by Sue Peters
'I'll do a batch of baking,' Nan made her plans. 'We picked a lovely lot of blackberries, and bramble pie and a few cakes will keep you going for a while, and I'll see what groceries you need while I'm there.'
'I picked the berries,' Timmy boasted proudly.
'But you're not going to pick the apples—one casualty today is quite enough in that direction!' With a sly wink at his two patients, Keir tucked the boy upside down beneath one arm, and bore him laughing out to the Land-Rover.
'It's better than upsetting him,' the vet approved his action.
'I'll get us started, he won't have time to think about leaving you, then.' Nan hurried after Keir and started the Land-Rover engine. 'Think how many pies your mother is likely to want, and tie a knot in your hanky so that we don't forget the house key this afternoon,' she gave him two things to think about at once. ‑;
'You promised me a pie as well, for helping you pick the berries.' Keir helped her out, and wrangling amicably about the number of pies each wanted, they soon left the hospital behind.
'Do you have to do that baking this afternoon?' Keir caught at Nan's arm as they decanted in front of Minster House, and the boy ran off in front of them up the steps.
'No, it's no good doing it until the day before Helen comes home.' Nan looked at him in surprise. 'It'll be stale if I do it too soon. You'll have to tell me when you intend to send her out,' she pointed out.
'Say Wednesday of next week. That'll give you two days after the weekend for your preparations.' He was unexpectedly thoughtful.
'That's plenty of time,' Nan said thankfully. 'Rose can have a good turnout at the cottage, and get everything ready for next week.'
'That means you won't be wanted at the cottage this afternoon?'
'Only to take Rose and Timmy there. And to pick the sunflowers, of course,' she added, puzzled. 'Why?' She could not think of any reason why he might need her services, except . . . 'Do you want the Land-Rover for anything?' Perhaps he wanted it to take Marcia out? She bit her lip and carefully remained silent on that point, leaving him to make his own explanation.
'I thought we could drop Rose and Timmy at the Cottage, and go on into Hopminster to have a look at some cars,' he suggested. 'We each want one—no, need one,' he amended. 'The Land-Rover's fine, but if we both need it at the same time—I felt a bit guilty, taking it yesterday,' he confessed, and Nan's lips tightened. He could not have felt all that guilty, or he would not have kept the vehicle for longer than was necessary, in order to take Marcia joy-riding. She wished he would not perpetuate the lie he told her uncle the evening before, her own knowledge of where he had really gone was embarrassing. Or perhaps he wanted his own car because the Land-Rover was not good enough for Marcia. A large, sleek saloon was more in her line—the sort of car Keir had said he wanted for himself. Maybe that was why he had suddenly decided to do something about obtaining one, he had not seemed in any particular hurry before. He had mentioned the car he wanted. 'A Twin Jet, or something, wasn't it?'
'That's right.' She hardly realised she had spoken out loud until he turned a pleased look in her direction. 'Fancy you remembering!'
'You remembered I wanted a Mini,' Nan countered. She did not quite know how to respond to Keir's newly friendly mood; it was almost easier when they were antagonistic towards one another, she thought contrarily, at least that did not hurt so much. Anger was a sort of armour ...
'Of course I remembered, you wanted a nice sagey green colour,' he offered further proof of his interest. 'What about us going this afternoon?' he coaxed, his hand on her arm detaining, her as she turned in the direction of the kitchen. 'We could have a look round for our cars, and then stay out for dinner. There's bound to be somewhere in Hopminster where we could eat.'
'The George and Dragon is good,' Nan spoke automatically, and then tried hastily to retract. 'But what about Rose? If we stay out she'll be stranded at the Marriotts' cottage. We can't let her walk back, it's over two miles,' she took the only escape route that presented itself.
'Did you want the Land-Rover?' Oliver Gray heard her remark as he came in to seek his lunch. 'Mary and I won't need it, we've got the car.'
'We did, but it'll mean stranding Rose and Timmy.' Before Nan could answer, Keir explained his plan, and she felt a quick flare of annoyance. Keir acted as if she had already said she would go with him, and she had done nothing of the sort. He seemed to take her acceptance very much for granted.
'I'll collect Rose and Timmy for you on my way back from the hospital this evening,' the older doctor offered. 'It'll be about five o'clock. Will that be early enough for you, Rose?' as she appeared through the kitchen door. 'Nan and Doctor Raven want to stay in Hopminster for dinner tonight,' he explained.
'Any time around five will do,' Rose agreed cheerfully. 'You go out and enjoy your evening, miss, it'll be a good chance, you'll be tied for a bit with me going to the vet's next week, and all,' The sounds of a ,saucepan in distress wafted through the kitchen door, and she bustled off.
'That's settled, then,' Keir said in a satisfied tone. 'I noticed there's an agent on the way into Hopminster,' he announced conversationally at lunch. 'Were you intending to buy a new car, or had you thought of looking for a good second-hand one?'
'I thought a new one.' She did not want to go with him at all. At least, one part of her wanted to go, the other, sensible part told her it was better if she stayed away from his company. She grasped at the conversation to try and stem the war that seemed to be going on inside her. 'I thought a new car would save on repair bills in the long run—I'm not mechanically minded,' she admitted, 'and I wouldn't know if a second-hand car was a good buy or not.'
'If you wanted a second-hand car I'd look it over for you,' Keir offered, 'but I think you're wiser to buy new, it pays in the long run.'
It sounded as if he intended to buy a new Twin Jet. Nail closed her mind to the thought of what it would cost him. She knew roughly what the price of her own car would be. Multiply that by umpteen—she gave up and concentrated on her meal.
'Will you be able to see your car at the same place?' His vehicle was the more important of the two really, and not just because of Marcia. Nan did not want to be selfish with his spare time. He might feel obliged to help her only because he had offered to before he knew the girl from the Manor.
'No, we'll have to go to another agent on the other side of town,' Keir responded casually, as if the inconvenience did not bother him. 'It's a different make of car, so they put their franchise with a different dealer,' he explained.
'What a lovely show!' Nan gave a gasp of pleasure as she saw the shining display behind the plate glass windows, as he drew up at the agent shortly after they had dropped Rose and Timmy.
'You're spoiled for choice,' Keir agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. 'It looks as if they're making a special display of the model you want—we couldn't have come at a better time.' The tiny cars, with their bright jewel colours, were temptingly attractive, and Nan's heart lifted despite her earlier depression.
'Let's go in, I'm longing to try one!' She clutched at his hand in her excitement, and felt the firm grasp of his fingers in response. So despite his cool exterior, Keir was capable of feeling excited, too. They hurried through the door hand in hand, laughing like two light-hearted children, and the brisk young salesman greeted them eagerly. His bonus for that month should be higher than usual. His knowledgeable glance sized up Keir's well-to-do appearance, that was enhanced by Nan's own neatly tailored matching coat and dress.
'It's for your wife, I take it, sir?' He bowed them towards his desk. 'Perhaps you'd like a look at some catalogues first, to get an idea of the options available?'
'Oh, you look at the catalogues. Let me have a browse among the cars first,' Nan begged eagerly, uncaring that the two men smiled at one another in a superior fashion.
'Ladies are generally attracted by the colours,' the man nodded indulgently. 'Just go ahead, Mrs—er—?'
'Oh, we're not married,' she
corrected his mistake, and found even that admission could not entirely dampen her light-hearted mood now she had seen the cars. It was something she would have to get used to, she told herself, so she might as well start not caring now.
'In that case, perhaps it's a—er—celebration gift?' The salesman hazarded a guess, with a significant glance towards her left hand. 'This gentleman can attend to the mundane things like horsepower and price and so on, while you enjoy looking at the colours.' His manner began to irritate Nan as the gist of what he suggested penetrated her car-dazzled mind.
'I'm buying my own car, and I'll attend to the mundane matters you mention myself,' she said tartly, and then compunction hit her at his crestfallen look. 'Just the same, I want to enjoy your lovely display first,' she pinned the smile back on his face.
'I think I like the green one best.' She tipped her head on one side and viewed the cars speculatively. 'Or the gold—or perhaps the orange. Oh, you choose for me!' She turned in despair to Keir.
'Toss up for it,' he told her amusedly. 'No, have the green one. Your eyes are hazel, it'll match better,' he teased, and to her annoyance she felt her colour mount under the interested stare of the salesman.
'How soon?' In self-defence she shot a question to distract him.
'Delivery won't be for a week or two,' he glanced at her disappointed face. 'You'll want us to tax it for you,' he pointed out reasonably, 'and then there's your insurance and so on to attend to.'
'Let's get the order made out first,' Keir laughed, 'And I think we'll take one of the catalogues and a colour chart home with us. At least then you'll have something concrete to browse over,' he took pity on her wistful backwards glance as they returned to the Land-Rover.
'Don't you want to browse first, as well?' Instinctively Nan lowered her voice in the next showroom. There were only two Twin Jets there. Their long, sleek bodies were low-slung, and had a look of controlled power about them that convinced Nan they would go into orbit if their drivers happened to request it.
'I'll come and have a look at the models in a minute,' Keir interrupted his discussion with the showroom assistant, 'you go on and have a look, we'll join you.' He resumed his talk on technical matters that sounded like a foreign language to Nan, and she wandered off, their voices following her. 'She'll reach sixty in seconds from a standing start, sir.' The man Keir was with now was not only a salesman, he was a devotee. According to the snatches of conversation that came her way, Nan gathered that Keir had found a soulmate, and that contrary to all the laws of the universe the car they were discussing had no demerits. She could not find any herself, walking slowly round the gleaming monsters, trying not to let her heels tap on the highly polished floor; it seemed criminal to make a noise in the hushed atmosphere that surrounded these two cars.
'I'm not particularly fussy as to colour. Steel grey, I think,' Keir was saying as she completed her circuit of the models and rejoined the men.
'Aren't you even going to have a look at the colour charts?' she asked him indignantly.
'I'm more interested in the engine. You have a look at the colours for me.' He thrust a glossy brochure into her hand, that was more like an art work than a catalogue, she decided. It reflected the quality of the car it portrayed—and probably its price as well, she thought ruefully, and felt glad that was not her problem.
'You might as well be comfortable while we're delving into the engine.' Keir opened the door of the first car, and after a rather doubtful look at the showroom assistant, who nodded smiling permission, Nan climbed in and Keir closed the door on her. It shut with a discreet 'plop', virtually noiseless beside the cheerful 'clunk' of the little Mini she had tried. She sat back and looked about her. The upholstery was of best quality hide, the fascia panels and sill linings of fine wood with a beautiful grain. It was hand-engineered, by craftsmen. On a long journey it would not notice the miles, and in that sort of comfort neither would its occupants. It was a perfect piece of engineering. A man's car, built for someone who loved fine machinery—and who could afford to pay for it.
'It seems too good to use just around Minster.' The George and Dragon produced an excellent steak, and their head waiter a candlelit table for two, and the combined effect was mellowing, Nan discovered. For the moment she felt perfectly at ease with Keir. I'm enjoying myself, she realised suddenly. It must be because we've got the cars to talk about, she decided. They provided a neutral ground which they could explore together without danger.
'I don't intend to use it just around Minster.' He leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. As if he, too, were enjoying himself. 'There'll be holidays.' His eyes grew dreamy. 'I'd like to try it out on a trip to Scotland before I attempt to take it abroad. The Isle of Arran in the springtime,' he mused, 'it's a paradise for wild flowers.' He smiled across at her. 'We could leave the car, and take the steamer over.'
We? Nan looked back at him, silently. Keir and Marcia? He had made it sound as if he was planning a honeymoon trip. She felt glad of the shadows cast by the guttering illumination, thankful that they hid her expression, which she guessed must show in her eyes from the force of the pain in her heart.
'The Land-Rover is ideal for calls around the district, but farther afield it's nice to have something a bit more comfortable,' he added contentedly.
'I can guarantee the seating,' Nan replied drily. 'But you're right about local calls, particularly in the winter; it would be a sin to take a car like that up the farm tracks.' Keir had not yet experienced the muddy ruts that passed as drives to some of the holdings, and she wondered if, when, he did, he might regret his decision to come to Minster. Only time would tell.
'Don't you miss your practice in the town?' she asked, suddenly curious.
'How do you mean?' he returned lazily, almost indifferently, she thought; surprised, for she had instantly regretted her question, fearing what his reaction might be.
'Oh, I don't know.' She gestured vaguely. 'Take the patients at the hospital this morning, for example. You had a scythe cut, a fall from an apple tree and burns from a stubble fire. Our troubles tend to be of the homespun variety, putting it mildly,' she explained.
'They're none the worse for that,' Keir said quietly. 'And what about the accident with the sports car?' he reminded her. 'I've never seen finer surgery.' His eyes glowed at the memory. 'Your uncle performed miracles on the driver of that sports car,' he told her, 'but for Oliver that boy would have been crippled for life.'
'That apart, the general run of things is still in the homely class,' Nan argued, and Keir looked at her strangely.
'I'd rather treat a man cut by a scythe he was using to do an honest day's work than stitch up the wounds made by a flick knife, or a broken bottle used in a back street brawl,' he pointed out quietly. 'It isn't all glamour in a city practice, you know.'
'I do,' Nan assured him, 'we get quite a variety at Bartholomews. But it's different here,' she persisted. 'In London, you could have done anything—had anybody as your patients.' She was becoming inarticulate under his steady gaze, and wished uncomfortably that he would not watch her so intently.
'The rich and the famous?' His voice was equally dry. 'And become rich and famous myself, in the process?'
'Something like that.' He could have reached the zenith of his profession, but he had chosen to come to Minster instead. Had he sought the contrast of the country practice on the rebound, after Edwina's death? And if so, how long would it be before he began to hanker after the more sophisticated life he was accustomed to? It would be a cruel blow to Oliver Gray if the partner he had hoped to obtain to reduce his own workload, and eventually take over the practice, was to leave him just as he became useful. The possibility troubled her more than she cared to admit.
'To start with, I don't need money.' He spoke evenly, without any trace of resentment at her question she realised with relief. 'And besides, I wanted time.'
Time for what? she wondered. To get over losing Edwina?
'Time for research.' He
answered her unspoken question. 'But most of all, time to live.'
'You said you wanted to leave the city, but I thought that was after—after ...' She stopped awkwardly, reluctant to upset him, and equally reluctant to destroy the cosy, friendly atmosphere of the dinner table, and the sense of ease between herself and Keir that had been absent.
'After Edwina died?' Again his response was quiet, without any sign of strain. 'No, I wanted to leave the city long before then. If you remember, you told me you can't forget your roots,' he reminded her. His firm lips tilted upwards in a slight smile. 'I discovered you couldn't outlive them, either. The tinsel soon began to tarnish.' His voice became suddenly bitter, and Nan wondered what memories stirred behind the black eyes that no longer seemed to look at her, but through her, at people and places she could not visualise. A stirring of something like jealousy shook her, that there was so much of Keir she could not share. Nothing except the brief hours they had spent together since he had come to Minster House, and . those had not always been happy ones.
'Perhaps if you'd had children?' She did not know how to break the silence, and draw him back again to her from the faraway place where his spirit seemed to have flown, leaving her solitary even though she was sat with him.
'Even then, Edwina wouldn't have wanted to live in the country.' Keir's voice was philosophical, accepting what had been, and could not be changed. 'She might eventually have sent our child there as it got older, I suspect she probably would have done,' again the note of bitterness was evident, and Nan looked across at him, surprised.
'I didn't know you had a child?'
'We didn't.' There was infinite sadness on his face. 'Our child was never born. It died with its mother in the wreckage of my car.' His fingers closed tightly round the stem of his wine glass, so that the knuckles gleamed white in the soft candlelight, and Nan feared for the safety of the fragile glass.
'Don't crush it, Keir, you'll cut yourself.' Impulsively she reached across the table and touched the taut fingers, ignoring the pain to herself that the brief contact brought. For a second he looked back at her, bemusedly, as if he was not quite sure who she was, his mind still in the unhappy hinterland she could not share, and then, as the pressure of her touch increased insistently, he shook his head as if to clear the clouds from his mind.