by Betty Neels
‘No bones broken,’ he pronounced. ‘A bruised leg, but it should heal.’ He put the little creature in Amelia’s arms. ‘Hold it close for a few moments, it needs to warm up and recover from the shock.’ He glanced at her face. ‘And don’t look like that, my dear.’ He bent and kissed her gently on a cheek, a comforting kiss. ‘There’s one little beast that will live to see another day.’
Amelia held the furry little body close. ‘Yes, I know, I’m silly and I ought to be used to this sort of thing by now, but I never shall be.’ She looked up at Gideon. ‘Will it be all right if I let it go now?’
‘Let’s see.’ She set the rabbit down and it stayed motionless for a long moment and then whisked itself into the hedge.
‘I had pet rabbits when I was a small boy,’ observed Gideon, taking her arm in an abstracted manner. ‘They lived in one of the barns near the house. I had dormice too and a tame crow as well as the kitchen cat and her kittens. Heaven knows how I ever found time to go to school! Now I have to be content with a dog and cats.’ He paused to lean over a hedge, and since he was still holding her arm, Amelia perforce paused too. ‘I hope my children will have the fun I did.’
She said in a startled voice: ‘Oh, are you going to get married?’
‘The idea had crossed my mind. How far does your father’s property extend?’
Such a pointed change in the conversation couldn’t be ignored. ‘That line of trees at the other side of this field—that’s one boundary and the land’s his as far as the crossroads we’re coming to. The village is part of the estate, but at the back of the house there’s only the garden as far as the river. It’s small compared to your home.’
They started back again, and now Amelia had forgotten about the sick headache. A day with Gideon would be pleasant; he was a restful companion when he wanted to be and amusing too. Perhaps after breakfast they could walk to the village and she could show him the ruined monastery and the row of cottages which were so picturesque that people came from miles around just to look at them. She ate a good breakfast in anticipation of the morning ahead of her, and then had her hopes dashed by her father’s cheerful statement that he was taking Gideon into Cirencester to meet a friend of his, an authority on fly fishing. They would, he told her, have a most enjoyable morning and she would see them for lunch. ‘There must be a great deal you want to do, my dear,’ finished her parent vaguely.
She agreed very quickly and didn’t look at Gideon. And when they had gone she mooned around, getting in Bonny’s way until Badger coaxed her into the sitting room with a tray of coffee. Drinking it, she had ample opportunity to reflect that Gideon had shown no sign of disappointment at being deprived of her society; of course he imagined that she was still pining for Tom.
The men came back rather late and lunch was largely taken up with the fascinations of fly fishing, and although both of them were meticulous in including her in their conversation, Amelia had the strong feeling that she wasn’t really necessary to their pleasure. They had their coffee at the table and she excused herself almost at once. She had promised to go to the vicarage to see Angela, the daughter of the house there, and would probably stay to tea. She was half way to the door when her father remembered that he had asked a few friends in for drinks that evening. ‘A dozen or so, my dear, there’s not much amusement for Gideon here and I thought a few new faces...’
She expressed delight at the idea and seethed inwardly. It would mean that dinner would be late for a start and her parent had a habit of asking people to take pot luck. Her two aunts had been out visiting and weren’t expected back until the late afternoon, which meant that probably there would be bridge that evening; she could think of at least three old friends of her father who would be delighted to stay on for a meal and a game. And as if that weren’t enough, Mr Crosbie went on: ‘The Thursbys are coming over this evening and they’ll bring Letty with them. We’ll have one or two people in to lunch tomorrow, you’d better ask Angela, that’ll make us eight.’ He chuckled richly: ‘Gideon can take his pick—you’re both pretty girls.’
The kind of remark a father would make, thought Amelia, flouncing upstairs to fetch her coat and scarf. She presumably had a squint and a face to go with it! She went out of the side door, pulling on her gloves as she went briskly through the yard and out of the back gate. It was a long way round to the village, but since Angela had no idea that she was spending the afternoon with her, she couldn’t get there too early. In fact, she called in on one or two of the more elderly inhabitants of the little community. Most of them had at some time worked for her father and she had known them all since she was a child. It was almost three o’clock by the time she turned in at the vicarage gates.
Angela was a little younger than she was, a small, slim creature with a sweet nature and easily bullied. Amelia had fought her battles for her as a child and they were firm friends. She saw Amelia from a window and came to meet her. ‘I was going to ring you this morning, but I thought you’d be taken up with that Dutch doctor the whole village is talking about. I saw him this morning as your father and he drove past; he’s pretty super. Is he keen on you, Amelia?’
Amelia was taking off her outdoor things and adding them to the comfortable pile of miscellaneous garments strewn on the wide bench in the hall.
‘No,’ she made her voice bright and casual, ‘he’s come to see Father—they share a love of fishing, you know. He’s very pleasant and all that—gave me a lift down and I expect he’ll drive me back, but he’s only being civil.’
‘But you stayed with him on your way back from Norway—your father was telling Father.’
They had wandered into the large, shabby living room. ‘Only because Father wanted to go,’ explained Amelia.
Angela looked disappointed. ‘Oh, I’ve been thinking how nice for you if...I mean, now that Tom’s gone...’
Amelia conjured up a smile. ‘Nothing like that, Angela—he doesn’t even like me particularly.’ For good measure she added, ‘We don’t hit it off.’
They had sat down on the hearthrug already crowded by two elderly dogs and a nondescript cat. ‘You’re coming up for drinks this evening, aren’t you? Good—and Father says will you come to lunch tomorrow—no one much, the aunts and us and three of Father’s friends and you.’
‘I’d love to, though I can never think of anything to say. Will Letty be there this evening? I can’t think of anything to say to her either.’
‘Who can? Her head’s empty, I don’t suppose she thinks of anything other than make-up and the latest hair-styles.’ Amelia sounded waspish and didn’t care. Letty had always annoyed her and now she was to be let loose on Gideon who would probably succumb to her tinkling laugh and exquisitely turned out person. If he was going to fall for anyone, she would rather it were Angela. No, that wasn’t true, she would rather it were herself.
But there was little hope of that; his indifference was obvious even though he masked it with good manners. Amelia began to toy with the idea of a sick headache again, or even an urgent call from the hospital that she was wanted back immediately...
‘You’ve not been the same since Tom went,’ declared Angela. ‘Do you feel very awful about it, Amelia?’
Amelia hesitated. She liked Angie very much, she was a dear girl and a kind one too, but she answered questions far too readily...there was always the chance that Gideon would get her into a corner and ever so casually winkle out anything he had a mind to know. ‘Well, it was a terrific surprise, it took a bit of getting over. Thank heaven for work!’
Angela gave her a sympathetic glance. ‘Poor old you! Have you heard from him?’
‘No, it wouldn’t be a good idea, would it? What are you going to wear this evening? I’ve got a quite nice dress I wore to Aunt Delia’s party in London, but I’m wondering if it might not be a bit too grand—I’ll keep it, I think, and wear that old pink thing I had last ye
ar. I left it at home and I haven’t worn it in ages.’
‘You always look lovely whatever you wear,’ declared Angela without envy. ‘Mother gave me a dress for Christmas—ever such a plain bodice and a pleated skirt—it’s blue.’
‘It sounds just the thing. What have you been doing with yourself—Father hinted that you’d captured Reggie Wray’s eye. Have you?’
Angela blushed. ‘Well, I don’t know—we get on awfully well, but I’m sure I won’t stand a chance if Letty comes swanning along.’
‘Leave Letty to me,’ said Amelia. ‘Let’s roast some chestnuts—I’m hungry!’
The old pink thing didn’t look so bad when she had it on. It was no longer the height of fashion, of course, but it was pretty in an understated way and the colour suited her. She did her hair in an elaborate chignon and stuck a velvet bow in it and found a pair of bronze sandals she hadn’t worn for ages. There would be so many people there that what one wore below the waist wouldn’t be seen anyway. She went downstairs as soon as she was ready to see if Bonny wanted a hand, but the housekeeper assured her that everything was just as it should be, adding a rider to the effect that if Miss Amelia was going to sample everything there wouldn’t be enough for anyone else. Amelia gave her a hug, told Badger that he looked splendid in his new jacket and made her way to the drawing room.
Her father was already there and so was Gideon, looking elegant in his dark suit and handsome too. It would be a tiresome evening, she decided, having to watch Letty at work charming him, as undoubtedly she would.
Amelia said hullo, thanked her father prettily when he complimented her upon her appearance and then busied herself making conversation with her two aunts who had just joined them. They were all having a drink when the first guests arrived and she had had no chance to say a word to Gideon. Nor did she for the greater part of the next two hours, only when Letty and her parents arrived. She happened to be standing with Angela and Gideon as they entered the room and he, glancing over their heads, said softly: ‘Now, there is a very pretty girl.’ He added, half laughing, ‘Present company excepted, of course.’
Letty looked exquisite, the old pink thing became just that when compared with her slinky black crêpe and sequins. Amelia ground her splendid teeth, smiled delightfully and hurried him over to be introduced. As she rejoined Angela she said crossly: ‘Well, that’s the last we’ll see of him until she goes. I only hope Father doesn’t take it into his head to ask them to stay on for dinner.’
She circulated conscientiously after that and was relieved to see Letty and her parents make their way to the door as the other guests began to say goodbye. Letty broke away for a moment and came dancing towards her.
‘Amelia, what a lovely party! I’ve had a super time. That lovely man—where did you find him? Not that you want him, do you, darling? I daresay you’re still brokenhearted over Tom going off like that and leaving you.’ Her eyes widened suddenly and she looked over Amelia’s shoulder. ‘Oh, there you are, Gideon—I was just telling Amelia that it doesn’t matter what old rag she wears, she always looks gorgeous.’
Amelia choked on a torrent of rude words. ‘That’s a nice compliment, Letty,’ she declared sweetly, ‘I must remember to wear my old rags more often.’ She smiled widely. ‘Your mother’s beckoning—you mustn’t keep her waiting.’
Letty gave a little laugh and then changed it into an enchanting gurgle for Gideon’s benefit. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t like to have dinner with us?’ she suggested, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
Perhaps eyelashes didn’t interest him, thought Amelia, watching, for he looked completely disinterested. ‘Charming of you,’ he said formally, ‘but I’m dining here.’
Letty lifted a lovely shoulder. ‘Oh, well, another time.’ She shook hands lingeringly, nodded at Amelia and swam back across the room. When she had gone Amelia turned away. ‘You’ll excuse me for a moment, won’t you?’ she asked Gideon. ‘There’s something I must ask Bonny...’
She need not have bothered. He put out a large hand and anchored her gently beside him. ‘I like your friend Angela,’ he told her. ‘There aren’t enough girls like her around, but I must beg of you not to leave me with Letty for more than a couple of minutes if ever we should encounter each other again.’ He looked down at her, smiling slowly. ‘That was a mean trick, Amelia.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She flicked some imaginary crumbs off her dress and didn’t look at him.
‘Oh, yes, you do. Leaving me at Letty’s mercy...’
‘You said she was a pretty girl.’
‘A very pretty girl,’ he corrected her silkily. ‘Ah, here’s your father.’
Mr Crosbie joined them, very pleased with himself. Pronouncing the evening a success, he said that he had decided against asking anyone to stay on to dine and play bridge and suggested that they went at once to the dining room.
‘But, Father, you planned two tables,’ declared Amelia, secretly very relieved, for her bridge was beyond description, ‘but you can still play—you know I’m not any good at it, and that leaves the four of you.’
Her father looked cunning. ‘Ah, yes, my dear, but we’re going to have a little chat after dinner.’
‘All of us?’
‘All of us.’
During the meal Amelia speculated as to what the little chat was going to be about. Her father was his usual jovial self, but she detected a trace of unease in his manner and Gideon, unless she was very much mistaken, was secretly amused about something. And as for her aunts, they were unable to conceal a faint, pleased excitement showing through their normal dignified manner.
She was a little surprised when her father told Badger to bring the coffee to the dining room, and when he had done so and trotted off again, she was still further surprised to find the others looking at her intently.
Her father spoke, wasting neither time nor words. ‘We think you need a little change, Amelia. You’ve gone through a good deal just lately...’ He coughed and looked uncomfortable. ‘Gideon has most kindly brought an invitation with him that you should spend a couple of days at the New Year at his home—there’s to be a family party and a few old friends; a splendid opportunity for you to meet new faces.’
Amelia looked bewildered, aware all the same of great excitement. ‘But I’ve only got two days off...’
‘Two days from the previous week will make four days,’ pointed out Gideon matter-of-factly. ‘It takes no longer for you to fly over than to drive down here. I believe you will enjoy it.’
Her two aunts nodded. It was obvious that they had been well rehearsed as a chorus. ‘New friends, my dear, just what you need, and Gideon’s mother there to look after you.’
Amelia blinked and wondered what tale Gideon had been telling the old ladies. She said with dignity: ‘I’ve only just had a holiday, thank you very much just the same.’
Gideon contrived to sound authoritative, rather like the family doctor. ‘Ah, yes, Amelia, but its good effects have been largely nullified by your—er—recent change of plans.’
She eyed him balefully. ‘You make me sound like something from a Victorian novel!’ she snapped.
He smiled lazily. ‘Impossible, my dear; Victorian heroines were fair and small and drooping and very, very slender.’ He added in a fair-minded manner: ‘I have never called you any of those things.’
‘Oh, pooh!’ It was surprising to her that although she loved him so, he could annoy her to the point of throwing something at him; only her strict upbringing prevented her from doing so now. She had quite forgotten the three elderlies sitting watching them and was on the point of voicing her rage when her father said mildly: ‘Now, now, Amelia, let’s get back to the point. We all think a little holiday will do you good and we do all want to help you, my dear. Gideon has been most kind.’
She remembered their walk that morn
ing then; he had indeed been kind, his gentle hands on the little frightened rabbit proved that, although looking at him now, that nasty little smile touching his firm mouth convinced her that the kindness he was showing now had no tenderness with it, a professional kindness rather, offering practical help because he saw it was needed.
She said wearily, ‘Very well. I’ll be delighted to accept your invitation, thank you very much.’
The words sounded empty to her ears and they must have sounded empty to Gideon’s too, for the smile disappeared, leaving him looking a little stern.
‘Perhaps you could fly over on Old Year’s morning? Someone will meet you at Schiphol. You wouldn’t need to go back until the evening of the fourth day, would you? That would give you four days. The house will be full and there will be plenty for you to do, and as your father says, a number of new faces.’
‘You’re very kind. It sounds fun.’ Her voice held no conviction at all and the little smile reappeared.
‘We’ll try to make it so.’
She kept out of Gideon’s way the next morning. It wasn’t until lunch time that they spoke more than a few words together and that merely concerned their return that evening to London. Lunch was a cheerful meal with a conversation which never flagged, and after the meal when they had had their coffee, dispensed by one of the aunts, Amelia offered to take one of her father’s friends down to the stables to look at Trooper, the elderly horse which still worked around the grounds, while Angela remained contentedly enough with Gideon, for once losing her shyness and talking non-stop. Amelia thought their heads were very close together as she went out of the room, old Mr Bambridge in tow.
They left after an early dinner with Amelia making light conversation to which Gideon gave polite answer. It was only as they neared London that he observed: ‘You aren’t very keen on coming on a visit, are you, Amelia? But I think you may feel differently by the time you return home.’