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Peter Raynal, Surgeon

Page 10

by Marjorie Moore


  “Don’t be fussy, darling, she’ll help you with the work and that’s the important thing ... wait a sec., was that a car? ... yes ... it must be Penny ... half a moment, darling, I’ll go and fetch her in.”

  Left alone, Kay stood helplessly where Robin had left her. Her thoughts were in a turmoil, the idea of Mrs. Sykes as an adjunct to her lovely new home filled her with dismay, but Robin was so childishly pleased with the idea and if it made him happy ... Kay’s thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Sykes herself, carrying a tray which she set down heavily on the table.

  “There, Miss ... a nice cup ‘er tea...” She stood, her wrinkled-up eyes beaming at Kay. “My ... you’re looking pale... it’s that there London air ... I sees you in church ... nigh on a year ago, when you was ’ome on ’oliday and I sez to Mr. Sykes then, that girl of Mrs. Somers looks right washed out.” She folded her hands complacently across her ample chest as she took in every detail of Kay’s appearance. “Mr. Robin’s told me as how you and him is putting up the banns ... me and Sykes is glad to hear it and we’ll be glad to stop on and work for you.”

  “Thanks ... Mr. Robin told me... I’m very pleased, I know your husband worked for Mr. Aldon for many years.”

  “Now the tea’s getting cold.” Mrs. Sykes spoke aggrievedly. “I brewed it when I ’eard Miss Penelope’s car a-coming ... Mr. Robin said as how she’d be along and what’s keeping them?” she asked as she crossed to the window and peered outside. “Chatting the two of them are, while the tea’s a-spoiling.”

  “They’ll be in a moment.” Kay crossed to the tray and commenced to pour the tea ... a thick, brown brew which Kay considered with an inward smile, couldn’t hurt much for standing. The china too, was a disgrace, she mused, hardly two pieces matched; hospital china was bad enough, but this was worse! Her lips curved with displeasure at the soiled tray-cloth and the chipped milk jug. It seemed to Kay even more certainly that Mrs. Sykes, as a domestic help, would be a positive menace rather than an asset.

  “Here is Penny.” Robin re-entered the house preceded by Kay’s sister, “—and a cup of tea! Just what the doctor ordered! I’ve been up since six and believe me I’m ready for it.” He crossed to the table and took a cup from Kay’s hand. “Thanks, Mrs. Sykes,” he called out after that lady’s departing figure, as he carried a cup across to Penelope, then took a second one for himself. “I’m glad you’ve turned up ... Kay hasn’t been here more than a few moments ... there are millions of things I want your help with ... I’ve done a round of the place with Sykes and we’ve thought out some ideas, but we want your opinion too.” He spoke with eager enthusiasm.

  “O.K. That’s what I’m here for!” Penelope sat on the arm of the sofa and balanced her cup on her knee. “Well, Kay, what do you think of your future home?” she asked, addressing her sister. She looked around the room. “Fine place, isn’t it ... I love this room, I remember it pretty well too ... we used to come over here for tea when we were kids ... grand tea too—” She smiled reminiscently, then pulling down her pretty red lips at the corners, added: “The worst of it was we always had to be dressed up in our best, How I used to hate that!”

  “I’ve an idea you’d still hate it.” Robin gave a hearty laugh. “You seem more at home in that get-up, but I must admit it suits you,” he added as he eyed her figure, in her work-worn garments, appraisingly. “Another cup of tea?”

  Kay refilled her sister’s cup. “On Robin’s behalf, I apologue for the china!” Kay laughed. “Awful, isn’t it? China is one of the things we must put on our shopping list,” she added, turning to Robin.

  “Seems all right to me...” Penelope held her cup and saucer up at eye level. “Not perhaps beautiful, but impractical.”

  “That’s the idea.” Robin gave Kay’s fingers a squeeze as he replaced his cup on the tray. “I’m afraid Kay’s outlook is more genteel than ours.” He turned round to face both girls. “Now we’ve no more time to waste, how about that tour of inspection?”

  “Please let’s go over the house first,” Kay begged. “You see, we must get the furniture replacements and things like that pretty soon, so that it’s all in hand before I go back to hospital. We have got to see what redecorating we want too, because I would like that done while I’m away.”

  “The outside work seems to me much more important ... it’s getting well on in the year and once winter sets in ... well, I don’t know, but indoor jobs can be done any time, outdoor work can’t.” Penelope lit a cigarette and threw the match with careful aim into the bricked fireplace. “The place looks all right, what’s the matter with it?”

  “I haven’t been upstairs yet,” Kay admitted, somewhat dashed by her sister’s obvious lack of interest in a matter which was so near her own heart, “... but I adore the house ... I’ve always loved it, but it has been allowed to go to rack and ruin.” She pointed to the corner above the arched doorway. “Look at that patch of damp and that terrible crack across the plaster, it really should be done ... besides, the furniture, I just couldn’t live with it!” “It’s certainly a bit shabby and old-fashioned,” Robin admitted. “We want something a bit more cheerful looking too, but there isn’t any hurry, we’ve all the time in the world.”

  “We haven’t now!” Penelope’s husky tones broke in. “I’ve got to get back to my job; let’s get going, Robin, I want to go over the ‘five acre’ with you ... let’s see what actual stock you’ve still got and what you’ll need to buy.”

  “Right you are,” Robin crossed to Kay. “Coming, darling, or perhaps you’d rather reconnoitre here ... have a look round and make up your mind what you want done—it’s all right by me, you do just as you like. Make a list of things you need to buy too ... Mrs. Sykes will help you, she knows what we’ve got and what we haven’t.”

  “I can’t do that without you,” Kay demurred, “... we must decide together ... but don’t you waste time now, go along with Penny; I won’t come anyway, I’ll wait for you here.”

  For a few seconds Kay stood by the window irresolute, watching Robin and her sister until they disappeared from sight, then turning back into the room, she picked up the tray and carried it through to the kitchen. It was a large room in the east part of the house which was built long before the rest of the rooms had been added. The tiled floor was uneven, the ceiling low and beamed. A modern gas-cooker over which Mrs. Sykes was stooping as Kay entered, looked almost incongruous, and apart from a well-worn sink, appeared to be the only addition which had been made to the room in the hundred years it had stood.

  As Kay entered, Mrs. Sykes turned from the stove and began to clear a corner of the littered table. “Put it down ‘ere, Miss. I’m still in a bit of a muddle but I ’aven’t got used to ’aving Mr. Robin ‘ome yet. Me and Sykes lived pretty quiet, and I ’aven’t got around to things yet, as yer might say.” She wiped her hands on the corner of her apron and commenced to remove some of the cooking utensils from the table to the draining board by the sink. “I must begin to get cleared up a bit, Mr. Robin says as how you’ll be stopping for dinner ... Miss Penelope, will she be stopping too?”

  “I shouldn’t think so...” Kay said doubtfully, then added: “But Mr. Robin may persuade her to come and lunch here instead of going home ... it depends how much they hope to do, I really don’t know. Anyway, we’d better prepare for her. I’ll set the table if you’ll just tell me where things are.”

  “Can’t start setting till I’ve cleared up this mess. I’ll have to give the table a scrub down too.”

  “But you aren’t serving lunch out here surely?” Kay asked in astonishment, but Mrs. Sykes seemed even more astonished than she.

  “Why ever not? Old Mr. Aldon ... and the Mistress too when she was alive—they always had their midday meal out here ... of an evening in the best room, but never when the Master was working, he wouldn’t stop to change, and the Mistress wouldn’t have no dirt carried through.”

  “I see...” Kay forced a laugh. “You see I’ve never lived on a
farm ... so I suppose I don’t know much about it ... You’d better carry on ... do what you like.”

  With a sinking feeling, Kay left the kitchen and made her way slowly up the broad oak stairs, her hand trailing along the well-worn balustrade. There seemed to be a lot she’d have to learn ... she told herself, and a lot she’d have to knuckle down to if Mrs. Sykes was to be placated. How could she ever get things the way she wanted them, take a pride in this lovely house, if old habits and customs were to be retained and Mrs. Sykes to have her own way in everything? Kay’s lips tightened, she’d managed more difficult people than Mrs. Sykes during her years at hospital, and she wasn’t going to be beaten now. Throwing open the door of what appeared to be the best bedroom, Kay entered. It was a lovely room, running the depth of the house, the latticed windows at either side catching every phase of the sun, which was now throwing dappled shadows on the polished oak floor. The bed was a monstrosity of ornate brass and the one or two pieces of genuine antique furniture were entirely dwarfed by a gigantic wardrobe of hideous yellow tones, which almost covered the length of one wall. It could be a wonderful room, Kay decided as she visualized light muslin curtains at the windows in place of the faded velvet, and a cupboard “built in” which would merge in with the rest of the woodwork, twin beds with matching covers and soft-toned rugs on the polished floors. It was a large house, Kay realized as she wandered from room to room, most of which were overcrowded with furniture, things that had been hoarded for years and which no one had found the courage to dispose of. Yet, despite everything, Kay knew she loved the house, knew without doubt that she could make of it all her heart desired ... but Robin must help too, she told herself, she couldn’t work at it alone. Together they must share the fun and happiness of turning Aldon Farm, not only as Robin had boasted, into the finest farm in the district, but into the home of her dreams.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Mrs. Somers ... Mrs. Somers...” Christine called from the garden. “Kay is coming back, I can see her, she is just reaching the top of the hill!”

  The child’s excited cry reached Mrs. Somers in the kitchen, where she was just clearing away the last remains of tea. Wiping her hands, she came through the tiny hall and joined Christine on the lawn. “Kay’s back earlier than I expected—now isn’t that nice, and you thought you wouldn’t see her before you went to bed.”

  “Lovely...” Christine agreed readily. “I’ve had a very busy day and I have enjoyed it very much, but I’ve missed Kay an awful lot.” She struggled to her feet and limped across the lawn, as Kay appeared at the gate, her face wreathed in smiles. “I’m so glad you’ve come back ... I did want to see you before I go to bed ... and I’ve such a lot to tell you ... I’ve walked all over the place ... I’ve been a great help to Mrs. Somers, haven’t I?” she asked turning back to her companion, then, without awaiting a reply, chatted on. “Biggy has been so good ... at least almost all the time, he did misbehave himself once, he’s asleep now, he looks so sweet curled up on my bed ... I know he ought to be with his brothers and sister and Mabel, but he looked so tired, I couldn’t disturb him.” Clinging on to Kay, she walked towards the cottage porch. “Have you been busy too? Do you like your new home? ... Mrs. Somers told me you are going to marry Mr. Aldon and live there; when can I see Mr. Aldon? Is he very, very nice?”

  “Darling ...” Kay gave the child an affectionate squeeze, “you are talking so much I can’t get a word in edgeways, anyway, I’m so puffed from walking up the hill that I must get my breath back.”

  Sinking into a chair, Kay drew the child down to her side. “I’m so glad you’ve had such a lovely day.” She turned to her mother. “I came back early, there really didn’t seem to be much more I could do, and I thought I’d be more useful here giving you a hand. Robin is coming over to supper, I expect he’ll be here most evenings, Mrs. Sykes is going to see to his breakfast and midday meal.” Kay pushed back a wave of her hair from her forehead, then let her hand drop back to her lap with an air of fatigue. “There seems an awful lot of work to be done down there, I don’t expect Robin back very early, he’s working terribly hard. Penny says the byres and sheas want an awful lot of attention before he can get new stock in; she managed to engage a couple of laborers for him this afternoon, and they are getting right down to the job. You see Farmer Dell’s auction is on Wednesday and Penny thinks Robin ought to bid for some of the livestock, she thinks it’s too good a chance to miss.”

  Mrs. Somers seated herself opposite her daughter and, adjusting her spectacles, pulled forward her work basket. She ran her hand down a stocking, searching carefully for holes before she spoke. “I heard the place had been sadly neglected.”

  “It certainly has ... Penny is going into Staunford and she is going to contact some of the hands that were turned off when Farmer Dell retired, she says there are one or two good men that Robin would be lucky to get.”

  “I knew there would be a lot for Robin to do ... you see the farm’s been empty since old Mr. Aldon died ... that’s a bare three months, but the villagers were gossiping before then, they were saying the old man lost interest two years ago and there was practically no stock left when he died.” Mrs. Somers threaded a needle with wool, then continued. “The house is pretty bad too, I expect.”

  “It’s awful! A lovely place just gone to rack and ruin. Not that it really wants much repair,” Kay amended. “But attention now will save a heap of trouble later. It’s none too clean either, and has that awful musty smell you get in unused rooms...” Kay crinkled up her nose. “The furniture is quite impossible, and the curtains and things are just fit for the dustbin!”

  “But, Kay, you’ll be able to make it pretty, won’t you? With flowery curtains—just like these, and pretty ornaments and things.” Christine, who had been silent for a few moments, now spoke. “You ought to have a very pretty house, Kay, it would match you.”

  “You silly child.” Kay spoke softly as she gave the child’s hair a gentle pull. “Things don’t ‘match’ people, but people try to make things the way they want them.” She paused, and again addressed her mother. “Robin has arranged for Mrs. Sykes to stay on, I would rather have run my home alone—and arranged things the way I like them.”

  Mrs. Somers looked up over her glasses, a smile playing round her lips. “I imagine you have very definite ideas of your own, but perhaps Mrs. Sykes will be helpful, after all she does understand the ways of the farm, she and her husband have been there many years.”

  “Her ways may not be my ways,” Kay persisted. “She actually served what she is pleased to term ‘dinner’ in the kitchen today ... Just picture it, Penny, Robin and me sitting down to dinner in the kitchen, with Mrs. Sykes serving our vegetables straight from the saucepan!”

  “Well, I don’t know ...” Mrs. Somers began tentatively, “but it seems to me that if Robin is going to work that place himself, he will be happier being a gentleman of leisure in the evening.” Mrs. Somers’ eyes twinkled. “You won’t like him lunching in the dining room—and a smart, modern dining-room it will be if I know anything about your taste—in his muddy boots and working clothes.”

  “You are as bad as Penny.” Kay laughed despite herself. “I suppose I’ve lived too long away from the country, I just can’t get used to things. Penny has been telling me today that I’m too fussy, that she can’t see why I want to bother to do up the house at all. According to her ideas it doesn’t matter what my home is like so long as the cows are comfortably housed!” Kay smiled ruefully. “I know I just couldn’t live in that house the way it is.”

  “You’ll get it right in time—it’s all this rush...” Mrs. Somers broke off and snipped off the end of the wool with her scissors, then viewed her handiwork critically. “The dam’s all right but these stockings of Penny’s are a disgrace, I keep telling her...” She broke off and rose to her feet. “I must go and have a peep at the joint, I’d better lower the gas a bit if Robin is likely to be late.” Reaching the door she turned and faced into the roo
m again. “Oh, Kay, I forgot to tell you Mr. Raynal rang up this morning, he has got to come out this way next Saturday, and he asked if he might look in. Of course I told him to come along any time, I tried to persuade him to lunch here but I doubt if he’ll be here until later.”

  “Mr. Raynal ... coming here Saturday?” Kay hastily bit back the words which sprang to her lips as she suddenly recalled Christine’s presence. With a quick change of manner, she added: “That will be lovely, won’t it, Christine? We didn’t think he’d get down again nearly so soon.”

  “You are glad, aren’t you?” Christine had obviously not missed Kay’s momentary vexation and was anxious for reassurance. Regretting her lapse, Kay hastened to remedy her mistake by assuming a pleasure almost matched by Christine’s own. Of course it would be marvellous to see Mr. Raynal again, lovely that he’d managed a visit so very quickly, and only went to show how often they might hope to see him. While Kay pretended her pleasure, her true feelings were very different and her thoughts were filled with irritation at the idea of this impending visit. Naturally she’d expected that Raynal would want to see the child, and indeed she had seconded her mother’s open invitation, but to avail himself of that invitation so soon after Christine’s arrival was—in Kay’s opinion—definitely outwearing his welcome.

  It was not until Christine was tucked safely away in her own room that Kay broached the subject again, as she and Mrs. Somers were preparing the evening meal. “Mother, don’t encourage Mr. Raynal here ... I mean if he rings up a lot, don’t always be so hospitable.”

  Mrs. Somers stopped beating the pudding and stared directly at Kay. “And why not? Surely if the man is interested in Christine it’s a good thing to encourage it, the poor child seems to have little enough love in her life—her father dead and her mother as good as no mother at all!”

 

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