“Hello, child. There’s no need to tiptoe. I heard you arrive, and I heard you come into the room. I have to pretend to be asleep sometimes, otherwise I’d never get any peace. Old Nancy hangs around me as if she were afraid I’d run away.”
Vanessa blinked, and for a brief moment, hovered between laughter and tears. She moved swiftly to the bed and dropped on her knees, putting her arms around the tiny figure.
“Oh, darling Aunt Maud! Why didn’t you write to me before? I’ll never forgive myself for—
“Child, child—” The thin fingers clasped around Vanessa’s hand. “It’s all right. I knew you’d come.”
Vanessa brushed her cheek against the velvet soft one of her aunt. “I’d have come much sooner if I’d known you were ill.”
“Ill? Who says I’m ill? I never heard such nonsense. Stop fussing, child, and tell me what you thought of Ian Hamilton. One of these days I shall close my eyes and quietly slip away. But ill? Never.”
Vanessa brought up a chair and sat down. “I—didn’t meet him. His sister met me at the station and drove me here.”
“But didn’t you have lunch with them?”
Vanessa shook her head. “She did ask me, but I wanted to come straight home to you.”
“Tut, tut, child But no matter. You will meet him soon.”
Her lids closed heavily. Vanessa eyed her aunt anxiously. Was she, in fact, slowly losing her hold on life, and not, as she had said, merely pretending to be asleep? Then the bright blue eyes were wide open again.
“Well? Don’t look at me like that. You’re getting to be as bad as Nancy. Go down and get yourself some lunch.”
“Very well, Aunt Maud, if you’re sure you’ll be all right. But what about your lunch? You must eat something.”
A thin hand waved her away, and before Vanessa left the room, the tired eyes closed again.
Vanessa went downstairs thoughtfully. How ill was her aunt really; how close to the time when she would close her eyes for the last time? Tonight, if the doctor came, she would have a word with him. Meanwhile, she would help Nancy put the house in some kind of order and look in on Aunt Maud from time to time.
After a hasty lunch, Vanessa cleaned and polished the hall, then went to the village stores while Nancy tidied the kitchen. She was making preparations for dinner when there was the sound of a car outside.
“That will probably be Dr. Upson, Miss Vanessa,” Nancy said.
Vanessa whipped off her apron. “I’ll let him in. I want to have a word with him.”
She had never met the doctor, and he looked younger than she expected, but he had that air of confidence and authority that most doctors have. His dark, straight hair was parted at the side, his features were fine and clear-cut, and his face tanned more like that of a man who lived an outdoor life—an interesting, rather than a strictly handsome face. His lean figure moved easily as he walked toward her carrying a basket of fruit.
He thrust the basket into her hands. “For both you and your aunt. How is she?”
A little taken aback by his unceremonious greeting, she glanced at the delicious-looking peaches and grapes sitting on huge oranges and grapefruits.
“Well, I—was hoping you could tell me that.”
“Oh? I thought you could draw your own conclusions—aside from having a chat with the doctor.”
Vanessa was beginning to feel somewhat exasperated. “I certainly do want to have a talk with you, doctor. Drawing one’s own conclusions is not good enough with someone like my Aunt Maud. I want to know—”
She would have gone on, but the doctor’s eyes widened, and the rather grave features relaxed into something like faint amusement.
“Did you call me doctor?”
She stared at him. “Aren’t you—”
“I’m afraid not. My name is Ian Hamilton.”
Vanessa drew an angry breath. “It might have saved us both some embarrassment if you had introduced yourself, Mr. Hamilton.”
His eyebrows shot up still farther. “I’m not embarrassed. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions so readily. I’ve come to inquire about your aunt—and see her, if she’s—”
“My aunt is asleep. I don’t think she should be disturbed.” she told him swiftly.
Ian Hamilton gave her a steady look. For a split second Vanessa felt something within her crumbling, then her lips came together firmly. He might have his sister under his thumb and have somehow managed to gain Aunt Maud’s regard, but he was not going to win her over so easily!
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, in a tone which clearly cast doubts on her truthfulness. “But if your aunt asks for me at any time, I hope you will let me know.”
“Naturally. And now if you’ll excuse me—”
She was appalled at her own rudeness. Why had she taken such a dislike to this man? It was quite unlike her.
A noticeably steely look came into his gray eyes. Then he turned and went back to his car without another word.
As his car crunched its way down the drive, Vanessa sighed heavily and went indoors again. She couldn’t think what had come over her. She had not even thanked him properly for the fruit.
She took the basket upstairs and quietly opened the door of Aunt Maud’s room, hoping that she was indeed sleeping. But the blue eyes were wide open.
“I heard a car,” she said at once. “Who was it?”
Vanessa noted mentally that her aunt missed absolutely nothing.
“It was Ian Hamilton,” she was forced to answer. “He brought you this basket of fruit. Isn’t it lovely?”
“Ian?” demanded Aunt Maud. “Why in heaven’s name didn’t he come up?”
“I—thought you were asleep.”
Aunt Maud eyed her fiercely. “So you prevented him from coming up to see me? Why?”
Vanessa shook her head quickly, thinking she had better humor her aunt.
“No particular reason. I’ve told you, darling, I thought—”
“You didn’t try to find out whether I was asleep or not, did you?”
Vanessa did not know what to say. This cross-questioning was quite unlike her aunt. But she was saved from replying by Aunt Maud speaking again.
“What did you think of him?” she quizzed.
This, too, was difficult. “Well, I—only spoke to him for a few minutes.”
“Mm! You didn’t like him, did you? That’s easy to see. But no matter. He and I exchanged a few sharp words the first time we met, I remember. Take the fruit downstairs, child, and eat it yourself. I hope you thanked him nicely.”
Once more Vanessa was saved from answering an awkward question. This time by Aunt Maud closing her eyes.
Dr. Upson arrived a short time later. Vanessa spoke to him while Nancy was persuading Aunt Maud to eat a little dinner. He confirmed Vanessa’s fears that her aunt was having periods of unconsciousness, rather than merely pretending to be asleep as she said.
“Your aunt has had a good game,” he told her. “She has led a very active life, as you may know, even if she has stayed to herself. She’s kept this huge place clean with very little help, as well as doing a great deal of the gardening.”
“Yes, I know. So you—don’t think she’ll ever get up again?”
He shook his head. “No, I do not, Miss Woodrow, though how long that obstinate heart of hers will continue to tick over, I can’t tell you. Will you be staying with her long?”
“As long as she needs me,” she assured him.
Vanessa wrote to her parents saying that she would be staying with Aunt Maud for an indefinite period. She helped Nancy spring clean the entire house and took turns sleeping in the dressing room attached to her aunt’s bedroom, in case she wanted anything during the night. It soon became evident that day and night were one to Aunt Maud. Dreams and reality, past and present, were merged into one in her confused mind.
Repeatedly, she spoke to Vanessa by name. Once, she murmured—and Vanessa did not know whether she was awake or asleep.
&n
bsp; “Vanessa, don’t ever sell Puck’s Hill. Promise me.”
“Darling, of course I won’t.”
Vaguely, she wondered whether her aunt had made out a will, or if not, who was her nearest relative. Vanessa’s father? But she put aside any serious thought of her aunt’s passing. It was too unhappy to contemplate.
She was in one of the village stores one morning. The proprietor asked how Aunt Maud was and made one or two comments on her life. The other customer in the store was a young man whom Vanessa had never seen before, but as new houses were being built in the village all the time, this wasn’t surprising.
When she went out, however, the young man followed her. “Can I give you a lift back to Puck’s Hill, Miss Woodrow?” he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. “How do you know my name?”
He grinned disarmingly. “Didn’t I hear Mrs. Green call you by it just now? Anyway, the whole village has heard about the charming niece of Miss Woodrow of Puck’s Hill who has come to stay.”
Her lips curved in amusement. “Flattery goes right over my head, Mr.—”
“Kendal’s the name. Miles Kendal—but please don’t call me Mister.”
He was very likeable, she decided. “In that case, my name is Vanessa,” she told him. “But we’re not likely to meet very often. I’m helping Miss Gould look after my aunt. When she’s—better, I shall be going home.”
“That would be a pity when we’ve just met—your going home, I mean,” he added hastily.
Vanessa smiled and said she must return to Puck’s Hill, but Miles Kendal said persuasively:
“Look, why not come into the Swan and have a sherry with me or something? I can’t say have a coffee because, as you know, we don’t have a restaurant in the village. I met your aunt once and thought she was a wonderful woman.”
At this, Vanessa found her resistance weakening. “You’ve met my aunt? How?” she queried.
He took her arm. “Come and have a drink and I’ll tell you. I know you must want to get back, but if you let me drive you, you’ll be there quicker than if you hadn’t met me and had to walk.”
Vanessa laughed. “All right, you win.”
The Swan was a homely sort of place with its oak beams, low ceilings and interesting examples of copper ware. They sat in the little parlor, whose floors and furniture gleamed with years of polish.
“How is your aunt, really?” Miles Kendal asked gravely when they were seated and served. “Do you honestly think she will get better? They say she’s getting on for 100.”
Vanessa shook her head sadly. “Everyone’s life has to come to an end some time, I suppose. But I’d rather not talk about it.”
He smiled. “I understand. I think it’s wonderful that l you’ve come all this way to look after her. She must mean a lot to you—and you to her, I imagine.”
“We are fairly close, I suppose.” She told him how she used to spend her holidays with Aunt Maud, and the sort of games they used to invent. Miles Kendal listened with close interest.
“You’re not her only niece, are you?” he asked.
“Oh no, but my father is her only nephew.”
“Her next of kin, in other words.”
Vanessa frowned, hating the expression now that her aunt was nearing the end of her life span.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, an edge to her voice.
“I’m sorry.” he said swiftly. “It’s just that—I felt I wanted to warn you, as it were.”
“Warn me?” she echoed.
He smiled faintly. “I didn’t mean to sound dramatic. I realize you don’t want to dwell on things, but your aunt has a sizeable bit of property there. Some people, with no sense of rightness or delicacy of feeling are already hovering around her like—well, vultures, wanting to buy the place.”
Something inside Vanessa contracted sharply. “Who do you mean exactly?”
He shrugged, as if unwilling to mention anyone’s name. Then he said, “Well. I expect you’ll meet him sooner or later, if you haven’t already. I mean Ian Hamilton. He’s already made your aunt an offer.”
Vanessa drew a swift breath. “So that’s it!”
Miles Kendal nodded. “That’s it. I take it you and he have met?”
“We certainly have. But Aunt Maud will never sell. I’m sure of it.”
“Maybe he’s hoping she’ll change her mind.”
“Then he doesn’t know my aunt. She’ll never change her mind, and—” She broke off, unwilling to repeat her aunt’s injunction never to sell. “But as a matter of interest, why does he want to buy such a big place? Has he a family?”
“If you mean has he any family of his own, he isn’t even married. He and his sister live together in that place called The Lodge. But I expect you know that.”
Vanessa shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“No? Well, of course, his place is more or less a playground. Or should I say a sportsground. You must have heard of the Colonel.”
“I have—to some extent.”
The news that Ian Hamilton was now the owner of those acres of private woodland in which defenseless birds were hunted, made her dislike him more than ever.
“His little hunter’s paradise adjoins you aunt’s place, as you may know,” Miles Kendal went on. “The man is just land-hungry. And what he’d do with Puck’s Hill if he acquired it, heaven knows. Pull it down, I expect.”
“Not if I can help it,” muttered Vanessa determinedly. She rose to her feet. “If you don’t mind, I really must be going.”
“Don’t look now,” Miles said as they left the Swan and went to his car, “but there’s Hamilton and his sister now in that expensive-looking car across the road.”
“I don’t want to look,” she said angrily. “And I wish to goodness he’d keep away from Puck’s Hill.” How the man had managed to win her aunt’s confidence, she didn’t know, but she vowed he would never win hers.
She would have pretended not to see them, but to her surprise Miles Kendal gave them a wave, a smile and called out, “Hi, Ian!”
Vanessa was almost forced to look their way. After all, Freda had been kind enough to meet her at the station. And so she gave a slight wave, being careful to look at Freda only. She could not help noticing, however, that there was no answering wave for Miles from Ian. He looked decidedly put out. Miles chuckled as if something were amusing him and put his hand under Vanessa’s elbow to help her into his car.
“Do you know Ian Hamilton very well?” she asked.
Miles shrugged. “Well, you know how it is. One has to keep on something like friendly terms with people, even if one doesn’t agree with what they do or how they live.” Vanessa did not agree with him. “I shall never make any pretense of liking him.”
Miles started the car and cast an amused smile at her. “As bad as that?”
“Why should one pretend? I think I disliked him before I even met him. I know that sounds terrible, but it was the way his sister kept talking about him: as if his word was law. Then he came to see my aunt and let me think that he was the doctor, and—oh. I don’t know—”
“I do. You find him generally irritating. He affects me that way too, so you’re not alone. I think it’s that superior manner of his. But I’m surprised you don’t like him—in a way—because most of the women hereabouts, including his sister, are absolutely mad about him.”
“Really? Perhaps that’s what’s wrong with him. He expects every woman to come running. If they don’t, it doesn’t please him. It’s made him conceited.”
“I’m glad you’re not taken in by him, anyway,” answered Miles, turning into the driveway of Puck’s Hill.
Characteristically, Vanessa began to feel guilty about her attitude toward Ian Hamilton. She shouldn’t have spoken like that about him to someone else, even though she did dislike him. After all, there must be something likeable for Aunt Maud to have such a high regard for him.
Miles Kendal was eyeing the fantastic weed growth flanking
the drive.
“Heavens! I wouldn’t like to be the person who takes on this little lot. Couldn’t you persuade your aunt to do something about it?”
“She won’t have chemical weed-killers used,” Vanessa answered. “And in any case, I wouldn’t dream of bothering her about it while she’s ill.”
“No, of course not,” he murmured, in a conciliatory tone. He halted the car outside the front door and opened the door of the passenger side for her. When she thanked him, he said, “It would be nice to see you again. May I?”
She hesitated. “I’d like to, of course, but I’m afraid I can’t make any arrangements while Aunt Maud is so ill. I might see you in the village some time when I’m shopping, but in any case I’m not here permanently, so—”
He put his hand into an inside pocket. “Tell you what. Let’s say same time and place next week. If you can’t make it, don’t worry—maybe you will the week after. If there’s ever anything I can do any time, here’s my address.” He gave her a card.
She glanced at it briefly, then thanked him and said goodbye.
But exactly one week later, Aunt Maud passed peacefully away in her sleep. Vanessa telephoned the doctor from the booth a short distance from the house. With him, within five minutes, came Ian Hamilton. Vanessa was too shaken with grief to resent him. In the days preceding the funeral, she was grateful to him for the way he took charge of everything, and to his sister for all her help. After the interment, she turned to thank them both, Ian in particular, feeling rather ashamed of her original opinion.
To My Dear Niece Page 2