“Mother was absolutely sweet, I had a wonderful letter from her, she says Christine will be company for her and she adores children. Penny is out a good bit too, so Mother gets pretty lonely at times.” Kay forced another pair of shoes into the corner of her case, then pressing the lid down, she commenced to struggle with the locks. When she looked up from the difficult job, her face was flushed with exertion. “I get home by lunchtime today, I’ll have all day tomorrow to get Christine settled down with Mother, and by the time Robin arrives. I’ll bet Christine will be one of the family and won’t mind being left.”
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Janet gave an exaggerated sigh. “You are a lucky cat! I suppose you’ll get married pretty soon?”
“As soon as we can. If there is any difficulty about banns and things, it will be by special licence. I had a letter from Robin last week, he thinks we may have to cut out a proper honeymoon until later. Robin suggests in his letter we go straight to the farm, because there are so many things he wants me to decide. We shan’t be able to get on with the furnishing and decorations if we have a honeymoon and then I leave him alone, to come back here.”
“Pity you couldn’t have had the place spruced up before you lived there, but I expect you are right, you ought to be there to see how you want things done. Well, I suppose I must go, can’t set a bad example by being late on duty my first day with a new Sister.” Janet grimaced. “How I am going to hate this place without you and to think I can’t even be at your wedding!”
“I’m sorry about that, too,” Kay admitted. “But it will be a very dull affair anyway, and once I’m married, you’ve got to spend your very first free weekend with us.”
“I’d adore to ... I say Kay, there is something I want to tell you. Martin Grig has asked me to spend one Saturday with him, suggests we go a run in the car. Do you think I’d be a fool to accept?”
“I never think that hospital friendships with the Resident Staff are wise, they usually cause an awful lot of gossip, but Mr. Grig is a good sort and I don’t really see any reason why you shouldn’t accept. For goodness sake, don’t get talked about,” Kay begged. “But you’ve been too long in hospital to need any advice about that!” she ended laughingly. She glanced at her clock. “Do you get along, you will be late, you know...” She took her friend by the shoulders and steered her to the door. With a final squeeze of the hand, Kay shut the door behind her friend and then returned to the problem of her packing.
She was still tackling the locks of her suitcase when there was a knock at the door and Pamela Long stood in the doorway, a large parcel in her arms. “Sorry to disturb you, Sister, but this is a little farewell present from the staff ... we are very sorry you are leaving and we all wish you luck. We didn’t want to give it when you really leave, because we thought you might like it for your new home now.”
“Thank you, Long, that’s very sweet of you all. I really do appreciate it very much.” Kay took the bulky parcel from the other girl’s arms.
“There is a list of names inside,” Nurse Long explained, as she prepared to make a hasty retreat.
“I’ll be writing to everyone, and please do thank au those you can meanwhile.”
Kay carried the parcel over to the bed and began to undo the knotted string. It was sweet of the staff, she considered, as she began to unfold the thick paper covering, it was a kindly gesture usually done for any departing member of the staff, and she knew only too well how some of the nurses could ill afford those odd shillings which they so generously gave.
Removing the paper, Kay lifted the lid. Her eyebrows arched and her lips trembled into a smile. A clock ... of all things a clock! Kay sank down on to the bed still holding the cumbersome box in her hands, and as she looked at it more closely, she could have sworn that its face was an exact replica of the tower clock overlooking the quadrangle!
The morning of Kay’s departure for her holiday showed no break in the spell of fine weather. The blue sky was flecked with tiny white clouds and a light breeze stirred the leafy treetops. If Kay had harbored any doubts at all about taking Chris to her home, they were completely dispelled when the child, being told of the arrangement, fell on her neck in a state of ecstatic abandon.
As the car taking Peter Raynal, Kay and Christine down to Thorndene left London behind and reached the hilly roads of Surrey, the child’s joy increased; for the first time she seemed really happy and to listen to her joyous prattle filled Kay with a sense of inward satisfaction at the step she had taken. Propped on the back seat and supported with cushions, Christine kept up a running fire of questions to Kay and her uncle, obviously interested in what was happening around her.
“Sister, tell me some more about Thorndene, has it got shops and streets and things or is it a real village?”
“First of all, Chris darling, I think you ought to stop calling me ‘Sister,’ now. You see we aren’t at hospital any more and when I’m not at hospital, I’m not a Sister. How about calling me Kay?”
“I’d love to ... Kay ... that sounds awfully nice and friendly.” Christine pondered the matter for a moment, then added: “Then Uncle must call you Kay too, because he isn’t at hospital either.”
Kay felt Raynal turn his eyes for a moment in her direction, perhaps trying to sense how she had taken the suggestion, but before she could speak, he took it upon himself to reply.
“I think that’s an excellent suggestion, how about it, Kay?”
“Just as you wish, of course.” Kay’s lips tightened and her expression denoted her disagreement with the idea, although she did not delude herself that many of the nurses at St. Jude’s would have given anything to be on such unconventional terms with their adored surgeon.
“That’s much nicer.” Christine clasped her small hands together. “I think it a lot friendlier feeling.”
Kay turned in her seat to smile at the child. “Now I’ll tell you some more about Thorndene. It’s really a village, only one shop and you have to take a bus for about seven miles if you want to do any real shopping. Of course, the village shop keeps nearly everything, groceries, sweets, stamps and even reels of cotton, so we don’t often have to go into town.”
“It sounds lovely ... and the pond in your garden—can you swim in it?”
“Yes, I used to when I was young. My sister Penelope and I—and a boy called Robin, with whom we used to play—rigged up a diving board, it’s still there. There is a little boat too, and you can learn to row.”
“How about stopping for some coffee?” Raynal turned to his companion. “It might be just as well to give Christine a stretch, she may get cramped on that seat.”
“Just as you think,” Kay agreed, and presently Raynal drew the car to a stop before a cottage where the garden was set out invitingly with small tables and chairs, sheltered by large, bright-colored umbrellas.
Peter Raynal lifted the child from the car and set her carefully on her feet. The leg swathed in heavy plaster looked almost grotesque in comparison with the slender body. “Are you going to take my arm and try to walk?”
The going was slow and it was obviously difficult, but Kay, watching the progress, was satisfied. Christine was evidently making an effort, and that would be the beginning of her progress. Seated now at the table, the child addressed Kay. “That was good, wasn’t it? It’s not so difficult walking here. I couldn’t in the ward, not really, you see people were watching me,” she explained simply.
“Yes, I know,” Kay agreed. “Now, Chris, how about some milk? It’s real country milk here and will taste quite different.”
Seated in the small garden, with its bright herbaceous border. Kay was conscious of a deep sense of peace. The simple happiness of the child seemed to envelop them in a cloak of contentment. The warm sun beat down on Kay’s bare head and arms and made the soft waves of her hair glint like red gold. Raynal took his cigarette case from his pocket and handed it to her, then leaning across the table applied a light. It was really the first time he’d seen her ou
t of uniform, he decided, the night she’d returned with Grig he’d been far too preoccupied with his own affairs to spare her a glance. She looked much younger—most of the nurses did, he told himself, but although they looked younger he considered that, taking them on the whole, they were disappointing in mufti. Nursing uniform was severe but, in his opinion, not unbecoming, and definitely an improvement on some of the fussy clothes the girls adopted directly they shed hospital attire. Although he disliked and resented Kay’s overbearing and autocratic manner, he had always been aware of her attraction; now, in her blue and white silk frock and her head uncovered, displaying the golden halo of her hair, he decided, her slim figure showed to advantage in the simple frock, and her lips, with a touch of lipstick, served to enhance the transparent pallor of her skin. In spite of her fair coloring, her eyes were dark-lashed and as they turned to him, he was uncomfortably aware that she observed his scrutiny. Stubbing out his cigarette, he rose quickly to his feet. “I’ll go and settle the bill, I suppose we ought to be moving.”
The rest of the journey passed quickly, Christine’s questions never stopped and Kay was glad, since it saved any possibility of conversation between Raynal and herself. “You take the next lane on the right—it’s rather rutted I’m afraid, but it’s a private road leading direct to our cottage.”
“What’s the cottage called?” Christine asked eagerly.
“ ‘Hilltop,’ you see we are climbing all the time, it’s very high and looks right down over the village.”
As the car drew up before the white gates, Christine clapped her hands joyously. “Oh, look, Uncle, it’s lovely ... all honeysuckle, and look, yes ... I can see the pond ... down there under the trees!” In her excitement Christine forgot to wait for a helping hand and had swung her legs down from the seat. “There is a swing, too ... under the apple tree and oh, look! that big dog ... Uncle, see ... there are puppies too ... one, two ... yes ... I believe there are three of them!”
A crazy-paved path led up to a porched doorway which was flung wide open. The figure, which emerged was that of a short, stocky woman of middle-age, who approached with a smile of welcome. As Kay alighted, she was immediately clasped in the older woman’s arms and fondly embraced. Gently releasing herself, Kay turned to Peter Raynal, who was still seated at the wheel. “My mother ... Mr. Raynal.” The introduction was brief and Kay turned immediately to the back of the car, where Christine, now overtaken with shyness, was silently viewing the greeting. “And this is Chris ... the little girl I wrote to you about, she has come to stay with us.”
“Why, she’s just as fair as you were, when you were young, Kay.” She turned a beaming smile on the child, and before either Kay or Peter Raynal could protest, had lifted Christine from the car and set her on the ground. “There now, you can walk if I help you, can’t you? Kay told me in her letter how well you were walking. You come along with me and see your bedroom. Look at Mabel over there ... that’s a retriever, she’s got some lovely puppies and she has put one in your room, I think she must have meant it for you to look after.”
“What for me? ... to keep?” Christine’s eyes were shining as she put her hand confidently in the hand of the older woman. “Please take me to see it... I’ve never had a puppy, I think I’d like it more than anything.”
As Mrs. Somers and the child entered the cottage, Raynal slipped from the driving seat and stood beside Kay. For a moment his eyes followed them, then turning to Kay, he spoke. “I was grateful to you before, now I am at a complete loss for words, your mother is as wonderful with children as you—I shall never be able to thank you both enough.”
“Christine will be all right. I should not have brought her down if I hadn’t been sure of that. Now, don’t you think we might get some of this luggage out of the car?” Kay suggested briskly.
The inside of the cottage was as attractive as the outside had appeared. It was old and had been converted in a somewhat patchy and inadequate manner, but, at least it had not lost its old-world atmosphere. The furnishings were shabby and faded, but the brass ornaments shone, and the small lounge was bright with flowers arranged in attractive pottery vases. Left alone while Kay dealt with the luggage he had brought in, Peter Raynal looked around him. The small room held such an atmosphere of home, its tidiness and cleanliness attracted him, and yet the sewing-basket half-opened, revealing a pile of mending and an open book with a pair of spectacles on the top, only added homely details to the setting. Christine would be happy here, he knew that so surely that his heart filled with gratitude. He loved the child deeply, not only because he had cared for the twin brother he had lost, but because the child herself had come to mean more to him than he had ever believed possible.
Idly he picked up a book from the table, then replaced it quickly as Mrs. Somers entered the room.
“Well, that’s that.” Her kindly face smiled at him. She too, must have been good-looking once, he reflected, her fair hair was now greying at the temples and her figure had rounded but her face was unwrinkled and her eyes still held something of Kay’s own serene expression. “Chris is lying on her bed, playing with the puppy. I think it’s better for her there, the child’s tired, I’ve persuaded her to have some lunch in bed.”
“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Raynal agreed. “It’s her first outing since her accident, she needs to take things quietly for a while.”
“Now don’t worry about her, I’ve brought up four of my own and there isn’t anything I don’t know about children.”
Peter Raynal hid a smile. There was certainly something akin between Kay and her mother, they both took a firm line of their own apparently, and neither of them tolerated interference. “There is no one with whom I would more confidently leave the child.”
Mrs. Somers threw him one of her beaming smiles. “I’m glad to have the child for company, especially now that Kay will be marrying so soon, not that I’ve seen much of her all the years she’s been nursing,” she interposed. “And my other girl, Penelope, is helping Mr. Morgan all day long—and there are my two sons, both overseas—well, I get too much time for thinking, a little young companionship will do me good.” She seated herself in an armchair and indicated one the other side of the bricked fireplace. “Sit down, Mr. Raynal, lunch won’t be ready for a minute or two, I didn’t know exactly what time you’d be arriving so I kept the meal back a bit. Kay is seeing to it, she is a wonderful help, she takes everything out of my hands when she comes home.”
“But I should be getting back...” Raynal demurred. “I won’t wait for lunch, although many thanks all the same...”
“Of course you will!” Mrs. Somers insisted. “You must have something before you go back.”
“It really doesn’t take very long and I have to work this afternoon,” Raynal began diffidently, but he was not allowed to continue.
“You can’t work without a meal and it’s quicker to have it here than stop on the road.”
It was certainly quicker to give in gracefully. Raynal decided, and somehow he didn’t now feel in any hurry to leave. There was such an atmosphere of peace in this remote cottage that he was loathe to tear himself away.
“You won’t mind if I run down and see Christine now and again?” he asked.
“You come along just when you like and once Kay is married there will be a spare room too; come along and have a few days with Christine, she’ll love it, and it won’t be any trouble to me.”
“You are really very kind.” Raynal paused. “You must be excited about your daughter’s coming marriage?”
“Well, I don’t know...” Mrs. Somers leaned a little forward and lowered her voice. “I think they are hurrying things rather too much. Robin Aldon is a charming boy, I’ve known him since he was a child, he used to come in here to play on his way back from school, but he’s been away a long time, years in fact, and being away from this country sometimes changes people. I think that he and Kay ought to get to know one another again before taking such an irrevocable
step.”
“I didn’t realize that Kay hadn’t seen her fiancé for so long.”
“Not for nearly seven years,” Mrs. Somers interrupted before Raynal could continue. “I know she has changed a lot and no doubt he has too. I can’t see what the rush is; after all they’ve waited so long, you wouldn’t think a few months one way or the other would matter,” she continued aggrievedly. “The trouble is that Robin has taken over his father’s farm and he is naturally anxious to get the thing going as soon as possible; he wants Kay’s help with the job, wants them to go into the thing together from the word ‘go,’ so the idea is to get married as soon as he gets back and then they’ll start in right away.”
“I see.” Peter Raynal’s tone was thoughtful. He hadn’t given much consideration to Sister Somers’ marriage and actually it didn’t interest him. He had not been sorry when she’d told him she was leaving, it seemed to solve a lot of problems, as certainly he hadn’t felt he could have tolerated her insolence much longer, much as he would have hated putting the matter before Matron. The fact that she was quitting the hospital had seemed to him, at the time, to have cleared the position considerably, and the fact that she was leaving to get married had been an added satisfaction since, although he deplored her arrogance and apparent inability to submit to those in authority, he was much too fair not to appreciate the excellence of her work and to wish her well in any future she had chosen. Marriage in his opinion was obviously the happiest solution for any girl, whatever her career. She’d be a bit tricky to handle as a wife, he mused; as he turned over Mrs. Somers’ recent confidence in his mind, he thought it might be just as well for Robin Aldon if he, too, waited a bit before rushing into an alliance with a girl he hadn’t seen for years. Kay could just freeze a man if she wanted to, what an icicle she could be, and was he the type of man who would stand out against her arrogance? Raynal drew at his cigarette as he considered the problem. Probably he was wrong, Mrs. Somers might be wrong too. Kay was hard and unyielding in her attitude and yet the glimpse he had had of her lately, her gentle affection for Christine, had shown him another side to her character. Perhaps her stern aloofness was an armor, which any man who won her love might sweep away with ease, and find beneath all the warmth and love he desired. Perhaps Robin Aldon was this man, he could only hope so.
Peter Raynal, Surgeon Page 7