The key turned stiffly. The bolt stuck for a moment. Nell gave it a savage push to relieve her feelings, and climbed the stairs slowly. Damn Philip and his expertise at love-making! He had felt in the mood and she had been available—that was all it had meant to him, and she had been a fool to get so carried away. She lacked his casual sophistication. She was not as experienced as he was.
When she reached the top of the stairs a door opened. Elizabeth, in a blue quilted wrap, emerged from the bathroom, eyes narrowing as they took in her niece's flushed and dishevelled appearance.
'So I was right!' she gritted, hands clenching and unclenching at her side. 'You were determined to get Philip on his own.' There was a note of near-hysteria in her voice.
'You scheming little bitch, you're just like your mother- after every man in sight, totally promiscuous!'
Nell shook her head wearily, too confused to retaliate. 'Please, Elizabeth, don't make a scene. So all right, Philip kissed me. It didn't mean a thing. He made that quite obvious.'
Perhaps there was an unconscious wistfulness in her voice, for Elizabeth smiled suddenly and maliciously. 'Of course it didn't mean a thing. Philip's a normal man. He'll take what's offered, and you make it so obvious, my dear Nell.' Her hands stilled at last and she swept into her room.
*
This time, Nell thought, this time her aunt must be the one to apologise. Elizabeth had gone too far, made insulting remarks that would be difficult to forgive or forget. She rose before seven, made herself a hasty breakfast, left a not on the kitchen table for Blackie, and drove off to the Middleton-Masseys' house to borrow one of their horses.
On a windswept plateau, with not a house in sight and only the distant sound of a tractor to make her feel less alone, she came to terms with her problem. Either she had to leave Lanmore or she had to find some way to overcome Elizabeth's hostility. There had been something unpleasantly close to hatred in her aunt's eyes during those moments on the bedroom landing. How much of that emotion was due to her dislike of Nell's mother and how much to her infatuation with Philip? If it was mainly jealousy then Nell's course was plain. Steer clear of Philip. Give her aunt no cause to consider her a rival. But if the problem lay far deeper, lost in the traumas of early childhood, if she was hated because she was her mother's daughter, then, thought Nell unhappily, there really was no solution.
Her grandfather might know, but she couldn't possibly worry the old man. Blackie could almost certainly supply an answer, but she was too partisan to be objective. Dr MacFarlane? He had known them all since before Nell was born. She would go and see him, ask his advice and hope that he could help her.
She telephoned Dr MacFarlane from the village pub where she had lunch, and returned to Lanmore at three o'clock. The doctor was in his house, waiting for her. A man of few words, he wasted no time on the social niceties but ushered her into his small room where he saw private patients.
'Well, my dear, what is it?' A rueful glance at the clock. 'I have a couple of visits to make, so I'd appreciate it if you'd get to the point.'
Thus urged, Nell did her best. She stammered a little to begin with, while Dr MacFarlane sat at the big desk, head down and brows drawn together in a frown of concentration. He was a good listener and Nell got it all out, trying hard for objectivity, simply stating facts. She ended up with an appeal for help.
'You've known us all so long, Dr Mac. You've been a good friend, and I do need help.'
'So does Elizabeth,' Dr Mac answered dryly, looking up at last to give one of his penetrating stares. Under that uncomfortably direct glance Nell's cheeks began to burn.
'So you think it's all my fault,' she said defeatedly. 'You're on Elizabeth's side?'
'Child! Child!' The doctor's tone was gently admonishing. 'I'm on nobody's side, but her problems are greater than yours. She's at a difficult stage in a woman's life, when she sees her youth slipping away, her hopes of marriage nearly gone. Of course she resents you. You're young and pretty, with your whole life ahead of you.'
'And the other things I told you? About my mother? And ... about Philip?'
'I am not God,' Dr MacFarlane pronounced, heavily sarcastic. 'I cannot read people's minds.' He followed these portentous remarks with an unexpected twinkling smile. 'Oh, Nell, Nell, you should have studied enough psychology to know that motives are usually mixed. It doesn't help that your aunt and your mother never got on. It doesn't help that she is—or fancies she is—in love with Trent.' He looked down at his blotter, his mouth compressed. 'I'll talk to Elizabeth. I'll call after I've made my visits. Now be a good girl and go away.'
Nell went off not too unhappily. Deciding to stay away until after Dr MacFarlane's visit, she rode back to the Middleton-Masseys' and spent the rest of the afternoon with them. By the time she returned home the doctor had been and gone—that much was obvious from Elizabeth's opening remark.
'So you've been telling tales to Sandy,' her aunt said softly, putting down the vase of daffodils she was carrying and straightening to look at her niece.
Nell's heart was thumping with apprehension. Not another scene! she thought. Surely, surely Dr Mac had persuaded her aunt to be reasonable? 'I went to him for advice,' she answered quietly. 'I think you'll agree that we do need some help.'
'Speak for yourself, Nell!' The older woman's voice was acid. 'However, Sandy is right. Father mustn't be upset. We owe it to him that his last years should be happy ones.' Elizabeth was given to saying things like that, which always had the effect of making Nell horribly embarrassed. Difficult to answer too, and Elizabeth was waiting for a reply.
'Of course,' Nell mumbled, ill at ease and inarticulate. 'Yes, of course, Elizabeth.'
'So we have to make an effort, Nell. Keep the peace for Father's sake. I shall certainly do my best.' She tilted her head and looked down her long nose at the girl, a habit that Nell had always found disconcerting.
'Oh, so will I,' she agreed hastily, and put out a tentative hand towards her aunt.
Elizabeth chose to ignore this. She gave a brisk nod, drew a finger across the old oak dresser behind her, frowned at the trace of dust on it, and departed in the direction of the kitchen. So with this exchange Nell had to be content. It was a truce, which was at least better than open warfare. On the surface life would go on as before, though she was sure she would always feel ill at ease in her aunt's company.
One thing she was quite determined about. She would stay away from Philip, not only to avoid rows with her aunt, but for her own peace of mind. She didn't want to remember the effect he had on her. She would take good care not to be alone with him again.
She was relieved to learn that he had gone off to Copenhagen and Stockholm—some business trip—a meeting with potential customers, her grandfather said. 'Brainy chap, Philip,' he commented. 'He tried to explain his work to me, but I'm a fool over physics. You'd probably understand, Nell.'
They were having tea alone, just the two of them, for Elizabeth was at a W.I. meeting. Nell laughed and told her grandfather that she doubted it. A-levels were as far as she could have gone in pure science. 'When I think about it now I'm staggered that I ever passed physics. But I was dead keen to do medicine, so I suppose that spurred me on.'
Her grandfather harrumphed, a trick he had when he was about to come out with something important. 'Sandy says you're a good doctor. That I ought to be proud of you.'
He was staring into the fire and Nell gave him a loving look. 'And aren't you?' she teased.
'Harrumph!' the Colonel went again, turned a dull red and scowled at his granddaughter. 'You needn't think I approve of your career—or ever will—but since you've taken it on the least you can do is be good at it.'
And that was as near as he ever came to admitting that Dr MacFarlane was right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A fortnight passed before Nell remembered that she hadn't talked to her family about Blackie, then one morning she went into the kitchen to find the housekeeper slumped at the table, looking ver
y flushed.
'I get these turns now and then, Nell. Don't fuss, dear. I'll be all right.'
Blackie was nearly as bad as Nell's grandfather in her abhorrence of all things medical. Reluctantly she allowed Nell to feel her pulse, and admitted that she had been suffering from increasing bouts of giddiness for quite a long time.
'And headaches?'
'Everyone has headaches now and then,' Blackie said evasively, and Nell laughed in spite of her unease.
'Thank goodness you're not really my patient! When did you last see Dr Mac?'
'Not for years. There's nothing wrong with me,' Blackie said stoutly, her colour beginning to return to normal. 'Is there?' she added, apprehension showing through her defiance.
'Oh, Blackie!' Nell gave the older woman a hug. 'Maybe you've been overdoing it. I'm ashamed that I forgot to talk to Grandpa about the house.'
'You've had problems of your own,' said Blackie, returning the hug affectionately. 'Pity people can't be renovated like houses, dearie!'
'They can sometimes,' Nell smiled. 'Made to work more efficiently anyway! We all need help as we get older. Go and see Dr Mac, and I'll talk to Grandpa and Aunt Elizabeth about the house.'
That evening she told them bluntly that if they didn't do something about lightening Blackie's work load they might lose her.
'Millie comes in three mornings from the village,' Elizabeth protested, but Nell shook her head.
'It's not enough. This house is so old-fashioned. The kitchen needs major renovations. The bathrooms too, and the floors.'
'Solid oak planks. Nothing wrong with them,' the Colonel said indignantly.
'They need sanding and polishing and sealing. Oh, Grandpa, you must spend some money on the house! If Blackie has to give up we won't find anyone else willing to take on her job.'
'Blackie give up?' Elizabeth looked horrified.
'I think—mind, I'm not absolutely sure—that she has high blood pressure. She's seeing Dr Mac tomorrow. If she has got it he'll either tell her to rest more, or he'll advise her to give up altogether.'
'I'll think about it,' Colonel Whitehead said tetchily. 'But builder chaps all over the place! Drive me crazy! Cost such a lot!'
'Rubbish!' said Nell firmly. 'Of course you can afford it. You must have made a small fortune on the farm and the land you sold to Philip.'
The Colonel muttered about capital gains tax and the high cost of living, but agreed that financially it could be done. 'Though mind, there'll be less for you girls when I go.'
'I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Father.' When the old man had left the room Elizabeth said thoughtfully, 'If he does agree to modernise the house it would go for far more when we sell it.' At Nell's startled look she added sharply, 'I'm not anticipating Father's death, so don't look so shocked. But I've been thinking for years that we ought to leave this place, find a nice modern house. Something easy to run, like Philip's house.'
'Grandpa would hate it. Can't we stick it out here for as long as possible?'
'We?' Elizabeth asked acidly.
'You, then. But if I decide to join the MacFarlanes' practice I'll be able to help out.'
'As a full-time G.P.? I doubt that. And perhaps Blackie isn't as bad as you think she is.'
But Blackie was worse. Dr MacFarlane spoke to Nell at the end of morning surgery. 'She has severe hypertension. I'm starting her on treatment straight away. You'll have to find temporary help until we see how she does.'
Blackie refused to be an invalid at the Manor, saying it would only make extra work for them. She chose to go and stay with a widowed sister in the district, promising she would be back as soon as Dr MacFarlane gave the word. Colonel Whitehead raised no more objections to Nell's suggestions and the builders were available earlier than expected.
'Say they can start next week,' the old man announced gloomily. 'Not much work hereabouts, so they're delighted to have a big job on hand.'
'And it will be a big job,' Philip remarked, when they told him the news. 'Be much better if you all cleared out and left them to it!' They could stay in his house, he suggested. He had plenty of room and an excellent housekeeper.
The Colonel demurred, but Elizabeth looked pleased. Nell suggested that her grandfather and her aunt should go, and she would find somewhere else. 'The MacFarlanes, perhaps? It would be so handy for work.'
'That might be best,' Elizabeth agreed, but Philip overruled her. One more visitor would make no difference. They might as well stay together, and if his housekeeper couldn't cope she could have extra help. So it was settled and they would be moving in on Monday week. Nell felt a faint unease at the prospect of living in Philip's house, but could think of no good reason for refusing without causing offence.
'I think my aunt would have preferred me to go somewhere else,' she told Andrew after the Thursday surgery. 'She didn't look too pleased when Philip insisted.'
'Then come to us. You'd be most welcome.'
'I know, Andy, and I nearly asked you to have me, but it would be awkward rejecting Philip's offer.' She sighed. 'Life's getting me down. I could do with another break.'
'Then how about coming to London with me this Saturday? Q.C.H. is playing a good team from South Wales.'
Nell was only a moderate enthusiast for rugby, but it would be an opportunity to meet her friends. 'I'd like that, but what about the Saturday morning surgery?'
'We'll leave after the surgery. I'll ask Miss Winter to keep the list small, and we'll take a packed lunch.'
Nell laughed and shook her head. 'Even the way you belt along, we wouldn't make it.'
'We'll be on time for the start,' Andrew promised, and he was right. They made it with ten minutes to spare. Warmly clad in duffle coat and fur-lined boots, Nell wandered away from Andrew, whose whole attention was on the game. She found Jimmy Green with Belinda hanging lovingly on his arm, and joined them for an exchange of gossip.
At half time she introduced them to Andrew, who was less cheerful than usual because the Q.C.H. team was doing badly.
'Thirteen nil down,' he gloomed, 'and they seem to have given up. They're not trying.'
'Is he always like that?' Belinda asked as Andrew's stocky figure plunged through the crowd when the game began again.
'I don't know,' Nell smiled. 'It's the first time we've been to a rugger match together.'
'Make it the last time,' Belinda advised. 'A man who's more interested in a game than the girl he's with isn't worth cultivating.'
Nell laughed and shook her head. 'You've a one-track mind, Belle. I'm not interested in Andrew, so I don't mind what he does.'
'Just as well,' retorted Belinda, 'or poor Ted would be upset.'
At the end of the game Jimmy suggested that they teamed up and made a night of it.
Nell looked down at herself doubtfully. 'I didn't dress for an evening out.'
'No problem,' Belinda observed. 'Come back to Q.C.H. and I'll lend you something. We've swapped clothes before.'
So clad in a long red dress of Belinda's, with Belinda's make-up on her face and another friend's sandals on her feet, Nell went on the town and thoroughly enjoyed herself. After the strain of recent family life she felt an unaccustomed urge to break out. She drank more than usual, laughed a great deal and didn't worry too much about Andrew's increasing amorousness.
'Thought you said you weren't interested in Andrew,' Belinda remarked, when the two girls were alone in the powder room of the club.
Nell coloured a little. 'I'm not.'
'You could have fooled me,' said Belinda, with an unusual touch of dryness.
'Oh, Belle! Life's been a bit difficult lately,' Nell sighed. 'And Andy's good fun. Besides, Ted's just another friend —I've told you that before.'
'You have an odd way of treating your friends,' Belinda commented disapprovingly. 'Why won't you let him pay you a visit?'
Ted had twice suggested coming down to Lanmore, and both times Nell had put him off. 'Because I don't want him getting too serious. If I let h
im come down he'll get the wrong idea.'
'It's your life,' Belinda shrugged, leaning close to the mirror to inspect her eye make-up. 'But you've certainly changed. You used to be such a quiet girl.'
And still was beneath the gay exterior. Not even to herself was Nell prepared to admit that she was using Andrew as an antidote to Philip. The thought had risen in her mind, to be quickly suppressed. Why should she need an antidote? She was surely in danger of reading too much into those few kisses they had exchanged. 'But I wish it was Philip here instead of Andrew,' she thought, and felt ashamed of her lack of gratitude. Andrew was doing his best to give her an enjoyable evening. Besides, Philip was too mature to fit into the present company. Jimmy and Belinda might be qualified doctors, but they retained much of their medical student humour. They were not educated outside their own field.
'Hey, Nell!' Jimmy snapped his fingers under her nose. 'We were saying it's time to break this up.'
Nell looked at her watch and pulled a face. 'We won't be back till dawn, Andy, though I suppose it doesn't matter. Tomorrow is Sunday.'
'And since it's Sunday we needn't return at all,' Andrew retorted. 'I'm sure we'll find somewhere for the night.'
A hotel? With Andrew? Nell knew what that would mean—an unpleasant scene when he came knocking on her door. It would be her own fault too, for encouraging him all night. Belinda was watching her with a half smile that said quite plainly, 'Serve you right for leading him on!'
'I think we'd better go home,' Nell decided, and Jimmy gave her a horrified look.
'You must be crazy! With all that booze inside him? Want to die young, Nell?'
Nell remembered the way Andrew had belted up the motorway that afternoon and shuddered at the thought. 'I suppose we'd better stay...' Her words tailed off at the sudden gleam in Andrew's eye.
It was then that Belinda took pity on her. 'You'll never get into a hotel at this hour,' she said firmly. 'We'll find you somewhere in the residents' quarters.' Dear, helpful, bossy Belinda! She overruled Andrew's objections, took them back to College Street, bade a loving farewell to Jimmy and ushered them into the common-room, where a few sleepy residents had still not gone to bed.
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