatures like Maureen.'
That was the kind of remark which made Katrina feel outsize, and clumsy to boot.
The day over, the stalls packed up, the money counted, she went back home, refusing Mrs Peters' invitation to supper, saying that she had a lot to do that evening. Betsy met her, anxious for her supper, and presently Katrina boiled an egg, made toast and a pot of tea and sat down at the table to eat it. It had been a busy day, and very successful, only not very happy.
Meeting Maureen had brought the memory of the professor back with a vengeance, just when she was beginning to forget him. But it seemed that he wasn't to be consigned to the past; she might not see him again, but from time to time she would be given titbits of news about him, since Mrs Peters and Lady Truscott were friendly enough to exchange gossip.
`Serve him right if he marries her,' said Katrina unfairly, and not meaning a word of it. Maureen might be pretty and beautifully dressed, but under that charming exterior there lurked a young woman bent on getting her own way. `She's out to catch the professor,' said Katrina, so loudly that Betsy woke up and looked at her. `Sorry, Betsy, I didn't mean to disturb you. But he'll never be happy with her.'
Which, when she thought about it, was a silly thing to say; she hardly knew him, and she had no idea of his private life, his likes and dislikes. Very likely he admired small, dainty women, especially when they were clever doctors. `Oh well,' said Katrina vaguely, and put herself to bed.
She got up early, determined to finish planting up the garden and then cycle over to Mr Thorn's farm and see if he needed casual labour. He was far enough from the village to preclude the chance of anyone there finding out that she had a job at the farm. She didn't mind them knowing, but she shrank from their pity and concern and offers of help...
But help was something she was going to need; there was a letter on the doormat when she went downstairs, and it was an outstanding bill which had been overlooked. It was overdue, and obviously Aunt Thirza had forgotten to pay it. Th
is, she read, was a final demand, and would Miss Gibbs be good enough to forward the amount owing immediately?
It wasn't a great deal of money, but it would make a sizeable hole in her bank account. She wrote a cheque and a letter of explanation and went down to the village to post it. There were more customers than usual in Mrs Dyer's shop, and Katrina had to wait for a while until Mrs Dyer could cast off her mantle of shopkeeper and assume the mental cloak of the post office.
`Did well with the bazaar this year, I hear,' she observed, handing over stamps. `The weather was a treat too. My Amy bought one of those hats-the pink straw. She's going to a friend's wedding next week, and no one there will know where she got it.'
`The pink straw? That was one of Lady Truscott's-very expensive-Amy's got a bargain!'
`There now. There's talk about her niece. Amy said she is as pretty as a picture and a doctor and all.., works at St Aldrick's. I dare say you didn't meet her when you went there with Miss Gibbs? She's with some well-known professor. He's sweet on her, so they say.'
