An Ideal Wife

by Betty Neels

  * * *

  The accident was a bad one. The doctor left his car in the care of the police and went with one of the injured men in the ambulance to Salisbury. He had a fractured spine, and any undue movement or jolting would cause his death. Thomas stayed at Odstock Hospital until the man had been taken to Theatre, and by then it was almost midnight. He got a porter to ring for a car and was driven back to where his own car was still parked by the side of the road. The police were still there, supervising the towing away of the wrecked cars, and he wished them goodnight and drove home again.

  His house was in darkness save for a lamp in the hall, but Rosie was there waiting.

  ‘There’s soup ready, and you’d better have a drink...’

  ‘I can’t, Rosie, I’m on call, but the soup will be very welcome. You shouldn’t have stayed up.’

  ‘Well, someone has to look after you. Once you’re married, your wife can do that.’ She followed him into the kitchen and poured the soup into a pitkin. ‘Miss Thornfold went home,’ she told him in an expressionless voice.

  The doctor stooped to pat Bellow and tickle Lucky’s tiny chin. ‘Well, yes, I didn’t expect her to stay.’

  Rosie gave a snorting ‘huh’. ‘I’m back to my bed, sir,’ she said ‘unless there’s anything you want.’

  ‘No, thanks, Rosie. It was good of you to stay up, and this soup is delicious.’ He went to open the door for her. ‘Goodnight.’

  * * *

  He was at the consulting rooms soon after nine o’clock the following morning for he had a good deal to discuss with Sir James. He wished Mrs Grant and Jilly good morning as he went through the waiting room, to find Louisa there, checking the appointments book with Sir James.

  He bade her an unsmiling good morning and saw at a glance that she was Miss Howarth once more—not a hair out of place and wearing one of her elegant, unassuming outfits which turned her into a perfect receptionist. Her own good morning was composed as she slipped out of the room. She heard Sir James’s hearty ‘Thomas—good to see you back. Have you seen Helena? She must have missed you...’

  The doctor said evenly that he had seen her briefly. ‘But I got called away—that accident last night...’

  ‘Ah, yes. Very nasty.’ They exchanged medical details before Sir James said, ‘Now, tell me about our patient. He’s anxious to get home?’

  Louisa was glad that she was occupied with a patient’s queries when Thomas came back. She listened to his retreating footsteps and wanted most dreadfully to run after him while she smilingly assured the patient that her bill would be sent to her in due course. Thomas had looked tired; she didn’t know that he had been out for a good part of the night, but she did wonder if he had seen Helena.

  She bade a polite goodbye to the patient and reflected that she would go and see Felicity that evening and find out if Percy and Helena were still meeting and seeing each other. She had no wish to get on cordial terms with Percy again, but she couldn’t bear to see Thomas look like that—a kind of stony calm which must mask heaven only knew what feelings.

  She waited until she had had her supper before going to see Felicity, so that it was already faintly dusk when Biddy opened the door to her.

  ‘A sight for sore eyes,’ said Biddy. ‘The missus is in the drawing room with Mr Witherspoon. I’ll bring in some fresh coffee.’ She looked at Louisa’s face. ‘Had a good holiday? I must say you look a bit peaky.’

  ‘I had a lovely time. It’s hot in the consulting rooms,’ said Louisa, and made her way to the drawing room.

  Her stepmother was lounging on a sofa, but she sat up as Louisa went in.

  ‘Darling, how lovely to see you again. Did you have a good holiday in that God-forsaken place? The cards you sent look delightful, but I don’t suppose they’re anything like the real thing.’

  ‘Oh, but they are,’ said Louisa. ‘Though the real thing’s better.’ She turned to greet Percy with a smile. ‘Hello—we haven’t seen each other for ages. How are you, Percy? What have you been doing with yourself?’

  ‘Mending the poor heart you broke, Louisa.’ He contrived to look downcast.

  Louisa laughed. ‘I’m sure you’ve found plenty of girls to mend it for you.’ She raised enquiring brows so that it sounded like a question.

  ‘I must admit that the blow was softened to a certain extent...’

  ‘Helena Thornfold has been doing her best,’ said Felicity. Her voice held an edge of spite.

  ‘A marvellous girl,’ said Percy. ‘She isn’t only beautiful, she shares so many of my opinions and ideas. We are never at a loss when we are together.’

  Louisa said flatly, ‘She’s going to marry Dr Gifford.’

  ‘I have tried to make her see what a mistake that would be,’ said Percy earnestly. ‘They are incompatible, but she cannot bring herself to break his heart. He is deeply in love with her, you know.’

  A remark which should have given Louisa the greatest satisfaction, but didn’t. She had wanted Helena to fall for Percy and free Thomas, but now, instead of freeing him from a girl she had decided wasn’t the right wife for him, she was the means of hurting him. She said urgently, ‘Then shouldn’t you leave her alone to make sure that she’s doing the right thing? You’re taking advantage of him not being available to spend more time with her, aren’t you?’

  Percy gave her a searching look. ‘I can’t see that it’s any business of yours.’ He added pompously, ‘I shall do as I think fit in the matter.’

  She saw that she was going the wrong way about it.

  ‘Are you going to Megan Woodley’s wedding on Saturday? If you’re not taking Helena, will you take me? I hate going by myself...’

  Percy smiled. ‘Well, well, so we’re going to be friends again, are we, darling? As a matter of fact, Helena told me that she will be going with Gifford, so I’ll escort you with pleasure. And if I slip away once in a while you will quite understand, won’t you?’

  Felicity had been listening idly, but now she asked, ‘What shall you wear?’

  ‘I haven’t decided. I’ll have to get a hat...’

  There was no more talk of Helena; Felicity wanted to talk clothes, listening seriously to Percy’s opinions. He fancied himself as an expert on women’s fashions, and recommended that Louisa choose a subdued colour for her dress.

  ‘You’re a beautiful girl,’ he told her in a patronising voice, ‘but you must remember that you’re what is vulgarly known as “well endowed”.’

  Louisa assured him that she would bear in mind his good advice, and later, back at her flat, combed through her wardrobe in search of something striking. She found what she wanted—a dress which she had bought last year and which, once she had got it home, she’d decided was a trifle too colourful. It was a black and white crêpe de Chine with a bold floral pattern and a pleated jabot falling from a low neckline. Not her at all; she wondered what on earth had possessed her to buy it.

  But it would do nicely; Thomas wouldn’t like it, and it would emphasise Helena’s perfect taste. Percy wouldn’t like it either, but that didn’t matter in the least. She would get a large hat with an overpowering brim... The comparison would be very much in Helena’s favour; Thomas would love her even more than he had done. ‘And I,’ said Louisa, talking to herself since there was no one else to talk to, ‘will make sure that Percy doesn’t get near Helena.’

  The rest of the week was much as any other week; Louisa found time to buy a hat—an eye-catching black and white straw with a wide brim. She tried on the whole outfit and decided that Helena would be delighted when she saw it—and Percy had been right; the dress clung in all the wrong places.

  * * *

  Percy, very correctly dressed in his morning suit, arrived a little late on Saturday. The looks he cast her more than justified her expectations. He didn’t say anything until they wer
e arriving at the church, and then he said, ‘Darling Louisa, you look gorgeous, but I must admit that the dress isn’t quite you, and perhaps the hat could have been a shade smaller.’ He smirked at her. ‘Are you bidding for my attentions after all? I must tell you that, much as I love you, I have given my heart to Helena.’

  ‘You sound like a Victorian melodrama,’ said Louisa matter-of-factly. ‘Let’s go in before the bride arrives.’

  It was a lovely church, the oldest in Salisbury, and it was almost full.

  From her seat, Louisa looked carefully round her, peering with some difficulty from under the hat’s brim, catching the eyes of friends and acquaintances, nodding and smiling until her eye lighted upon Thomas and Helena, sitting several pews ahead of her. But it wasn’t until the congregation stood for the entry of the bride that she could get a good look at them.

  Helena looked beautiful in an ice-blue outfit and a matching hat which framed her face to perfection. Thomas towered beside her, immaculate in a grey morning suit of impeccable cut. There was a rustle of silk and chiffon as the congregation seated itself again and the service began. Louisa didn’t hear a word of it; she stood and sat and sang with everyone else and thought about Helena and Thomas getting married, aware that there was a stony sadness somewhere in her chest.

  The bride and groom came down the aisle followed by the bridesmaids and the families and then more slowly the guests. It was inevitable that she and Percy should come face to face with Thomas and Helena and, in the dictates of politeness, exchange a few words.

  Helena’s words, uttered in a low, sweet voice, carried barbs.

  ‘Louisa—such ages since we met. Did you have a good holiday? But I see that you did—so brown, and you’ve put on weight,’ she trilled with gentle laughter. ‘All that good Scottish porridge.’

  Louisa smiled politely and watched Helena and Percy exchange glances, and then peeped at Thomas’s face. He was watching them, too, but there was no expression on his face. He said all the right things in a placid manner and suggested that they should leave the church.

  ‘We’re bound to meet again at the reception,’ he observed pleasantly, and bore Helena off to the waiting car.

  The reception was at the Woodleys’ house, and since there were so many cars it took time to get there. Louisa kissed the bride, kissed the groom, too, since she had known him for years, and went to mingle with the guests, towing Percy with her. She hadn’t seen Helena, but she didn’t intend him to go looking for her.

  For a time all went well. They drank champagne, ate morsels of this and that, talked to their many friends, and Percy made no move to go off on his own. The cake was cut, toasts made and people began to stroll round the house and gardens while the bride and groom joined first one group and then another.

  Louisa saw Helena and Thomas on the terrace, made sure that Percy was deep in conversation, and bent to admire the bride’s ring. After a few leisurely moments she turned back to Percy. He wasn’t there, nor was he to be seen. What was worse, Helena was no longer on the terrace, the doctor was walking towards her, and it was too late for flight.

  He took her arm and walked her slowly away towards the rose garden at the further end of the lawn.

  ‘I’m looking for Percy,’ said Louisa, not at all her usual cool self. ‘He can’t be far away—he was here a minute ago...’

  ‘I suspect that Witherspoon is quite capable of looking after himself.’ He added calmly, ‘He will be with Helena.’ He glanced down at Louisa, unable to see her face because of the hat, but he was smiling.

  ‘Well,’ said Louisa, ‘I must find him; I think it is time we left...’

  ‘My dear Louisa, surely you know that no one goes before the happy pair? Besides, you must allow Helena and Percy a little time to themselves.’

  She peered up at him from under the preposterous brim. ‘But they shouldn’t—what I mean is, they don’t really—it’s just that you are so often away and Helena must get lonely. Besides, I think I may marry Percy myself.’

  The doctor suppressed a smile. ‘You mustn’t worry, Louisa, I am quite capable of managing my own affairs.’

  She said snappily, ‘I’m not worried. Why should I worry? I hardly know you.’ And then she added, ‘Don’t you mind?’

  ‘No. Tell me, why are you dressed in that bunchy frock and wearing that outsized hat? Almost as if you wish to create the impression that you aren’t in the least attractive. Foolish Louisa, don’t you know that nothing you wear could dim your beauty? So why?’

  ‘Helena is so beautiful; I wanted her to look lovelier than anyone else here.’ Louisa was aware that she hadn’t explained very clearly, but the doctor seemed to understand.

  ‘Ah, yes, of course. She does look particularly lovely today, doesn’t she?’

  Louisa said ‘Yes’ in small voice, then added, ‘We should go back to the house...’

  And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she asked, ‘When are you getting married?’

  He was strolling along beside her, very much at ease.

  ‘That is for the bride to decide.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ They walked on slowly and she tried to think of something to say, but all she was thinking of were the days they had spent together at Shieldaig, and on no account must they be mentioned.

  As they neared the house she could see Helena talking with several people, but there was no sign of Percy.

  ‘There’s Helena,’ said Louisa unnecessarily. ‘I expect she’s been looking for you. I’ll find Percy.’

  She had a sudden wish to tell him that she wasn’t going to marry Percy—not even if he was the last man on earth. Instead she said soberly, ‘Goodbye, Thomas,’ and walked away very fast.

  * * *

  Percy was unusually quiet as they drove back to Salisbury. Beyond remarking that it had been a charming wedding and what a pity that Louisa had chosen to wear that particular outfit, he had little to say. At her flat she asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee, only to be told that he had too much on his mind to be sociable.

  ‘Probably too much in your stomach as well,’ said Louisa. ‘Thanks for taking me to the wedding. I should have an early night if I were you.’

  ‘Sleep is out of the question,’ said Percy pompously. ‘You are a very unsympathetic girl, Louisa. I am only just beginning to realise that.’

  He drove away before she could think of an answer.

  The flat was warm and stuffy, so she opened all the windows, changed into a cotton dress, made a pot of tea and then gave the whole place a good clean because the idea of sitting down to read or watch television was suddenly unattractive. Tomorrow, she decided, she would get up early and drive to Stalbridge and spend the day with Aunt Martha. She was sure of a welcome, and the old lady would relish a good gossip about the wedding.

  It was a dull morning, but still very warm. Louisa, driving down to Stalbridge with almost no traffic on the roads at such an early hour, allowed her thoughts to wander to the wedding. It seemed to her that she had failed to interest Percy in herself, but that didn’t seem to matter, for the doctor didn’t appear to be at all alarmed at the deepening friendship between Helena and Percy.

  ‘So I need not do anything more about it,’ said Louisa, talking to herself as usual. ‘I expect he’ll whisk her away and marry her out of hand when he’s good and ready.’ The thought brought her no satisfaction; Helena would make him unhappy. She swallowed the sad little lump in her throat and thought about something else, only not very successfully.

  Aunt Martha was, as usual, pleased to see her.

  ‘My dear, this is nice. I’ve just this minute made coffee and put a nice little piece of lamb in the oven. We’ll sit down and you shall tell me about the wedding. The Woodleys are such nice people; one would wish them every happiness.’

  The sun was still behind thin
clouds, and they sat in the small sitting room, the coffee tray between them, and presently Aunt Martha asked, ‘You had a good holiday with Bob and Kitty? Thank you for your card, dear; it reminded me of the visits I paid there years ago. And what did you do with yourself all day?’

  She looked at Louisa with her mild brown eyes, the picture of casual interest, while Kitty’s letter—page after page of information about Thomas—sat snugly in her handbag. Kitty had suggested that the doctor’s interest in Louisa was rather more than casual, but that Louisa showed no signs of being in love. So now Aunt Martha began asking questions, carefully wrapped up in such a way that Louisa took them to be idle curiosity.

  ‘He sounds rather a nice man,’ said Aunt Martha mildly.

  ‘Well, yes, he is, most of the time. We don’t always see eye to eye.’

  ‘Life would be very dull if we agreed with each other all the time,’ pronounced her aunt. ‘Fetch the sherry and the glasses, child; we will have a drink before lunch.’

  * * *

  Driving back to Salisbury that evening, Louisa planned the week ahead. She would go and see Felicity, of course, and if she could get some extra time at lunch one day she would do some shopping. She needed a dress, something pretty, just one, in case Percy—or any of the men of her acquaintance—should ask her out. And she had promised to drive down to Southampton one evening to see an old school friend, not long married and with a first baby. There was plenty to fill her leisure, she decided.

  Monday was busy at the consulting rooms and Sir James was rather crusty. There was no sign of Thomas, although she really hadn’t expected him. All the same, she was conscious of disappointment, although she didn’t know why she should feel it; she certainly didn’t have the time to think about it.

  Sir James was still at his desk when she and Mrs Grant and Jilly prepared to leave, and he called her back at the last minute to rearrange some of his appointments so that the other two had already gone. In a hurry to get away before Sir James could find something else for her to do, she nipped across the waiting room and opened the door, to run full tilt into Thomas’s waistcoat. It was like hitting a tree trunk, and she almost tumbled over.