It had been one of mixed emotions. She had had an unexpected encounter with Lewis which had culminated in him laughingly kissing her without any apparent motive other than to indulge a passing whim, and the day had finally ended with a flash of ill-humour from Felicity. Although she knew that Felicity did not like her, and had made no effort whatsoever to make her feel at home in Westmorland, she had never before been quite so gratuitously rude. Ismay wondered idly as she leaned out to inhale the perfume from the bed of night-scented stock under her window what had made the sophisticated, blonde beauty so bad-tempered. Perhaps she found a whole day spent in the company of her husband and children intolerably wearisome.
But the following day Ismay was to encounter Felicity’s animosity yet again. There was nothing old Mrs. Kynoch liked better than to get as many members of her family gathered round her as possible and she had managed to do just that for Sunday afternoon tea. Stephen, Brena, Veronica and the three children had walked up from the cottage midway through the afternoon, Sally and James had driven over, Lewis had no hospital calls and she had Alec back trader her roof after his long absence. Mrs. Kynoch sat looking supremely contented as she poured tea into a host of cups and as Ismay and Veronica wheeled in the trolley, loaded with as many plates of sandwiches, scones, cakes and biscuits as it would hold, Ismay could not help smiling to herself at the complacent expression on the old lady’s face as she sat queening it on the settee.
Apart from Ismay and Veronica, everyone else in the big drawing-room and the sun-lounge adjoining it was related to one another, and with the exception of Felicity, who sat looking bored and contemptuous, everybody seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the family get-together. Brena and Sally were on the floor of the sun-lounge playing a game with Anne, Clare and the Three Musketeers; Stephen, Lewis, Alec and James were deep in conversation, sitting together on one of the big settees. Only Felicity sat apart, looking supremely beautiful and extremely bored.
As Ismay carried round the cups of tea to each member of the family, she derived great amusement from the scraps of conversation which she caught here and there. Alec, Lewis and James were arguing vigorously over, of all things, elm beetle; Brena and Sally were trying to stop the boys from cheating over the game they were playing on the floor; Anne and Clare had withdrawn to play rummy on the wide window seat. Felicity, with no one to talk to, discontentedly swung an elegantly shod foot as if she would have given anything to be able to get up and stalk out of the house.
Veronica had gone to get some more hot water when a ring at the front door bell could be heard. Mrs. Kynoch looked faintly surprised, and then as Ismay walked forward, saying, ‘I’ll go, shall I?’ she nodded in agreement.
It was not often anyone came to the front door of Little Grange. Most of the Kynochs’ friends strolled in unannounced through the side door which the family used. As Ismay swung the big door wide she gaped in sheer astonishment. On the doorstep stood Mr. and Mrs. McNeil, and before Ismay could overcome her surprise and ask what they were doing in Westmorland, Peter’s mother walked into the house, flung her arms round Ismay’s neck and said tremulously, ‘I’m sorry we’ve come without letting you know, but Dad and I set out on the spur of the moment. We couldn’t pass without dropping in to see how you were.’
‘I’d no idea you were thinking of holidaying up here,’ Ismay began. ‘Mother never mentioned it when she wrote.’
‘It was all fixed up rather quickly,’ Mrs. McNeil explained. ‘I thought Mother needed a change.’
‘I wish I’d known,’ Ismay said, ‘perhaps I could have arranged to have some time off. Anyway, now you’re here you must come and meet Mrs. Kynoch. We’re all having tea.’
‘No, we don’t want to intrude,’ Mr. McNeil’s voice was firm, but the words had hardly left his lips before the drawing-room door opened and Lewis emerged.
There was nothing Ismay could do but introduce him to the McNeils. Although his face remained immobile, she knew perfectly well that he realized the identity of the unexpected guests. His voice, however, was warmly welcoming as he said, ‘Come in and have a cup of tea. My mother will be delighted to meet you,’ and then to Ismay, ‘Fetch some more cups and saucers, there’s a good girl,’ and giving her no time to refuse ushered Mr. and Mrs. McNeil into the drawing-room.
By the time Ismay returned it was obvious that Lewis had made the McNeils quite at home. Not only had introductions been made but Mrs. McNeil had lost no time in explaining their exact connection with Ismay. She could see a look of gloating curiosity on Felicity’s face as Peter’s mother got out a handkerchief and wiped away a tear. ‘You’ve no idea how pleased we were that Ismay was able to find distraction in work,’ she confided. ‘Peter’s death absolutely prostrated us all, you know.’
Ismay deliberately turned away and pretended to be helping Mrs. Kynoch pour out tea for the extra guests. Mrs. McNeil had always tended to be over-emotional and right now was running true to form, making it appear that unknowingly the Kynochs had for the last few weeks been harbouring a brokenhearted girl. There followed the most awkward half hour of her whole life, so that when the McNeils’ car finally drove away, she let out a long sigh of relief.
But her ordeal was not yet over. She had no sooner returned to the drawing-room and started to help Veronica clear up the used crockery when Felicity rounded on her. ‘I must say for a recently bereaved girl you show few signs of grief,’ she commented acidly. ‘Perhaps you’re the sort who soon finds consolation. We haven’t seen much of that Thomas fellow lately, but Roy Young’s always on the doormat. And I’m not sure you haven’t been seeking solace from other sources as well.’
There was a moment of deadly silence and then Alec said quietly, ‘You’ll apologize to Ismay for that remark. Felicity. It was most uncalled for.’
There was an even longer silence while Felicity’s lovely face turned the ugly mottled red which Ismay had seen on a previous occasion. Felicity muttered a half inaudible, ‘If I’ve said anything to offend. I’m sorry, but...’
‘That is enough!’ Alec’s voice was icy. ‘I asked you to apologize. You make even your apology sound insulting,’ and he turned to Ismay. ‘On my wife’s behalf, Ismay, I hope you’ll forgive her rudeness.’
By this time Ismay knew her own face was even more scarlet than Felicity’s and she turned hastily towards the tea trolley. ‘It’s quite all right. Please don’t say any more.’ Her voice shook with embarrassment as with Veronica’s help she began to push the trolley towards the door. Veronica had gone back to fetch the rest of the tea things when Brena appeared in the kitchen doorway carrying a couple of half-empty plates. ‘I was just in time to hear the tail end of what went on in the drawing-room,’ she remarked. ‘Take my advice and keep clear of Felicity for a while. If you don’t she’ll get even for that little episode back there. She doesn’t forgive easily, as I’ve good reason to know.’
Ismay muttered something incoherent which she hoped Brena would take as a word of thanks. It had been very kind of her to come and give her a friendly warning, but Ismay had not needed a crystal ball to know that Felicity would not forget being made to apologize in public.
Ismay knew she would have to tread carefully from now on. Certainly there would be no question now of going to the south of France, Felicity would see to that. Right from the start Ismay had known that Felicity Kynoch was a thoroughly selfish and self-centred woman. She had not until today faced the fact that she was also spiteful and malicious.
As she loaded the dishwasher, Ismay stopped long enough to wonder what Brena had meant when she said she knew what it was like to feel Felicity’s enmity. The two sisters-in-law seemed to maintain a state of armed neutrality, but what past resentments lay beneath? When together, both were scrupulously correct and polite with one another, but again, it had not needed second sight for Ismay to sense that Felicity and Brena did not really get on and had nothing in common.
The next few days passed quietly with no apparent ripples on the smooth surfa
ce of the household. Roy Young had not telephoned, but Ismay received a long letter from Ivor Thomas explaining that his apparent neglect had been due to his brother falling and breaking a hip. He assured Ismay that he would be in touch as soon as he could escape from his duties at the hotel. ‘Knowing it’s difficult for you to talk freely over the telephone,’ he went on, ‘I haven’t troubled to ring you up, but I’ve been tempted to on several occasions. It’s been absolutely chaotic here. The season’s been hotting up, of course, and the place is full. Poor old Gareth couldn’t have chosen a worse time to go into hospital. Still, he’s on the mend again now, so I hope to be able to see you soon,’ and he finished with an amusing little anecdote which had happened to two of the visitors the day previously.
It was an entertaining letter and as Ismay tucked it back into the envelope she was smiling. In the same post there had been a letter from her mother, and Ismay re-read it before she went along to give Anne her morning’s treatment.
She glanced at the last paragraph once again. Mrs. Carroll had written, ‘Did the McNeils call in to see you on their way to Scotland? I hope Peter’s mother didn’t upset you. She seems no more resigned to his death than she was when you left Cambridge, and your father says if she doesn’t pull herself together soon and stop moping she’ll be heading for a nervous breakdown.’
Ismay’s face was thoughtful as she went along the landing. She was not surprised at her father’s summing up. Mrs. McNeil had always been a highly strung woman, but she had seemed unusually nervous on that brief Sunday afternoon visit. Looking back, Ismay remembered how Mrs. McNeil’s hands had trembled as she had taken her tea cup, but in the upset of the scene with Felicity afterwards the fact had slipped her mind. As she walked into the girls’ bedroom she prayed that the holiday which had been arranged so precipitately would-be the answer to Mrs. McNeil’s problem and that she would return to Cambridge in a more philosophical frame of mind.
Half-way through the morning treatment Alec Kynoch strolled into the bedroom and watched as Anne finished off the quadriceps exercises which Ismay was helping her to do. Afterwards Alec examined the knee, his fingers moving over the operation area without seeming to cause his daughter any discomfort.
‘I think that’s getting along pretty well,’ was his verdict as he straightened. ‘By the time we go on holiday you ought to be ready to do all the swimming and running about you want,’ and he gave Anne’s hair a fatherly tweak as he headed for the door. ‘By the way,’ Alec looked over his shoulder at Ismay, ‘will you be coming with us to France? The girls and I would like to have you.’
‘I rather think not.’ Ismay’s voice was low.
After looking at her silently for a second or two Alec merely nodded as he continued on his way. He was, as Ismay reflected, as perceptive as Lewis and he did not need things spelling out. Had she felt that an explanation was only common politeness instead of her brief refusal she had quickly seen from the look in his eyes that this was quite unnecessary. He had the situation summed up as easily as Lewis would have done, almost as if he too could read her mind.
Both Clare and Anne were to have new clothes for the holiday and Ismay was given the job of taking them shopping. As well as all the upheaval of the proposed holiday in France, Lewis’s expedition to Africa was definitely on and he was working long hours getting as many of his patients into hospital as he could before he left, and handing over those whose condition was not urgent to one or other of his colleagues.
He came home late every night looking heavy-eyed and weary, and Ismay hardly saw him for more than two or three minutes at a time, and never for long enough to have a protracted conversation. On the evening before he was due to leave, however, he did manage to reach home by six o’clock and as he walked into the drawing-room where his mother was knitting blanket squares for the W.R.V.S. she looked up at him and said, ‘I’m glad to see you’re home at a decent hour for once. It’s all very well to have V.I.P. patients, but when they insist on being treated thousands of miles away and it means so much work beforehand I hardly think it’s worth while.’
Lewis dropped into an armchair and stretched out his legs. ‘Well, I was rather leaned on to do this particular job, Mother. I didn’t really have a choice. When I went to London to examine the patient I was left in no doubt that I should be expected to fall in with his wishes.’
‘Ah, I begin to see. Diplomacy!’ his mother remarked as she looked down at her knitting and began to count rows.
‘Something like that,’ Lewis replied, and yawned. ‘My goodness it’s nice to be home early and I’ve managed to fit in two iridectomies, an enucleation and three cataract extractions today as well as my outpatients. Not bad, eh? I think I’ll go and have a bath before supper,’ and getting to his feet again he strolled out of the room.
It had been raining steadily all day and Ismay and the girls had been confined to the house in consequence, but while the family were having their evening meal, the rain stopped and miraculously the sun appeared.
As they were having coffee Lewis strolled over to the window, coffee cup in hand, and remarked idly, ‘You know, I really think it’s going to be a lovely evening. You can see clear across the lake. I wouldn’t mind a walk. I’ve been in the theatre most of the day, and my goodness, it was stuffy there! I think the air-conditioning must have been out of order or something.’
‘Why don’t we go up Buttermere way for a breath of fresh air?’ Anne suggested. ‘Come on, Lewis, drive us up there for a short walk before bedtime. Please!’
Lewis turned to look at his niece. ‘I don’t know if your father would agree that it’s a good thing with that knee of yours.’
‘We can take the car most of the way,’ Anne coaxed. ‘I won’t need to climb far. It would be nice to see the view, please.’
‘Very well,’ Lewis capitulated, and put his cup down. ‘You don’t mind if I take your brats out for a couple of hours, do you, Alec? I promise not to bring them back late. I want to get to bed in good time anyway myself. I’ve got to be off by seven tomorrow morning.’
Almost as if they were afraid he might change his mind, Anne and Clare hustled their uncle out of the drawingroom. It was taken for granted that Ismay would go too and before she could protest she found herself being pushed into the back of the car by Clare.
It was a lovely evening and it was nice to get out of the house. There had been the usual chilly atmosphere in the drawing-room after supper, with Felicity sitting with a coldly contemptuous smile on her face, hardly joining in the conversation, and Ismay had privately longed for a return of the evenings when Felicity, before Alec’s return, had spent them with her friends. As she evidently had a husband who stood no nonsense perhaps she got a certain satisfaction from giving rein to her bad temper with Ismay. Certainly Ismay noticed that the atmosphere was very frigid when she was in the room, and Felicity’s animosity seemed mainly directed towards herself.
It did not take long for Lewis to get them as far as the Honister Pass, but he turned off into a side road before he reached it. He continued for a couple of miles, before driving the car on to the grass verge and switching off the engine.
He glanced at his passengers. ‘Now only a short stroll, mind,’ he reminded them. ‘And let’s keep together. It can be dangerous around here, unless you know what you’re doing. And no climbing up boulders, Anne. You’re to keep on the level as much as possible. And the minute you feel the slightest ache in your knee we turn back.’
‘All right, Uncle,’ Anne replied impudently, and dodged out of the passenger door as Lewis laughed and aimed a slap at her retreating back.
The girls would have left their anoraks in the car, but Lewis made them return and put them on. ‘We may be out for an hour or more,’ he said, ‘better take them with us in case you start feeling chilly. Neither Ismay nor I are going to come back and fetch them, I can assure you of that.’
They started up a path almost at right angles to the road where Lewis had put the car. There
was nobody else about, the only living creatures were the birds and one or two sheep ambling here and there quietly grazing. One, tamer than the others, walked slowly towards them as they came up the path, and allowed Clare to tickle it behind the ears. She had some chocolate in the pocket of her jeans and to the amusement of the others, she induced the old ewe to partake of two tablets of milk chocolate before, suddenly realizing that this was not her usual fodder, she threw up her head and lunged off into the bracken.
Anne’s face was glowing as they walked on, and she was still laughing over her sister’s experience with the sheep. ‘I wish Dick could have been with us,’ she said longingly. ‘What a pity he’s had to go on an exchange with that French boy. His mother fixed it up last year, though.’ She turned and caught Clare by the arm. ‘Do you remember,’ she asked when she had her sister’s full attention, ‘Jean-Daniel coming over to stay with the Watsons last year?’
Clare nodded, but she was obviously not very interested in Dick Watson’s French friend and she ran ahead, ignoring a warning shout from Lewis. ‘Do you realize that child is only wearing old gym shoes?’ he almost barked at Ismay. ‘Why didn’t you make her change before we came out?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ismay said, ‘but I didn’t notice what she had on her feet, and this expedition was fixed up rather quickly, remember.’
Lewis’s next sentence sounded more moderate. ‘They’re not safe up here, particularly after rain. She’ll have to be careful,’ but he stopped in mid-stride as, without warning, Clare threw up her hands and slipped gently but inexorably off the path and over a small cliff just ahead of them.
Lewis and Ismay ran forward simultaneously, and lying flat on their stomachs, peeped over the edge. To their great relief, Clare lay only a few feet below them, and a gnarled, windblown tree sticking out from the cliffside had obviously broken her fall. She was on a very narrow ledge and it was quite obvious that any violent movement would send her tumbling farther down the ever increasingly steep slope which lay below her.
Healing in the Hills Page 16