Cottage Hospital

by Claire Rayner

  Chapter Ten

  She didn’t move. They stayed there in the same positions, frozen into immobility, Geoffrey looking down at her anxiously, where she sat still and quiet at his feet. Then she stirred and raised her head.

  He smiled his lopsided smile. “Please, don’t misunderstand me. This is no – romantic whim. I could, I think, have asked you to come to live in this house, to care for my home and children, merely as the children’s aunt, and I suspect you would have come on those terms. You have a strong sense of duty, haven’t you? You would have felt a moral – obligation – to come. But that would be unfair. I couldn’t ask you to give up your own life for me and my children’s welfare. As my wife, I can offer you – material well-being, security – status, if you like, something you would not have as a – well – as a glorified housekeeper. I would not insult you with such a proposal.”

  Barbara nodded gravely. “I see. Then this – proposal of marriage is a – ”

  “A friendly businesslike arrangement if you like.” He broke away from her, turning to throw another log on the fire. It burst into a shower of sparks, lighting his face vividly for a moment. “You would of course, have your – your own room. I do not expect – more – than companionship – “ He looked at her appealingly. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Barbara? I’m not finding this easy.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then she said levelly.

  “I think I do. You propose a companionate marriage. Romantic love has no part of it. To be blunt, we live together, but we do not sleep together.” Barbara was a little surprised at her own even voice, at the coolness she both felt and displayed.

  He flushed. “Perhaps I am equally unfair to suggest that. I don’t know. But – you are so – so serene, so sufficient to yourself. I – have no way of knowing whether you feel you need – more than this from a marriage. Children of your own, perhaps – ”

  His voice died away, then strengthened again. “I just thought that you could well have made a romantic marriage years ago had you wanted to. You are beautiful.” She shook her head impatiently. “You are, even if you don’t realise it. But that isn’t important – what I mean is that I’ve thought about this very carefully. And it seemed to me that you might – understand this suggestion.”

  She put her arms round her knees and stared into the fire. “When I lived in this house for a few days last April, one of the biggest problems I had to face was that I envied Mary.” She looked up at him a little ruefully. “I am trying to be honest with you, you see. I envied her her home, her children – particularly Josie, for whom I have a – a – great deal of affection. I enjoyed the comfort of this house, the sense of security it carried. And I despised myself for it. And now – “ she shook her head in confusion. “What you suggest now offers me just what I wanted then. This makes it difficult for me to – consider accepting. Can you understand that?”

  He nodded gravely. “I think I can. But you need have no – guilt about feeling like this. It is very natural – very practical, if you like.”

  “Guilt,” she frowned briefly. “There is that, too. I feel I owe you and Josie something. I can’t explain why. I just do. It is this that makes me inclined to accept.”

  He leaned forward eagerly. “Whatever your reasons for accepting, Barbara, I hope you will. You need not feel that you owe us anything at all – I can’t imagine how you possibly could – but I would be happier if you accepted on those terms than if you refused me on any others.”

  “I must think – “ The room slid into silence again. She sat still, trying to collect her thoughts in some sort of order. It was true that Geoffrey was offering her something she had once wanted. Security, status, Josie. She looked round the room, at the cool bleached wood, the rich purple of the upholstery, and wondered. Did she still want this? And above all, did she want Josie?

  It was harder to decide the answer to this. When Josie had said, so long ago it seemed now, that she wanted Barbara to be her mother, there had been no doubt. Barbara, too, wanted Josie. But now? Josie was different – how different there would be no way of knowing until she came home for the holidays. But then Barbara remembered Miss Le Courbet’s letter. She thought Josie needed a mother to replace Mary. Would the child accept Barbara?

  And what of herself? Suppose she refused this proposal? Barbara tried to visualise her life in the future as Sister Hughes. Years of hard work, to end in what? A Matronship perhaps. And afterwards? A lonely retirement, no longer needed by anyone when her working days were over. She remembered nursing a retired nurse once, a lonely old lady, who seemed to have no reason for living once her working days had ended. Was this what she wanted?

  She shivered for a moment. She had never thought much about the future before. Now she was being forced to. Perhaps, if she refused Geoffrey, she would one day marry someone else – a “romantic” marriage as Geoffrey had called it.

  “But is that likely?” part of her mind sneered. “Geoffrey says you are beautiful – but you are thirty, and you have never yet been asked to marry anyone, have you?”

  She argued with herself, “I’ve had men friends – ”

  “Oh, yes,” sneered the silent voice in her mind. “Daniel Marston was one, wasn’t he? There was a time you thought – ”

  But this was a dangerous thought. Daniel had gone out of her life seven months before. He had made no attempt to contact her – whatever she may once have thought about him had died. So she raised her head and looked at Geoffrey, standing silently in front of the fire.

  “Thank you for your suggestion, Geoffrey,” she said levelly. “I think, with you, that this arrangement has much to commend it. I – I will marry you.”

  He straightened as though a heavy load had suddenly slipped from his back.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he said softly.

  Then he switched on the bright centre light, throwing the room in vivid relief. The pool of firelight in which they had been sitting dwindled away.

  “We must discuss arrangements.” He was brisk. “I shall arrange for a marriage settlement to be drawn up – ”

  “A settlement?”

  “Of course! I feel strongly that this is necessary. Both the children have money settled on them, to which they will have access when they come of age. I propose to settle some ten thousand pounds on you, the interest to be yours from the time we marry, the capital to be completely yours on my death. I will, of course, also change my will when we marry.”

  “I see,” she murmured. This sudden transition to talk of money confused her. She was embarrassed, too, and Geoffrey seemed to sense this.

  “Better to settle all this now,” he said gently. “Then we need not think of it again. Part of this arrangement is to offer you security, isn’t it? This is how I intend to – to implement that part of the arrangement.”

  “Very well.” She schooled her voice so that it was as business-like as his own. “But whatever arrangements you make, I would not like the children to suffer any – any – financial loss on my account.”

  “They won’t, I assure you. Their financial future was planned years ago. They are well cared for. And Mary had some money of her own, too, you remember. The children have that completely.”

  Barbara had forgotten. Their parents had left little to Barbara, perhaps because she was not married. They had left a considerable sum to Mary in trust for her children.

  Geoffrey was talking again. “You will have two bank accounts when we marry. One will be for the household expenses, all of which I will ask you to deal with for me.

  The other will be your own allowance. I would suggest five hundred a year?”

  She blinked, “If you wish.” This was horribly embarrassing, but Geoffrey went on:

  “I carry considerable life insurance, so I think I can safely say you will be comfortably off should I leave you a widow. And this house will be yours, too.”

  “Whatever you say, Geoffrey. I would rather not know, quite honestly – ”
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  “But you must! It is all part of the arrangement.” He smiled at her. “But I think that is all I have to tell you. I shall have to ask you for your signature on various documents, of course, but not until later.” For a moment, his briskness left him. “Er – have you any preferences about – when we should marry?”

  “Oh – “ this brought it all so very close that she almost panicked, almost said she had changed her mind. “Oh – I hadn’t thought – ”

  “I wondered if perhaps in May? That gives us six months for the children to become accustomed to the idea – and will stop any tendency to local gossip. People seem to place some magical meaning on the passing of a year. If we married before – before the anniversary of Mary’s death, there would be unpleasant talk. If we wait until May, there will be less. There is sure to be some, of course – ”

  Barbara nodded. “I suppose there will,” she said evenly. “But if you are not bothered by it, I certainly shan’t be. It’s the children I worry about.”

  “Yes – “ He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t think Jamie will be any problem – but Josie – ”

  “We can only wait until we see her next month,” Barbara said decisively. “I think you might tell Jamie, but we will suggest that he says nothing to Josie till we do. I think he’ll understand.”

  “Yes – “ He smiled suddenly. “You see? Already you are helping me with decisions! Thank you again, Barbara. I hardly hoped you would accept – but I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you have. As long as you are sure that this – will be enough of a marriage for you – ”

  “I have accepted, Geoffrey,” she said quietly. “Leave it at that.”

  “Very well. I don’t want to invade your private thoughts completely – you must still feel free – ”

  She felt weary suddenly, filled with a need for solitude.

  “If you will forgive me, Geoffrey, I think perhaps I’ll go back to the hospital now. I know it’s early, but – “ she said a little awkwardly.

  “Of course, my dear. I quite understand. I’ll drive you – ”

  They said little on the drive to the hospital. When Geoffrey stopped the car outside the main entrance and hurried round the car to open her door, she knew a moment of panic. Would he try to kiss her, perhaps? But then she remembered. This was not that sort of engagement.

  “I’m engaged!” she thought in a kind of dumb surprise, as she got out of the car. “Engaged to be married!” and the thought was so suddenly, so exquisitely funny, that she laughed aloud.

  He looked puzzled, even worried, by her laughter. “So sorry,” she said lamely. “I – I caught my foot in the door and nearly fell. That’s why I laughed – ”

  His face cleared, and he took one of her hands in both of his own. “Goodnight, Barbara,” he said softly. “And thank you.” And with a brief tightening of his grasp, he let her go, and went back to the car, to drive smoothly away into the October darkness.

  Barbara, suddenly exhausted, drained of any feeling, climbed the stairs to her room. Matron’s sitting room door was open, light spilling across the polished floor of the corridor.

  On an impulse she went towards it. She needed a woman to talk to, needed someone to talk to desperately. And Matron Elliott, with her bustling ways, her comfortable talk and her shrewd commonsense was just the person she needed.

  She pushed the sitting room door open, and stood blinking in the light for a moment.

  “Sister!” Matron pulled herself out of the chair beside the little hearth, grunting a little with the effort. “Just the girl I wanted to see! Back early – wonderful! My dear, I have a surprise for you! An old friend of yours is here – ”

  She waddled over to the door, to pull on Barbara’s cold hands, urging her into the room. The other chair by the fireside, the one that had its back to the door, moved a little as its occupant, hidden from Barbara’s sight, moved slightly.

  Matron Elliott led Barbara to the fireside, turning her triumphantly on the hearth-rug to face the other easy chair.

  “There!” she said joyfully. “What do you think of that?”

  Sitting in the chair, his dark red head settled deeply into his shoulders, his lazy eyes crinkling up at her, sat Daniel Marston.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hello, Barbara,” he smiled at her, and got to his feet, to come and stand beside her, taking her own cold hands in his. “Have you forgiven me?”

  “How characteristic,” Barbara thought in an oddly detached way. “We don’t meet for seven months – we don’t even write to each other, and now he carries on just as though we had met yesterday.” Aloud, she said, “Daniel! What are you doing here?”

  “One question at a time!” his smiled broadened. “My answer first. Have you forgiven me?”

  “Oh, of course! I was furious with you at the time, I know, but I’d have to be pretty adolescent to carry on being angry after all this time, wouldn’t I?” She peered up at him a little impishly. “Particularly as you were right – I was ill, I suppose – and I’m fine now. So I’ll have to admit I was wrong as gracefully as I can!”

  He made a mock fist, and pretended to swipe at her jaw, a familiar gesture that brought all the past flooding back, and made her feel as though she, too, had seen him only yesterday.

  “That’s my girl! And I, for my part, apologise for being so dam’ hamfisted about the whole business. I’ve as much tact as a bulldozer. Sorry, Bar!”

  Matron Elliott, almost purring in her pleasure, beamed happily at them. “Well, now, you two must want to talk your heads off. I’m away to a bath and bed – you stay here, now, and help yourselves – whisky here, Doctor Marston, and sherry, and I think there are a few biscuits – “ She bustled about her little room, finding glasses and bottles and a tin of biscuits, settling them both in the easy chairs each side of the fire, throwing more coal on to the already blazing grate, and generally behaving like a mother hen.

  When she had gone, closing the door behind her with elephantine tact, they sat and stared at each other. Barbara felt a sudden constraint as she looked at the face opposite, so familiar, and yet so strange.

  He bent forward to the little table Matron had pulled to his side, and started to fix himself a drink with the absorbed expression on his face that he always brought to even the smallest of tasks.

  Barbara leaned back in her chair and watched him, trying to assess her feelings as she did so. She felt oddly mixed. Part of her was filled with unadulterated pleasure at meeting an old friend again, and at finally clearing up a foolish argument. But another part of her felt panic, sheer stupid panic. In her usual cool clear-headed fashion, Barbara tried to analyse this feeling. Why should she feel so afraid to see him? What was it that made her want to run and hide from him?

  He leaned back in his chair, cradling his drink in his hands, after he had put a glass of Matron’s dubious sherry in front of her.

  “Your question now. I’m here to study, mainly. I’m trying my Mastership in Surgery in a few months – and I’ve got enough solid experience under my belt to concentrate on book work for a while. I looked for a peaceful job somewhere where I could get enough time for that. So I applied for this post. The boy you’ve had here is going on to Dover, I gather – I start duty tomorrow.” He looked up at her and laughed suddenly.

  “D’you know something? I hadn’t the remotest idea that this was your Cottage Hospital till that old duck of a Matron happened to mention your name – in the middle of a lot of other chatter – ”

  Barbara laughed too. “Mmm. She does run on, doesn’t she? But don’t let her fool you. She’s a top-rate nurse, and she’s the perfect Matron for a place like this. Got the hospital at her finger ends – it’s a happy place – ”

  He nodded. “You can feel that the minute you put your foot through the door. I’m looking forward to the next six months. And the duck assures me the heavy work is over for the year, so I’ll have plenty of time to do my own work as well as the hospital’s. Now – “ He l
eaned forward and smiled crookedly at her. “Enough about me. What’s with you? Tell me everything that’s happened to you. How’s the ulcer?”

  A little shy suddenly, Barbara lit a cigarette, making much of the small action. “Me? I’m fine – the ulcer seems to have gone completely now. I’ll have a barium meal in a month or so, to make sure, but I don’t expect there’ll be anything wrong – ”

  “And your family? You have a sister here, haven’t you? I seem to remember Matron at the Royal saying something about – ”

  “She’s dead,” Barbara said baldly. “She was – killed in a road accident just after I came here.”

  There was a moment’s shocked silence. Then Daniel said awkwardly, “I’m sorry, Barbara. I had no idea. Forgive a clumsy question.”

  She shrugged. “It’s all right. I can’t pretend to be dreadfully upset – not for Mary, that is. I – we weren’t very close, I’m afraid. It was worse for the children, really – ”

  He nodded soberly. “How are they? Are they very young?”

  She told him about Josie and Jamie, talking a great deal about them. Anything not to talk about Geoffrey.

  And it was as she realised that she didn’t want to talk about Geoffrey that she also realised why she had felt panic at the sight of Daniel. How could she explain to him about her engagement to Geoffrey? Daniel, with his clean integrity, who had never had any use for anything but the same integrity in others – how could he understand what she was doing?

  “To an outsider,” she thought drearily, staring into the fire, after her own voice had come to a stop. “To an outsider it’ll look like simple opportunism. I’ve accepted a proposal of marriage from a man fifteen years older than I am – a man I don’t love – I’ve contracted myself to a marriage of convenience for us both. He provides for his and his children’s comfort. I provide for my own security and – financial future.” She felt sick at the thought.

  “But it isn’t like that at all,” she argued with herself. “It’s Josie, really. That’s why I’m marrying Geoffrey.”