Peter Raynal, Surgeon

by Marjorie Moore

  “Will you like helping on the farm—all the outdoor work in the fields and suchlike? Somehow I can’t imagine it. I think, like your sister, you have to be born with that sort of leaning.”

  “I don’t know.” Kay spoke with some diffidence and a tiny frown puckered her smooth forehead. “Frankly it frightens me a bit.” She paused and looked confidently at her friend as if seeking support. “Does it sound dreadful? But you know I couldn’t bear to do the things that Penny just takes in her stride; you see, somehow I hate to be knee-deep in mud, with perpetually dirty hands and soiled clothes; perhaps I’ll get used to it in time ... I’ll have to, you know; once the house is straight I can’t just sit back and let Robin do all the outside work. We have managed to get help, but according to Robin there is always plenty to do and never enough hands to cope, so I can’t sit back and look on, can I?”

  “I don’t know.” Janet hesitated, fearful of hurting Kay. “I think that a good farmer’s wife is something apart ... some sort of super-woman ... who can be all feminine when required yet possess the muscle and ability of a man ... I wonder ...” she began diffidently. “Aren’t you a bit jealous of your sister? I know I’d be in your place, I’d hate to feel she was getting all the fun.”

  “But it wouldn’t be fun to me—I just couldn’t help as she does—I wouldn’t know where to start.” Although Kay laughed, there was suddenly an aching doubt in her heart.

  It had been a jolly lunch and Kay felt rested and refreshed to commence her afternoon’s shopping. Satisfying ticks now marked many of the items on her list and Kay felt fully justified in devoting some time to the choice of her hat. There wasn’t really much difficulty, directly Kay saw it on the stand, she knew it was exactly what she wanted and as the assistant set the soft felt on her head and the downy feather trimming caressed her ear, Kay knew it was hers.

  “You really should wear it,” the assistant advised. “It’s so light it might crush if you carry it, and it’s really quite in keeping with your grey suit ... in fact it’s a hat you could wear on any occasion.”

  Any occasion? ... One occasion ... Kay smiled to herself, the assistant didn’t know, but it was going to be worn on the most momentous occasion of her life! “I suppose I could wear it...” Kay admitted doubtfully. “It certainly might get crushed, I’ve a fairly long journey ... by train.”

  “Then certainly, madam, I advise it.” With a practised show of admiration, the assistant stood back and appraised Kay. “Madam looks really smart ... that hat has a most becoming line, and will look equally well with a dress or a suit.” Before Kay could change her mind, her own grey felt had been thrust in a bag and with the blue feathers perched becomingly over one ear, Kay found herself outside the shop. There wasn’t much more time for shopping now and Kay decided, if she dropped the X-rays at Wimpole Street first, she could easily get the five-fifteen to Staunford. The blue feathers would certainly create an impression there, Kay decided with an inward smile.

  Ten minutes later Kay was standing outside Raynal’s door in Wimpole Street, awaiting an answer to her ring. It wasn’t long delayed and the butler who had served up such an admirable breakfast on the night she had stayed in the house with Christine, gave her a welcoming smile.

  “Good evening, Miss.” He ushered her into the hall. “Mr. Raynal is in his study, I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  “That’s quite unnecessary.” Kay held out the envelope of X-rays. “I don’t need to see Mr. Raynal, if you would kindly give him these ... I’ve a taxi waiting, I have to catch a train,” she added hurriedly as she caught a glimpse of Peter Raynal’s tall figure descending the stair way into the hall.

  “Kay ... is that you? ... You’ve brought Christine’s film, that’s awfully good of you, but don’t rush off,” he added as he realized Kay was edging her way back to the door. “Let’s have a look at them, I’ve got the others here, I’d like to see what progress there is.”

  “I want to catch the five-fifteen. I’ve just time,” Kay explained. “I’ve had a long day in town, I really must be getting back.”

  “The trains must run pretty frequently, so there really isn’t all that hurry.” Raynal smiled disarmingly. “If you’ve had a busy time in town, then there is all the more reason for a rest before you return. How about tea, have you had any?”

  “I really wasn’t going to bother,” Kay faltered with obvious signs of weakening. “It hadn’t seemed worth while losing the train and having an hour’s wait for the sake of a cup of tea.”

  “Come along in and have a rest, I’ll see you get the next train all right ... there isn’t any reason to rush, back, is there?”

  “I suppose not,” Kay admitted as she found herself mounting the stairs by Peter Raynal’s side. There really wasn’t much reason for hurry, she decided, Robin and Penny never got home for their evening meal until very late, m their efforts to snatch every moment of daylight, and Chris would be in bed anyway. With a grateful sigh Kay sank into the easy chair which Raynal had drawn forward and for a moment her eyes wandered round the well-remembered room. How comfortable it was, and in what perfect taste, if only she could bring such an atmosphere to her own home, an atmosphere not necessarily of luxury, but of restfulness. The rugs, with their deep mellowed tones, gave a sense of warmth ... if only Robin would let her scrap that awful green carpet in the lounge...

  “You seem very deep in thought, what is it?” Raynal’s tone was teasing as he asked the question.

  “I’m almost ashamed to admit I was thinking of furniture again ... admiring this room ... wondering if I could ever hope to achieve anything even a quarter as beautiful at Aldon Farm,” Kay admitted, then added hastily: “But I have got on, you know, thanks to you, I’ve made quite a lot of improvement but it’s slow going and very difficult to make decisions on my own.”

  “My advice, such as it is, is always at your disposal.” Raynal made a mock bow towards Kay then added more seriously: “This room is a favorite of mine, too...” He broke off. “Now here is tea, so forget such mundane things as furniture and indulge in the ‘cup that cheers’—or so I believe they say.”

  Kay sipped the hot tea appreciatively and helped herself to thin buttered toast. She suddenly realized how tired she was, the unaccustomed effort of shopping seemed to have left her physically and mentally exhausted. It was extremely pleasant to lie back and be waited on. Suddenly Kay sat forward. “The taxi ... is it still waiting?”

  “Don’t worry, my man sent him off, I’ll drive you to the station when you are ready.”

  “Thanks.” Kay sank back again gratefully. It really was extremely nice to let someone else do the thinking for a change, she mused, as she relaxed again against the cushions.

  “Forgive me being personal, but may I say how much I like your hat? Somehow it makes you look different, perhaps because I am not used to seeing you in a hat, anyway the effect is altogether charming.”

  Such a remark from Peter Raynal was so utterly unexpected that Kay felt the color mounting her cheeks, but the compliment was as gratifying as it was surprising. “I’m glad you like it.” Her words were prosaic but her tone expressed the pleasure, his words had evoked. “I know it’s a bit frivolous...” she explained deprecatingly. “I don’t usually indulge in such an extravagance, but you see, it’s for a very special occasion ... my wedding.” Then, suddenly aware of the informal trend the conversation was taking, Kay deliberately changed the subject and for half an hour or so they discussed generalities until their talk turned again to Aldon Farm.

  “I very much liked Mr. Aldon...” Raynal spoke sincerely. “I think there is little doubt he will make a big thing of that farm, he seems all out to make a success of it and I’m pretty sure he will. I enjoyed meeting your sister too ... how different you both are, I could hardly believe you were sisters. Miss Penelope seems a very capable young person, I don’t think much would daunt her, both she and Mr. Aldon seemed to be prepared to tackle anything.”

  “They are,” Kay agre
ed. “Penny works as hard as any man and you have no idea the amount she and Robin have achieved in the few days since you last saw the farm. She had given up her holiday to help Robin, you know, he’ll miss her help when she has to return to her own job.”

  “Then she isn’t staying on?” Raynal leaned forward to offer Kay a cigarette, then held his lighter to the tip until it burned satisfactorily.

  “Good gracious, no!” Kay rejoined, then added: “And when Penny goes back to her own work, that’s when I have to start to try and fill the gap.” She gave an involuntary sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll never fill it very adequately.”

  “Has it ever struck you that you will probably never really fill it at all?” There was a quizzical smile playing round the corners of Raynal’s lips, as he asked the question.

  “Both you and Janet—that is Nurse Ling—seem to think I am entirely incapable.” There was a note of anger in Kay’s voice, a note with which Peter Raynal was not unfamiliar and being only too well aware of its portent, he hastily changed the subject and engaged Kay’s attention with a close scrutiny of the X-rays she had brought with her.

  “I think the plaster can be removed as soon as possible, there appears to be perfect union. ” He replaced the films in their envelope. “Well, when do you suggest I should come down and do it?”

  “The sooner the better. I think Chris will be happier when the plaster is off, she’ll find it far less strain in getting about.”

  “Let me see...” Raynal rose and studied the engagement book on his desk. “I’ve got a pretty full week ... I don’t see how I’m going to fit it in ... perhaps the weekend...” he suggested doubtfully as he still studied the entries on the closely-filled pages.

  “Oh, surely you can manage before then, anyway it wouldn’t be a bit convenient, I am getting married on Saturday.”

  “On Saturday? That’s splendid!” He turned and smiled at Kay. “Then we certainly can’t intrude with work.” He returned his attention to the book and ran a finger down the entries. “Tomorrow ... no, I couldn’t get back in time...” Then replacing the book on the desk, he turned again to Kay. “I’ve an idea, supposing I run you back this evening ... yes, I realize that Christine will already be in bed,” he interposed as Kay made to interrupt, “... but I could stay overnight at that hotel in the village and if I could come dong, say about eight-thirty in the morning, I could get back to town by ten ... I daren’t be any later, I’ve a pretty full morning.”

  “That would certainly get the thing done,” Kay agreed. “That is, if you don’t mind staying overnight. I’m sorry we can’t offer to put you up, but the hotel is very good.”

  “I certainly think it’s the obvious plan ... Well then, there isn’t any hurry, would you perhaps care to dine in town with me first?”

  “No thanks, Mother will be expecting me and both Robin and Penny get back for our evening meal so I must go home ... but of course, we’d be glad if you’d dine with us.” Kay found to her surprise as she awaited his answer, that the invitation hadn’t been a mere formality, that she would really be glad if Raynal would join them. She was still asking herself why she had suddenly developed such enthusiasm for his company, when he replied.

  “I’d be glad to ... that is, of course, if it won’t be any trouble,” he added with some hesitation.

  “Nothing is ever a trouble to Mother, she’d be most hurt if you refused.” Again Kay asked herself why she was so encouraging and then the reason appeared obvious. It would be a change—and a very pleasant change, as surely with Peter Raynal present, neither Robin nor Penelope could possibly spend the whole of the evening discussing farming? She was so heartily sick of the endless discussions on milk yields, feeding stuffs and early crops, that a little general conversation would be an extremely pleasant and welcome change.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Mrs. Somers soon dispelled any further doubts which Peter Raynal might have harbored as to his welcome. She greeted him warmly and indeed it would have been difficult to do other than accept her invitation to remain to a meal.

  “I am afraid we have dinner rather late,” she added apologetically, “but Penelope and Robin keep such ridiculous hours...” She turned to Kay: “Perhaps you’ll mix a drink for Mr. Raynal while I get on.” She paused, then added: “I’ve an idea they are likely to be particularly late today as they’ve run up to London to see about some roofing-felt for the chicken run and that car of old Mr. Aldon’s has been laid up for years, it will be a miracle to me if it gets them mere and back without trouble.”

  “They’ve been up to town?” Kay could not keep the note of surprise from her voice “... why on earth didn’t they say so, they must have known I was going myself today?”

  “That’s what I thought ... and that early train so crowded and uncomfortable too, but you know what a crazy pair they are, I don’t believe they made up their minds until the very last moment, in fact you’d already left when Penny phoned me.”

  “I see.” Kay was conscious of resentment. It did seem a shame that Robin had been in town the whole day and she hadn’t even known it. It would have been fun going up together—and lunching too, she’d have loved to introduce him to Janet. It would have been even more aggravating if she’d had that tiring journey back by train and it had only been sheer luck that Raynal had given her a lift. Really, the way he and Penny were rushing around was rather absurd, trying to accomplish far too much at once, wearing themselves out and making things uncomfortable for everyone else too. The evening meal got later and later; lunch, which they ate at the farm, was served at any time between twelve and three, and as for breakfast, Penny would soon be demanding that in the middle of the night!

  “I suggest we give them until eight and then have a meal.” There was a trace of sarcasm in her words as she continued. “After all, they can’t do much in town after five and even working on one cylinder, the car could scarcely take longer than three hours.”

  “All right, dear, that’s a good idea.” Mrs. Somers had quickly recognized the edge to Kay’s voice. “I’ve no doubt they’ll be back by then, but if not we won’t wait.” She smiled at Kay. “When you’ve fixed a drink for Mr. Raynal, why don’t you play something; I don’t expect Mr. Raynal has ever heard you play and you know how Chris loves it when she is settling down to sleep.”

  “Do you play?” Raynal grasped at the straw Mrs. Somers had thrown him; it seemed an excellent way of diverting the conversation.

  Kay took the decanter of sherry and glasses from the cupboard before replying. “I used to play ... I’ve given it up now.” She hesitated, decanter in hand. “Do you prefer whisky?”

  “No, thanks, that’s splendid.” He took the proffered glass. “Will you play something for me?” It seemed the obvious and polite thing to say, but Raynal had no intention of pressing the issue; he loved and appreciated music and the idea of listening to an obvious amateur tapping out tunes on what was probably a tinny piano, didn’t really appeal at all.

  Kay was not the sort of person who, when asked to play, persisted in futile excuses until her diffidence was overcome. It seemed as natural to her to sit at the piano as to make conversation, she knew herself to be out of practice, and yet, without conceit, was fully aware of her ability to please all but the most exacting of critics. Her playing proved a revelation to Raynal, and from the moment her fingers rested on the keys he knew his apprehension had been groundless. Kay was no ordinary pianist, who by dint of hard work could now render a few classical pieces without stumbling; here was a touch of genius, a love and understanding of music which could never be acquired.

  “That was perfect!” Raynal’s tone was charged with admiration as Kay, striking the final chords, dropped her hands from the keys. “You really mean you have given up music ... you don’t play now?” There was incredulity in his voice.

  “I’ve hardly had time, have I? Nursing is a full-time job.”

  “I appreciate that ... but it seems so wrong . . Raynal paused, realizing th
at it was hardly his affair. “Please go on playing ... as far as I’m concerned never stop!” he ended laughingly.

  The glorious cadence of sound again filled the room and Raynal, lost in enjoyment, was scarcely aware of the passage of time. It was with a sense of disappointment that he became aware of Mrs. Somers’ form in the doorway.

  “Dinner is ready, it’s gone eight so we won’t wait any longer.” She stole a glance at Kay, who was quite serene again. She had been like that from childhood, so quick with her temper, but left alone at the piano her anger invariably seemed to disappear, Mrs. Somers mused, as she preceded Kay into the dining room.

  Raynal was aware of the same pleasant atmosphere at dinner as he had experienced at the first lunch he had taken at the cottage. Mrs. Somers was, in her simple way, a born hostess. She had a knack of radiating her own good-humor and homeliness, and the meal, though simple, was perfect in every detail. It was only towards the end, when Raynal was sipping his coffee, that he became aware of a discordant note as Kay, glancing at the clock, addressed her mother.

  “It’s just as well we didn’t wait, do you realize it’s nearly nine? I should think they must be walking back.” Even as Kay spoke, there was a crunch of gravel in the drive, followed by the sound of voices and in a moment Penelope had burst into the room.

  “Oh, you’ve had dinner ... that’s a good thing.. She broke off as she became aware of a visitor, then advanced with outstretched hand. “Oh, Mr. Raynal, we saw a car and wondered whose it was ... did you bring Kay back?” Without awaiting a reply, she turned to her mother. “Robin and I had something to eat on the road, I was famished and couldn’t wait another minute.” She laughed. “Not exactly dinner ... to call it that would be an over-statement, we went into a pub and had a beer and sandwiches.” Penelope took off her hat and flung it on a chair, then, shaking free her dark mop of curls, continued speaking. “The car ran badly too ... Robin said the plugs were probably oiled up, I don’t know, but it certainly didn’t act as a self-respecting car should.” She laughed, but to Kay at least, there seemed an artificial ring to her laughter and it was almost as if she were making an effort to farther conversation. “Robin is fiddling with the plugs now ... as if it matters, it’s brought us safely from London, I should think it will hold out until he gets back to the farm.”