An Innocent Bride

by Betty Neels

  They all went to the car with him, and on the way he turnerd aside to look at the moss rose. At the car he said quietly to? Katrina, `Your aunt would have been pleased...'

  She understood him."Yes, I think so too.' She stared up into his quiet face and marvelled at the thought that she had ever disliked him.

  He stared back, smiled suddenly and said, `Well, well,' in a thoughtful voice. But when he spoke again he sounded exactly like the family doctor. `I'll expect a weekly report from you, Katrina.'

  He got into his car, waved, and was gone.

  Katrina led the way back into the cottage. `Shall we go round the place first? It's a small house and you're welcome to go wherever you want to. There's a big garden too; we'll lock at that later. Here's the living room--' she opened the staircase door `-and upstairs...'

  They followed her round and Molly said, `It's beautiful, and so pretty, and all the flowers... No one banging doors or shouting or throwing things.'

  `Na, it's very quiet here, but the village is only a short walk away. You won't find it strange?'

  Mrs Ward drew a contented breath. `It's heaven,' she said simply. And as for Tracey, darting here, there and everywhere, there was no doubt that she agreed with her mother.

  Katrina left them to unpack and went, to get lunch on the table. They would have their main meal at one o'clock, she had decided and a substantial tea about five o'clock. She supposed that Tracey would go to bed fairly early, and she could have milk and biscuits at bedtime. Over their meal she asked Molly if she would like this and she agreed readily. `We've been going to bed quite early together; Tracey was a bit nervous... But here in this dear little house she won't mind going to bed before me, will you, love?'

  Tracey had seen Betsy, who had prudently disappeared at their arrival.

  `A cat-he's yours? May I stroke him`?"

  'Of course you may, and he's a she. Betsy. If your mother doesn't mind I dare say she'll pop upstairs when you go to bed, to have a nap and keep you company.'

  `She will? Oh, look, she likes me...'

  They went round the garden presently, picking some strawberries for tea and deciding between beans and peas for tomorrow's dinner.

  Molly said, `You do all this yourself? Grow all these things?"

  'Well, yes. It's a very old garden, and things more or less grow themselves. I potter most days.' When Tracey slipped a hand in hers Katrina said, `We'll all go and fetch eggs tomorrow, and when you would like to we'll go to the village. I'm going to take you to see Dr Peters just a friendly visit and the vicar. There's a village shop, and a post office. Everyone's very friendly.'

  Indoors again, they sat for a while talking idly. Tracey had taken off her mob cap, and Katrina winced at the sight of the small bald head, the consequence of chemotherapy.

  `She had curls,' said Mrs Ward sadly.

  `And will have again,' said Katrina robustly. `Her hair will grow once her treatment is completed, and, what's more, she'll be well.'

  `Yes. I can never thank the doctors and nurses enough, and the professor. He's been so good to Tracey and the other children he's treating. They love him; he makes everything fun and he never hurries. I mean, you never feel that he's getting impatient if you don't quite understand...'

  She smiled rather shyly at Katrina. `Is he a friend of yours'.''

  `Well, he looked after my aunt until she died, and he was very good to her-and to me. He's a very kind man. He lead a busy life, too.'

  `Oh, yes,' said Mrs Ward eagerly. `You should see him at the hospital. And he has huge clinics and patients on the wards, as well as his own private practice, but he always looks the same-not tired or worried.'

  Katrina reflected that the professor had at least one ardent admirer-possibly dozens more, from what she had been saying about him. And it was all true; again she wondered why she had ever disliked him.

  After the first few awkward days, Mrs Ward and Tracey slipped without trouble into the gentle routine of life at Rose Cottage. And Katrina, seeing them both gradually relax, discovered that she was almost happy again. Cooking for three was rewarding work, where making a meal for one had been merely something which had to be done each day, and at breakfast each morning there were plans as to how the day was to be spent...

  To Tracey, going to the farm to fetch eggs was a treat; there was a cat with kittens there, and a pet lamb... And Mrs Ward got a tinge of colour into her cheeks and shed a few years. She was a quiet little woman, but quick and intelliger, t, sharing the household chores and after a while helping Katrina in the garden. They had always lived in London, in a small house in Stepney where her husband had worked. When he'd become ill she had gone out to work while he stayed at home with Tracey, but there had never been enough money. The housing people had moved them into the flat and he iiad died there.

  Such a sad little story, and told with quiet dignity, not asking for pity.

  `The professor told me that he thought he could get me rehoused, because of Tracey...'

  `Well, if he said that I'm sure he'll do something about it,' Katrina had said. `Now, we're going to see Dr Peters this morning. You'll like him.'

  She'd already taken them to the village shop, and Mrs Dyer, given an expurgated version of the reasons for their visit, duly passed it on to everyone else, so that now Tracey and her mother were greeted by everyone they met. Mrs Ward, used to being ignored or shouted at when she ventured out of their flat, had found this a bit alarming at first, and then delightful.

  `Just fancy,' she'd told Katrina, `they stop and talk-ever so friendly too, and a nice old lady gave Tracey an apple.'

  At the end of the week Katrina wrote her report to the professor. And very businesslike it was too. Unaware that he'd phoned Dr Peters, she noted the smallest details in a dry-asdust way which made him smile. He must find time to drive down and see things for himself...

  He was telling his registrar about Tracey one morning when Maureen joined them, listened silently for a moment, and then asked, `That little girl who had chemotherapy? She's gone to live in the village where my aunt lives? With that big girl I talked to at the fete? Oh, Professor, could you not give her the check-up you want to next weekend? I'm free, and I

  planned to stay with my aunt. Would you give me a lift? I would be so grateful. I'm not on duty until Monday afternoon,

  so I can get a train or persuade my aunt to have me driven back.' She gave him a beseeching look. `I'll be ready at any

  time you like...'

  The professor, thinking about Katrina, said hastily, `Yes, yes, why not? Be at the entrance at eight o'clock on Saturday

  morning.' He gave her an absent-minded nod and then turned back to his registrar.

  `Now, Tom, about Mrs Turner-she's not taking kindly to chemotherapy...' And Maureen, seeing that he had already

  forgotten her, slipped away. It had been too good an opportunity to miss.

  The registrar watched her go; he said nothing, but he hoped that the professor wasn't going to fall for her-a calculating minx if ever there was one. And his boss was a prize any girl would be glad to win...

  The professor laid his plans carefully; Peach was consulted, as was Mrs Peach, and he left his house on Friday evening to spend the night at his flat over his rooms and deal with any last-minute matters at the hospital. He was at the entrance at exactly eight o'clock on Saturday, and Maureen was waiting for him. She wished him good morning, got into the car and, sensing his disinterest, made no effort to talk. What was more she concealed her surprise when he left the main road, drove to his home and stopped before its gate.

  `You live here`?' she asked, carefully casual.

  `Yes, I'm taking the dogs with me.'

  A moment later Peach appeared, with a large basket and Barker and Jones. Peach didn't waste time, but stowed the basket in the boot, opened the door for the dogs and stood back with a nod to the professor. Not a moment had been wasted, but he had time to take a good look at Maureen.

  `And she spells trouble, ma
rk my words,' he told Mrs Peach.

  Almost at the end of their journey, with the village in sight, Maureen said in the winning voice which usually got her her own way, `May I come with you to see Tracey? She has been such an interesting case...' Which was a mistake, for he had been treating the child long before Maureen had joined his team.

  He said coolly, `I believe you saw her once; she can't be of all that interest to you.' He was already taking the lane to her aunt's house.

  Maureen said quickly, `You are quite right, Professor. But you'll come in for a cup of coffee? It's still early.'

  He had stopped before the Manor House and got out to open her door and get her overnight bag from the boot. `No, thanks. I hope you have a pleasant weekend.' He handed her bag to the butler, who had come out to meet them. `We have a busy day before us on Monday.'

  He got back into the car and drove away, the two dogs, now that she had gone, crowded round him-Barker leaning over the back of his seat, Jones already sitting beside him. The professor heaved an unconscious sigh of content, and pulled up in front of Dr Peters' surgery.

  The older man was waiting for him, brushing aside his apology for calling so early in the day. `I quite often come over on a Saturday morning, to look through the books and so on. You'll want to hear about Tracey... Come in...

  `Excellent progress, I should say,' he said later. `I've seen her several times; Katrina brings her to the village most days-not to the surgery; we don't want to alarm Mrs Wardjust casual chats in the village, and they've been to tea with Mary. I think you'll be pleased. It was a splendid idea of yours.' He looked at the professor. `Killed two birds with one stone,' he added.

  They stared at each other, and the professor smiled. `Just so. I thought we might have a picnic...'

  `Excellent, and such a glorious day too. Katrina is enjoying having them...'

  The professor nodded. `Good. Shall we go on as we are? It's early days to know if she's out of the woods, but I'm hopeful. And I've got on to the housing people; they need a place where they can live without worries.'

  They shook hands, and he got back into his car and drove to Rose Cottage.

  The door was open, and someone was singing indoors, and Tracey was bent double over a flowerbed, picking a nosegay. She turned round when she heard the car, and rushed to the gate. She was a shy child, and timid, but over the months she had come to regard him as an old friend. `Have you come to see me? Don't I look well? Mummy says I'm a little miracle-and do you like my dress? Katrina made it for me, my cap.'

  She tugged at his arm and then drew hack a little. `There a big dog...'

  `He's mine; there's another one in the car too. Don't be afraid, Tracey, they're very gentle.'

  He let the dogs out, and after a moment, still clinging to ,his hand, she stroked first one then the other. Obedient to them

  master's quiet voice, they offered heads to be scratched and grinned at her before following them soberly up the garden path.

  There was no one in the living room, but the sound of hammering from the kitchen. Katrina was standing on a chair_ knocking in a nail, while Molly held the chair steady.

  `Oh, look who has come!' cried Mrs Ward, and let go of the chair, a flimsy affair hardly up to bearing Katrina's splindid person.

  The professor said, `Good Morning,' in a general kind ai way, and lifted Katrina from her perch. `Before you fall off, he explained matter-of-factly. `I hope your not upsetting our plans, but I had the chance of this free day, and it's time l took a look at Tracey.'

  Mrs Ward said breathlessly, 'Oh, Professor Glenville, she's so well just look at her. It's wonderful here...'

  He smiled at her and looked at Katrina, rather pink and untidy and taking care not to look at him. She felt suddenly shy, which was absurd, and she needed a minute or two to, regain her normal calm manner.

  Careful to pin her gaze over his shoulder, she said, 'You'r not upsetting any plans, Professor, and Tracey---that is--we're all pleased to see you. I'll make us some coffee.'

  Tracey came and took her hand. `There's two dogs. Do you suppose Betsy will mind?"

  'No, love, I'm sure she won't. Why don't you take thc professor and Mummy into the garden, and I'll call you when the coffee is ready?'

  `An excellent idea,' said the professor, and smiled to himself. Katrina hadn't had the time to get behind her normally cool manner, and the flustered girl he saw pleased him mightily.

  The moment they had gone Katrina rushed up to her room and combed her hair, bitterly regretting that she hadn't bothered to pin it up but had tied it back with a ribbon. But there was no time to do anything about that-besides, if she did he might think that she was doing it for him... She flung powder on her nose and tore downstairs again. By the time the coffee was ready and they were at the door she was, to all intents and purposes, looking her usual rather reserved self. Except for the hair, of course.

  The professor, coming into the kitchen, saw that with a small sigh of satisfaction.

  They had their coffee in the garden. Tracey, over her timidity with the dogs, was tossing a ball for them.

  `She's better, isn't she, Professor?' asked Mrs Ward anxiously. `She eats for two, and sleeps at nights.' She looked at Katrina. `And all due to Katrina-such lovely food, and playing in the garden and going for little walks...

  The professor stretched out at his ease. `yes, I see a great improvement. I'll have a look at her presently, and I shalll want you to come up to St Aldrick's in a week or two for some more tests.'

  He sounded so reassuring that Mrs Ward said happily, `Yes, of course. She won't mind a bit because we'll be coming back here.'

  He showed no desire to go, and presently Katrina asked,

  `Would you like to stay for lunch, Professor?' She sounded like a polite hostess who wasn't keen on having gu;.sts, and he smiled a little.

  `Thank you. But may I in turn invite all of you to a picnic.My good Mrs Peach packed sandwiches, and I thought that Tracey might iike a day out. There's a kind of open park called Heaven's Gate only a few miles from here-you will know of it, Katrina?' And when she nodded, he added, ' I should be delighted to have your company.'

  Tracey had been listening. `Oh, please may we go-and may Jones and Barker come with us? And may we go now'." The small child's face under the mob cap was very appealing

  `If Katrina agrees?'

  The three of them looked at her: Tracey imploringly, Mrs. Ward doubtfully. 'It was only a cold meal ...I mean there is nothing to spoil, is there? We could eat it tomorrow.'

  The professor said nothing at all. Katrina peeped at his impassive face. `It sounds marvellous. Of course we'd love to come with you, Professor. Such a lovely day too, and Heaven's Gate is a beauty spot.' She stopped, aware that shee was babbling.

  He was watching her, careful not to smile. `Good. Now, if I might: give Tracey a quick examination. Upstairs, perhaps`?'

  While they were away, Katrina cleared the coffee cups and went up to her room. She could hear Molly and Tracey and the professor's quiet voice in the other bedroom; she would have time to do her hair...

  Once they were all downstairs again, the professor expressed satisfaction with Tracey s progress. `I'll get my secretary to let you know which day to come to London,' he told Mrs Ward. `Perhaps you had better come with them, Katrina.'

  She agreed, in a matter-of-fact manner, hiding pleasure at the prospect. She probably wouldn't see him, but he would be there, she reflected in a muddled way.

  Heaven's Gate was beautiful; there were other picnic parties there but they found a quiet spot, shaded by trees and with a magnificent. view. The professor, much hindered bv Tracey and the dogs, carried the picnic basket from the car, and Katrina and Molly unpacked it. Mrs Peach had surpassed herself: little rolls stuffed with cream cheese, ham and smoked salmon, chicken legs and tiny pork pies, salad, potato straws, little pots of fruit jellies and chocolate mousse...

  Molly stared in wonder. `I:ook,' she whispered to Katrina,

  `There
's knives and forks and pepper and salt and glasses and paper serviettes.'

  The professor and Tracey had gone to admire the view and take the dogs for a run. When they came back Molly said, `It's lovely, Professor. I've never seen anything like it-only in those magazines at the dentist's and the hospital.'

  He lowered his vast person onto the grass. `My housekeeper loves making cakes and pies. I hope everyone's hungry; I am.'

  He opened a bottle of wine, orangeade for Tracey, and they fell to.

  It didn't seem quite real to Katrina. Did famous professors with a comfortable lifestyle and probably hosts of friends make a habit of inviting a patient to a picnic? And such a picnic-more a feast! She wondered why he had done it, worried now that perhaps Tracey wasn't going to get better and that he wanted her to have a treat before... Don't think that, she told herself, and looked up to see his eyes on her.