'I'd better get back,' she said, calling the dogs from where they were rooting through the bushes. 'Goodbye, Mr—goodbye, Philip.' She said his name a little shyly, and was annoyed with herself because of it.
'Tell Elizabeth I'll look in this evening,' he called after her, and Nell nodded, trudging off through the wood, crunching over the ice-covered leaves on the narrow path.
When she passed on Philip's message at breakfast, her aunt looked pleased. 'He's been an absolute brick. I don't know how I'd have managed without him.'
'Is he on holiday?'
Elizabeth shook her head. 'I don't think so. Why?'
'Then is he so rich he doesn't need to work?' asked Nell with a touch of sarcasm.
'He works very hard,' answered Elizabeth. 'But he does a good deal at home.'
'A good deal of what? Blackie says he has some sort of engineering firm.'
'Yes, I suppose you could call it that,' Elizabeth said, almost as vaguely as Blackie had done. 'There was a piece about him recently in one of the Sunday papers. They called him one of Britain's brightest assets in the export market. And he's not just clever, Nell. He's such a kind, thoughtful man.' Her aunt's rather pale face glowed and Nell looked at her curiously.
Was it possible that the cool aloof Elizabeth, whom she never remembered showing an interest in any man, was seriously involved with Philip? Surely she was too old for him? And if the feeling was one-sided there could be nothing but unhappiness ahead for her. Nell was relieved that Elizabeth showed signs of greater friendliness this morning. Perhaps her stiff manner yesterday had been due more to awkwardness than to hostility. A five-year gap in communications took time to bridge, especially as they had never had a close relationship. Apart from her grandfather, it had been Blackie whom the child Nell had turned to for warmth and affection.
Later that morning they drove to the hospital. Colonel Whitehead was sufficiently recovered to be difficult, announced the Sister in charge of the intensive care unit. 'Please use your influence with him, Miss Whitehead. Make him understand he'll get better more quickly if he cooperates with us.'
'I'll do what I can,' Elizabeth said, with less self-assurance than she usually showed. 'But my father can be very obstinate.'
The understatement of the century, thought Nell, giving the sister a sympathetic smile, because she was more aware of the poor woman's problems than her non-medical aunt.
'Perhaps you could say something, Dr Ramsay?'
'I could try,' Nell agreed doubtfully, but her efforts met with total defeat.
'Don't you start telling me what to do, my girl! I detest bossy females.' The Colonel glared from his daughter to his granddaughter. 'As if I don't have enough to put up with from the nurses!'
'Now, darling, you know they're marvellous women,' soothed Elizabeth.
'Of course they're good girls, but do they have to treat me as if I was in my second childhood?' The Colonel subsided into aggrieved silence, while Sister, who had been staying tactfully in the background, moved forward and urged him not to excite himself.
'See what I mean?' the old man muttered, and Nell laid a cool hand on his forehead.
'Then the more you co-operate, Grandpa, the quicker you'll get away from them! We could nurse you at home once you're a little better.'
His eyes opened wide and his lips twitched. 'Could you really? And what about that fine career of yours? I thought it came first with you.'
'Oh, Grandpa, of course it doesn't.' Nell caught the Sister's eye. 'We'll talk about it later, when you're feeling more up to it. Right now Sister wants you to rest.'
Elizabeth went off to shop, but Nell sat on beside the old man, and presently he drifted off to sleep. His colour was better today and his face looked less pinched. As she watched beside him Nell was swept by a tide of emotion, that brought tears to her eyes. How could she have quarrelled with her grandfather? However difficult he might be, he was the man who had sat her on his knee when she was a little girl, who had kissed her better when she hurt herself, who had put her up on her first pony, who had been father and mother both to her. A warm-hearted, hot-tempered, lovable old man. Overwhelmed by a sense of guilt, she prayed passionately for his survival. If only he would get better she would give up medicine, at least for the present. Six months or a year away from a hospital needn't mean the end of her career.
Philip was a good as his word, calling in that evening at about six. Young Dr MacFarlane, whom Nell had known since her childhood, was already there. The MacFarlanes were family friends and Andrew had the evening off.
'Dad's turn for surgery,' he had announced cheerfully on his arrival. 'Thought it would be nice to catch up oil your news, Nell.'
They were chatting about Queen's College Hospital, which was also Andrew's old school, and Elizabeth was knitting and not paying much attention, when the doorbell rang.
Elizabeth jumped up quickly, so that her knitting rolled on to the carpet. 'I expect that's Philip. I'll go.'
Andrew gave Nell a knowing wink. 'Dad says she's mad about him. It worries him quite a lot.'
'I wondered myself,' Nell admitted, thinking that 'mad' was too strong a word to apply to her calm, controlled aunt, 'But why should it worry him?'
'He's fond of her. I suppose he doesn't want to see her hurt.'
'You don't think Mr Trent might be interested too?'
Andrew laughed. 'Be your age! He's years younger. Well, four or five years. Rich, presentable and successful —is he likely to go for an older woman? Especially when he has hordes of gorgeous girl-friends?'
Nell had already discovered that Andrew was prone to exaggeration. A cheerful extrovert, with a round good-tempered face, he was excellent company, but she sensed that her aunt didn't entirely approve of him.
There was the murmur of voices from the hall. The others seemed in no hurry to join them, a fact which Andrew pointed out with a grin. 'Tell you what, why don't I take you to the Fox and Hounds? Leave the field clear for Elizabeth?'
The Fox and Hounds was the village pub. 'I'd like that, Andrew, but we'd better stay a few minutes or it might look rude.'
Philip greeted Andrew politely, told Nell he was delighted to hear of her grandfather's continued good progress, and accepted a whisky from Elizabeth. His manner was that of a man who was completely at home in this house. His conversation seemed a deliberate attempt to divert Elizabeth's mind from worrying about her father.
When the telephone rang they all looked at each other. Then Nell jumped up. 'Let me answer it. No reason why it should be the hospital.'
It wasn't. While Elizabeth went to talk to a friend, Philip drew his chair nearer to the fire and spoke quietly to Nell.
'Is it true that you're staying on for some time?'
'I can stay,' Nell answered cautiously, not yet convinced of her welcome, at least as far as her aunt was concerned.
A look of scorn crossed his face, 'Surely you haven't changed your mind? Elizabeth told me ‑'
'I'll stay if they want me to, Mr Trent.'
'Haven't you another job lined up?' asked Andrew, and she shook her head.
'I've applied for one or two—the Obstetric Unit at Q.C.H.—and another one in London, but I've heard nothing yet.'
'If you're offered the one at Queen's you musn't turn it down,' Andrew said firmly. 'You're at a crucial stage in your career, when you've just been registered. You can't afford to miss the boat.'
'I know,' Nell agreed, staring into the fire and avoiding Philip's eyes. 'I can't stay away too long, but if they want me here for a few months—if I can do anything to help ‑'
'A few months!' Andrew exploded. 'You'll forget everything you've learnt.'
'You don't think Nell owes anything to her family?' Philip's cool voice brought Nell's head round sharply.
'Ye-es, but in my opinion they haven't treated her particularly well. I think it's jolly decent of her to have come at all.'
'You do?' Philip's voice managed to convey both disagreement and disapprova
l. 'Take a bow, Nell! At least you have one champion.'
She flushed under his mocking glance. 'Let's not rake up the past, Andrew. If Elizabeth needs me ‑'
'She does,' Philip said softly.
'And if Grandpa wants me to stay, then of course I will. I may not be offered either of those jobs anyway. Lots of my friends have applied for them too.'
'The obstetric one must be yours for the asking,' Andrew said knowingly. 'The Prof has a weakness for pretty girls.' He gazed admiringly at Nell and nodded towards Philip. 'Never thought she'd turn out like this! Such a skinny little kid, all arms and legs. Used to tag around after me in the school holidays ‑'
'Oh, Andrew, do shut up!' Embarrassment made Nell revert to schoolgirl language.
'Wouldn't mind if she showed an interest now,' Andrew added, grinning broadly, and Nell gave him a cross look.
'Do stop being such an idiot! Have you had too much to drink?'
'One Scotch? Have a heart, love! Which reminds me, shall we be off?'
Nell wasn't especially keen to go out with him now, but longed to get away from Philip, who had a way of looking at her that completely destroyed her composure. It was a cold wet night, and it would have been pleasant to sit by the fire, but not in the company of Philip and her aunt.
'Can't stand that chap,' Andrew muttered as they walked to his car. 'Beats me why Dad thinks so highly of him.'
'Probably because he's rich and successful,' Nell suggested.
Andrew started up the car before replying. 'Dad's not like that. Outward show means nothing to him. It's the inner man he cares about, and I must say he's a pretty shrewd judge of character. Should be after years in our racket!'
Andrew's approach to medicine was light-hearted, at least outwardly, but that he cared about his work became apparent as the evening progressed. They moved on from the Fox and Hounds to a roadhouse, which hadn't existed when Nell left home. In these rather incongruous surroundings Andrew gave her an enthusiastic account of his plans to modernise the surgery.
'We need extra examination rooms, so that we don't have to wait ten minutes while old Mrs Muggins removes ten layers of clothes! And our equipment's out of the Ark. We need a new receptionist too! Our present one looks like Dracula!'
In between these remarks he danced with her and introduced her to several of his friends. It was past midnight before he brought her home, parking his car a short distance from the front door and turning towards her.
'It's been great seeing you. We must do it again.' He cupped her chin with his hand, turned her face towards him and kissed her on the mouth. His breath smelt of whisky and cigarette smoke. When he let her go Nell moved away from him, one hand on the door. She didn't want Andrew becoming really amorous, not outside her aunt's bedroom windows! Not anywhere for that matter, at least until she knew him better.
'I've enjoyed it, Andy. Thank you very much.'
As she let herself into the house she speculated with amusement as to what Andrew must have been like as a medical student and houseman. Mad about rugby, only average scholastically, a great one for the nurses almost certainly. She liked him, but found it difficult to take him seriously, apart from his obvious enthusiasm for his work.
As she passed her aunt's door, Elizabeth called out. She was sitting up in bed, wrapped in a pale blue bedjacket, reading the current issue of Vogue. 'I couldn't settle till I knew you were back.' A hint of reproach in the cool voice.
'Sorry, Aunt Elizabeth, but I am grown up, you know. What did you think might happen to me?'
'With that young man, anything! He drives his M.G. like a racing car, and Philip said he was already half drunk when he left here.' Elizabeth removed the spectacles she wore these days for reading, her mouth a thin line of disapproval.
'What nonsense! Andrew knows when to stop.' Not for anything would Nell have admitted that Andrew's style of driving didn't exactly appeal to her either.
'Does he? I feel it's my duty to warn you that he has a bad reputation where women are concerned. Though knowing what modern students are like you probably won't care.'
Nell hung on to her temper with difficulty. It would never do to have a row so soon after returning. 'Aunt Elizabeth,' she said quietly, 'you mustn't believe everything you hear about medical students—any students for that matter. We're not all promiscuous. I shan't be hopping into bed with Andrew at the first opportunity.'
An angry flush appeared on her aunt's cheeks and crept down her neck. She looked older than her years now, prim arid disapproving. 'Do you have to be so coarse? Though I suppose after all those years in medical school you're bound to become unfeminine. Philip says ‑'
'For goodness' sake, Aunt Elizabeth! I'm sorry, but I don't want to hear what Philip says. I'm well aware that his opinion of me isn't very high.'
Elizabeth's prim expression was replaced by a rather smug look. 'Well, you see, he prefers women who behave like women. He's such a masculine man himself, isn't he?'
'Oh, sure, if by masculine you mean overbearing and opinionated. I quite agree that he's been a good friend to you and Grandpa, but he's just not my type, Aunt Elizabeth.'
Elizabeth smiled faintly, her annoyance quite gone. 'Just as well, dear, since the feeling's mutual. And don't you think you could drop the aunt bit? As you say, you are grown up.'
Colonel Whitehead continued to improve, and when she wasn't visiting him, Nell travelled around the district renewing acquaintance with old friends and old haunts. Most people were pleased to see her, but a few were a little cool towards her, and these, Nell noticed, tended to be Elizabeth's friends too. Without doubt her aunt had said some very disagreeable things about her, after she had left home. Nell wondered how much her grandfather's adamant refusal to make up their quarrel had been influenced by Elizabeth's attitude.
Now he was touchingly eager to bury the past. As a doctor she knew this was a common reaction when someone had nearly died. Such a grim reminder of mortality made most people regret wasted time and warped relationships. The Colonel liked to chat about the old days, especially when Nell was a child, and as he grew stronger die nurses allowed him to talk more. One day, when Nell was sitting with him, Dr Franks, who was the physician in charge, came to see him.
'Don't run away, Dr Ramsay. Pleased with your grandfather's progress?'
'Very pleased. He looks a different man.'
'It's astonishing that I do,' grumbled the Colonel. 'That intensive care unit was enough to frighten a man to death. Nurses hovering over you, flicking out their syringes at the drop of a hat! And that damned E.C.G. machine monitoring every heartbeat.''
Dr Franks smiled benignly at his patient and caught Nell's eye. 'Sure sign they're on the mend when they start to grumble! If he behaves himself he should be ready to go home next week. You've managed to arrange for a resident nurse?'
Nell said that she had, with the help of Dr MacFarlane and his receptionist, who might be a dragon, but was hyper-efficient. Outside the old man's room, Dr Franks laid a friendly hand on her shoulder.
'Sure you can cope? That aunt of yours tends to go to pieces in an emergency. You won't panic if he has another coronary?'
'Might he?'
'My dear girl!' Dr Franks' face wore the pained expression that her teachers had assumed, when she gave a particularly foolish answer on a ward round. 'You know quite well that the risk of a second coronary is considerable, especially at his age. He may have another, he may not, I can't say more.'
The house physician winked at Nell behind his chief's back.
'Of course, Dr Franks. It was a silly question,' she agreed. 'I don't seem able to look at things in a detached way where my own family are concerned.'
'We're all the same, my dear.' Dr Franks patted her shoulder again. 'Doctors not only make the worst patients, they make the worst patients' relatives,' and laughing at his little joke he went off with his houseman and his registrar.
Elizabeth greeted the good news with a mixture of apprehension and pleasure. 'Wel
l, of course I'm delighted, Nell, but what if he has a relapse?'
'Nurse Taylor will call Dr MacFarlane.'
'And if she's off duty?'
'Then I shall be around, at least until he's past the convalescent stage.'
'You won't be able to gad around so much,' Elizabeth pointed out. Why did her choice of words, and even more her way of delivering them, always imply criticism? Blackie had told Nell that the village girls rarely stayed, finding Elizabeth too much of a perfectionist, and too intent on putting them in their place when they showed a tendency towards familiarity.
'It doesn't do in this day and age,' Blackie observed, over tea in her room, an almost daily routine for them both. 'But she can't forget that she's Miss Whitehead of Lanmore Manor. Thank goodness you're not like that, Nell. It was a good thing you got away when you did.'
'Oh, Blackie, it's nice to have one person who understands. Aunt Elizabeth makes no effort, and Grandpa has only forgiven me because he's been too ill to care.'
'Not a bit of it,' Blackie said briskly. 'He'd die rather than admit it, but he's proud of you secretly. Especially now he can see for himself that you're just the same girl, in spite of your fine degree.'
Her remark reminded Nell of what Elizabeth had told her. 'Mr Trent doesn't agree, Blackie. He doesn't approve of educated women.'
'I can't believe he's so narrow-minded.'
'Aunt Elizabeth says he thinks they're unfeminine.' That conversation still rankled, and Nell coloured with annoyance.
Blackie gave a loud sniff. 'Your aunt has a habit of embroidering things. I wouldn't let it bother you. He probably said nothing of the sort. He's far too sensible.'
But Nell thought that her aunt's remarks might well be true. Philip was just the sort of man who preferred his women to be demure and malleable, decorative certainly, but most definitely not argumentative. As she tended to be in his company, she thought ruefully. Fortunately he had been away for several days at his London office, for she still found it a strain to maintain a cool composed manner when he dropped in of an evening to see Elizabeth.
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