by Betty Neels
Which started a pleasant discussion about gardens, and somehow this led to her life before she had come to live at Much Winterlow. The doctor, experienced in extracting information from reluctant patients, listened carefully, putting two and two together, no longer pretending to himself that he wasn’t deeply interested and aware at the same time that Matilda was going to be a hard nut to crack…
After tea she went up to her room and got into her pink dress, wondering uneasily if she had talked too much. The doctor was being friendly and dining with him would be delightful. But she mustn’t forget that probably he had been prevented in some way from going to Lucilla and was taking her out because he had nothing better to do. He must be vexed at having to waste his holiday…
She went back to the sitting room and he got up as she went in.
‘You look nice,’ he said. He sounded like an elder brother. ‘If you’re ready, we’ll go.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
IN THE car Matilda said, ‘You didn’t bring Sam with you.’
‘No; we went for a long walk and had a late lunch. He wouldn’t take kindly to staying with Aunt Kate while we’re away and I shall be home to take him for his evening walk.’
She had thought that maybe they were going to the hotel at Somerton but he drove through its main street and presently turned into a narrow country road. After a mile or so he turned in between stone pillars. There was no sign of a dwelling until he rounded a narrow bend, to reveal light from a dozen windows streaming towards them in the dark evening. As they reached it Matilda could see that it was a large house built in the Palladian manner. The doctor came to a silent halt before its imposing front door.
‘Rather out of the way,’ he observed, getting out and coming round to open her door, ‘but I think you will like it.’
Matilda, thankful for the decent coat and the pink dress, said in her sensible voice, ‘I would be out of my mind if I didn’t. What a splendid house. I expect you’ve been here before.’ And then she added, ‘Sorry; that’s none of my business.’
‘If you mean have I brought Lucilla here, no, but I have brought my mother.’
Matilda paused on the steps leading to the entrance. ‘I suppose that’s what I did mean. It’s the kind of place Lucilla would look right in; she is very lovely.’
‘Quite beautiful,’ the doctor agreed blandly as they went through the door.
She had often wondered what a country house hotel would be like; she had never expected to see one for herself. They had drinks in a lovely room with a blazing fire and presently went to the restaurant, softly lit with wide windows draped in old rose brocade and tables widely spaced.
Matilda, relieved to see that the rose-coloured dress stood up well to these surroundings, studied the menu.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ said the doctor—a remark she found encouraging. Vichyssoise, she decided—leek soup but with a difference—grilled trout with a pepper sauce, braised chicory and potato purée.
The doctor shared her wish for soup but settled on fillet of beef with sauce Perigord and turned his attention to the maître d’ and the hovering wine waiter. Vintage claret for himself and a white burgundy for Matilda and, with the pudding trolley, champagne. Matilda, tucking into chestnut soufflé with chocolate sauce, enjoyed every mouthful, something which the doctor found endearing. Unlike Lucilla she appeared to have no qualms about weight problems. Her shape, he considered, was perfection itself.
The wine loosened her tongue nicely so that the sensible Miss Paige became Matilda—a Matilda he had fallen in love with—and who, most regrettably, showed no signs of falling in love with him.
He was prepared to wait just as he was prepared to tackle the problem of Lucilla. In the meantime he listened to Matilda’s quiet voice and watched her happy face and possessed his soul in patience.
They sat a long time over their coffee and then he drove back to Aunt Kate’s to find Mrs Chubb, cosy in a red dressing gown, waiting for them in the kitchen.
‘Just in case you fancied a hot drink,’ she told them. She looked at Matilda’s happy face. ‘Enjoyed ourselves, I’ll be bound.’
‘Yes, oh, yes!’ said Matilda. She turned to the doctor, beaming up at him. ‘Thank you very much for taking me out to dinner.’ She sounded like a well-mannered child. ‘It was a wonderful evening, you know—the kind of evening one always remembers…’
‘Indeed, I shall always remember it too,’ said the doctor. ‘Sweet dreams, Matilda.’ And he bent and kissed her, very much to Mrs Chubb’s satisfaction and even more to Matilda’s.
And, with a smiling glance at Mrs Chubb, he was gone.
Matilda turned a dreamy face to the housekeeper. ‘I’ll go to bed,’ she said, and kissed her and floated upstairs to her room, for the moment wrapped in a dream world of her own.
But morning made short work of shattering dreams. She got up and showered and dressed and went downstairs to have breakfast with Aunt Kate, willing sensible thoughts to brush away the romantic nonsense of the previous evening. It’s not as though he said anything, she told herself. We only talked about this and that; I could have been Aunt Kate or Mrs Chubb or a casual acquaintance. I hope I didn’t talk too much…
‘Where did you go?’ asked Aunt Kate. ‘And what did you eat?’ Matilda told her at some length and her companion nodded briskly. ‘Henry takes his mother there. She went there with his father when he was alive. They were a devoted couple. He has always said that it was exactly the place in which to have a love affair… And theirs was a love affair until his father died.’
She didn’t give Matilda time to answer. ‘We will go to church this morning; you won’t need to go home until after lunch.’
The church, like so many in rural England, was too big for the village; nevertheless it was well filled. And Aunt Kate seemed to know everyone in it. Matilda sang the hymns, said her prayers and listened to the sermon carefully, anxious to dismiss her wandering thoughts, and after some delay while Aunt Kate greeted friends and acquaintances outside the church they walked back to the cottage where Mrs Chubb was waiting to serve roast beef with its traditional accompaniments.
‘Mrs Chubb has the afternoon and evening off,’ Aunt Kate explained, ‘so I have a cold supper.’ She added abruptly, ‘I shall miss you and so will she.’
‘I can never thank you enough for having me to stay. You and Mrs Chubb are so kind and this is a lovely cottage. I wish there was something I could do in return.’
‘Bless the child.’ Aunt Kate was at her most brisk. ‘We enjoy your company and we hope that you will come again and again to cheer up two old women.’
Matilda thought that neither Aunt Kate nor Mrs Chubb needed cheering up; they appeared content with their lot and satisfied with their lives. They shared so many interests and they appeared to know everyone for miles around. Matilda, eating the last of Mrs Chubb’s apple pie, wondered about the doctor’s mother. Was she as nice as Aunt Kate? Even half as nice…?
They had their coffee in the sitting room and presently Aunt Kate said, ‘Go and get your hat and coat, Matilda; it’s time you were going.’
Matilda put Taffy on the sofa and went upstairs. Now that it was time to go she wanted to go quickly and without fuss. She put on her hat and coat, gave a lingering look round the pretty room and went downstairs; Aunt Kate didn’t approve of hanging about.
She was still sitting in her chair, her knitting in her lap, and leaning his vast person against the mantelpiece was Dr Lovell.
Matilda paused just inside the door. ‘I’m just going,’ she said stupidly.
‘Then say goodbye and we’ll be off.’
Aunt Kate said, ‘Did I forget to tell you that Henry would drive you back? My memory is getting bad, I’m afraid.’
She put down her knitting and got to her feet. ‘Now, child, you are not to work too hard and you must come again—after Christmas, for I’m sure you’ll want to be home with your family and friends. Here’s Mrs Chubb to say goodbye…’
Matilda was kissed and hugged while the doctor stood patiently waiting, then he kissed the two ladies and swept Matilda out to the car.
Sam was there, spread out on the back seat and pleased to see her. She submitted to his whiskery greeting and he rested his head on her shoulder, blowing gently into her neck.
‘How very kind of you to take me home,’ began Matilda.
‘Sam fancied a drive. You have enjoyed your stay?’
‘Oh, yes, very much. I hope you had a nice week.’
‘It had its high spots. Mrs Inch will have tea ready—you’ll stay? She will be so disappointed if you don’t.’
‘Oh, yes, please. I didn’t tell Mother exactly when I would be home; Aunt Kate wasn’t sure.’
‘Good. Tomorrow morning after surgery I would like you to come out to Duckett’s Farm. Rob is home and he would like to see you.’
‘He’s going to be all right? I’m so glad, and I’d like to see him and his wife and Tom.’
‘Don’t forget John.’
‘What a lot of nice people there are—and you’d never meet them unless it was by chance.’
He agreed with a brief yes and she made no effort to talk any more, and before long she was being ushered into his house and Mrs Inch was welcoming her with as much warmth as Mrs Chubb.
‘There’s tea ready, sir; just you take Miss Matilda into the drawing room. Such a nasty cold afternoon; you’ll be glad of a cup of tea and a slice of my lardy cake!’
The doctor was careful to keep the talk about nothing much as they ate their tea. Matilda’s face had a happy glow which he could have watched for hours, but he had seen her quick glances at the long case clock behind him. She finished her tea and after a polite interval said that if he didn’t mind she would like to go home.
His cheerfully brisk agreement was a bit disconcerting.
At the cottage she began on the thank-you speech she had rehearsed in her mind but he cut her short.
‘I’ll come in with you; I’d like a word with your father.’
Leaving Sam in the car, they trod up the path together and opened the door as Mrs Paige came into the hall.
‘Matilda—oh, I’m so glad to have you back. I have had the most wretched time with one of my heads; I was so tempted to ring and ask you to come home on Saturday morning but that would have been selfish. Now you are home I can take things easy.’
She turned to the doctor. ‘So good of you to bring Matilda home. Do come in and forgive my bad manners. I get upset so easily.’
He watched the happy glow die away in Matilda’s face. ‘Thank you; I should like a word with Mr Paige.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you will find him very well. He’s in the sitting room.’
The doctor didn’t stay long; a few minutes’ quiet talk with Mr Paige, a courteous exchange of nothing much with Mrs Paige and he had gone, with a brief reminder to Matilda that he would see her at the surgery in the morning.
Mrs Paige complained that his visit had been so short. ‘But I dare say he has more interesting things to do with his time; I suppose he felt obliged to bring you back, seeing as he suggested that you should go to his aunt’s house in the first place.’
Mrs Paige sat down in the sitting room and picked up a book. ‘Your father fancies something light for his supper—there’s some soup and eggs…’
Matilda went up to her room. She always hoped that things would be different between her mother and herself but they never were. She went to the window and opened it, letting the cold air in, and then shut it again because Rastus, sleeping on her bed, protested.
It had been a lovely few days; she would remember them for the rest of her life and since there was no one else to tell she told Rastus of their delights.
She got the supper presently and listened to her mother making more plans. She had had another invitation, from old friends she had met while she had been away. ‘Curry Rivel,’ she explained. ‘So handy for Taunton, I can do my shopping while I’m there. You’ll let me have some extra money for Christmas, won’t you? I’ll get everything we shall need and bring it back with me.’
She looked sharply at Matilda. ‘You’ll have several days off at Christmas, I suppose?’
‘I expect so. Dr Lovell will let me know.’
‘Well, I plan to go at the end of the week and come back the day before Christmas Eve.’
‘We shall be perfectly well here, my dear,’ said Mr Paige. ‘You go and see to the shopping and see the Gibbs; they have always been great friends of yours, haven’t they? Perhaps in the New Year we might invite them back here. I do realise how lonely you are here; you had so many friends and were always so busy.’ He sighed. ‘I do so regret that I was forced to give up the ministry.’
‘It’s really nice living here,’ said Matilda, ‘and it will be lovely in the summer. I’ll get the garden in some sort of order; it’s full of plants and bushes, if only I could clear them.’
‘A delightful prospect,’ said her father, ‘and so fortunate that you are so strong, my dear, for I am useless and your mother is far too delicate to undertake any but the lightest of tasks.’
Mrs Paige leaned across and patted his arm. ‘You are so good to me…’
Matilda sat up late in her bed doing sums. She needed very little money for herself although she had hoped to buy a skirt and cardigan; now they would have to wait until after Christmas for she still had one or two more presents to buy. If she gave her mother most of her wages on Friday they should be enough to get the extra food and delicacies, the turkey and the Christmas pudding. She would talk to her mother in the morning.
The surgery was busy; with the holidays so near, everyone was intent on getting rid of their ailments as quickly as possible. Bidden to have coffee with the doctor afterwards, Matilda was told not to waste time. ‘I’ve a long round this morning,’ he explained, ‘and I promised to go the Ducketts’. Can you be ready in ten minutes?’
She swallowed her coffee, got into her outdoor things and ran across the street to Mrs Simpkins’ shop.
‘I’m going to the Ducketts’,’ she explained breathlessly, ‘and I must take something for little Tom.’ she added, ‘The doctor won’t want to be kept waiting.’
Mrs Simpkins, rather in the manner of a conjuror with a rabbit in a hat, produced a small teddy bear sitting on top of a bag of sweets.
‘Just the thing. Pay me later, love; he’s getting into his car.’
Moments later he leaned over and opened the door for her and she scrambled in. Sam was in the back and heaved himself over to greet her with a pleased rumble, but the doctor didn’t speak. She decided it was one of those days when she was Miss Paige, when it was better to be seen rather than heard.
And indeed he didn’t speak until they arrived at the farm.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ he told her. ‘I shall be most of the time with Rob but try and be ready.’
‘Well really,’ said Matilda coldly. ‘When have I ever kept you waiting?’
He smiled but said nothing.
The Ducketts were waiting for them; she shook Rob’s hand and told him how well he looked and was led away to the kitchen by Mrs Duckett and Tom. They had coffee and Tom had his teddy bear then John came in.
They were glad to see her again and there was so much to tell her about Rob. She sat with Tom on her lap and drank her coffee with one eye on the clock, and sure enough there was one minute of the fifteen left when the doctor joined them.
Everything was exactly as it should be, he told them; Rob would need to see his surgeon after Christmas and he was to take things very easy until then.
They all went out to the car then, calling Christmas good wishes as he drove out of the farmyard.
‘I’ll drop you in the village,’ said the doctor, ‘and see you at five o’clock.’
‘Would you mind if I hung up one or two decorations in the waiting room?’
‘Not in the least. Get whatever you want from Mrs Simpkins and tell her to put it on my bill.�
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‘I didn’t mean you to pay for them.’
‘Of course you didn’t, but don’t deprive me of that pleasure. I could never get Miss Brimble to do more than arrange a sprig of holly on her desk so let us be lavish.’
‘Thank you; if you don’t like it you’ll say so?’
‘Most certainly.’
He got out and opened her door and she turned to pat Sam. ‘Thank you for taking me out to Duckett’s Farm.’
‘They wanted to see you.’ He got into the car and drove away. A perfectly sensible answer, she reflected, so why did she feel snubbed?
She had a wonderful time with Mrs Simpkins. Without the worry of having to pay for them, she chose Father Christmas in his sleigh for the table, several jolly Christmas scenes to hang on the walls, and yards of tinsel to fasten round the door. Holly, too, and a red paper shade for the ceiling light. She bore the lot back to the waiting room, let herself in and set about decorating it. It took time but she was pleased with the result. ‘And if he doesn’t like it it’s just too bad,’ she said.
She was late home, of course, and her mother was annoyed about that.
‘We could have had a macaroni cheese if you had been here to make it.’
‘I stayed to decorate the waiting room.’
‘You never wasted your money on that?’
‘No. Dr Lovell paid for everything.’
‘I should hope so; he’s rich enough. No wonder that Armstrong girl is anxious to marry him.’
The evening surgery was pretty busy and the doctor was late starting, but no one grumbled; they were too busy admiring the decorations. When he did come she didn’t look at him as he opened the surgery door and called the first patient in, but when the last patient had gone and she was clearing up he came and stood in the centre of the room, his hands in his pockets.
‘Very nice,’ he commented. ‘You’ve done us proud. And my patients loved it.’ He stared down at her. ‘But please don’t attempt to decorate my surgery.’
He put out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Go home; you must be tired.’ His voice was gentle.
