Peter Raynal, Surgeon

by Marjorie Moore

  The curtains had been drawn back in the lounge and long windows either end flooded the room with light. The walnut furniture against the white panelling of the walls, lent an air of warmth, and the tea table drawn up before a log fire, gave the room a lived-in and welcoming appearance.

  Kay thrilled to the sight of the Wedgewood tea service and the shining silver, and even the somewhat clumsy efforts of the caretaker to produce sandwiches and the plate of stale-looking currant cake, didn’t detract from the beautiful utensils.

  Putting his cup down on a side table, Raynal drew out his pocket case and taking out a sheet of paper handed it to Kay. “How does that look to you ... and, by the way, I don’t even know your middle name, if you have one?” he amended with a laugh.

  Kay in some surprise took the paper, but her heart beat faster as she read the pencilled lines. “... by special licence Peter Rupert Raynal, last surviving son of ... to Kay Somers...”

  “I thought we’d better put an announcement in The Times ... it may seem rather a hole and corner affair if we don’t, you see I have a wide circle of family and friends...” He broke off as if embarrassed by her silence.

  “Of course, I quite understand.” Seeing the facts in black and white was so overwhelming that Kay had difficulty in controlling her voice.

  “... and by the way,” Raynal dug deeply into his pocket. “Ah, here it is!” He produced a small box, with something of the triumphant gesture of a conjurer producing a rabbit from a hat. “I’ve a patient in Hatton Garden and I dragged the poor man out of his bed on a Sunday morning ... I performed a pretty tricky operation on him last year so I felt quite justified. Here ... try it on.” He handed over the box.

  Kay opened the lid, then gasped speechlessly at the flawless diamond ring resting against white satin. “But ... but it’s wonderful...” The words broke from her lips as she sat staring at the exquisite stone, scarcely daring to touch it.

  “Better try it on ... the size was a wild guess, but I’m assured it can be altered.” There was something boyish about his anxiety, as he watched Kay lift the ring from its box and waited anxiously for her to fit it on her finger. Suddenly he jumped to his feet and crossed to her side. “Here, let me do that, I believe it’s the correct thing and anyway it will be good practice!”

  Taking Kay’s wrist in his long, sensitive hand, he slipped the ring over her finger, then raising her hand to his lips, kissed it softly. “Good luck, my dear ... always.” As he lifted his head, his eyes met hers and Kay was surprised by the deep intensity of his gaze. It stirred her strangely and laughing to hide her embarrassment, she turned her attention to the ring, holding up her hand so that the light caught the facets of the stone, sending out sparks of brilliance.

  “It’s beautiful ... and it fits!” She struggled for composure. “And thank you ... for ... for everything.”

  “Don’t start thanking me ... ever.” There was a note of authority in his voice as he laid the emphasis on the pronoun. “The boot is on the other foot.” There was a depth of sincerity in his voice, but before Kay could question it, he had returned to his seat and laughingly continued the conversation from where they had left off before the incident of the ring. “Now about this announcement ... have you another name? ... And I’ve put ‘daughter of the late Mr. Somers and Mrs. Somers’ ...” he lifted his eyebrow questioningly. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Daddy died at the beginning of the war, that’s why I had to give up all idea of music and stick to nursing. I haven’t a middle name and I don’t care a lot about yours, must you put it in?”

  “I suppose not, it’s awful, isn’t it? I usually sign myself ‘Peter R.’ I don’t know what made me write it in full, I never do.” He took the paper from Kay and deleted “Rupert” carefully.

  “I think that Rupert is a ghastly name to bless a child with, I’m glad it was only an afterthought and they put the Peter first.”

  “Now I know!” Raynal shook a finger at Kay in mock threat. “I was wondering how I’d ever control that awful temper of yours when I hadn’t the magic name of Matron to subdue you with. I shall threaten to christen our firstborn son Rupert!”

  A hot wave of color flooded Kay’s cheeks and it was as if the happiness she had known that last hour had been a fool’s paradise. In those words, unthinkingly, Raynal had forced her to stark realization. Her lips opened to speak but it seemed to Kay that words would never come. Her distress was obvious and in a second Raynal had left his chair and seating himself on the couch beside her, had placed his arm round her waist and drawn her close to his side.

  “I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me.” Even in her own embarrassment, Kay was aware of the strained quality of Raynal’s voice. “Don’t worry, Kay, I didn’t mean that, I was only fooling ... our relationship shall be exactly as you wish ... I shall never force myself on you, but just hope that one day you may grow to care for me ... that you might even love me a little.” He had drawn Kay’s head down to his shoulder and his hand was stroking the soft waves of her hair.

  The gentle movement was incredibly soothing and almost unconsciously, Kay laid her hand over his, where it rested at her waist as if she would lock herself forever in his hold. At first his phrase had been a meaningless jumble of words, then gradually their meaning took shape and with her face still buried on his shoulder, so that he had to stoop lower to catch her muffled tones, Kay replied. “I ... I don’t think you understand ... I ... I know you overheard what I told Janet, that I’d marry anyone, I thought I could, but now that it has happened I know that I shall never be able to carry it through...” Kay moved her head and she could feel the dull, slow beat of his heart There was a long-drawn silence, and when Raynal spoke again his voice was hoarse and unfamiliar.

  “I don’t think I do understand.” His words were stilted and toneless. “You feel you cannot go through with this ... naturally you have every right to change your mind.” His arm dropped from her waist and lay inert along the back of the sofa.

  “No ... It’s not that!” Kay lifted her face to his and her fingers clung desperately to the lapels of the jacket Her slender body trembled as she struggled with the fear that his words had evoked. “I thought I’d be too proud ever to admit it...” Her voice broke on a sob and her eyes stung with unbidden tears. “It’s just that I realize now how much I care for you ... I knew the truth this morning when Janet advised me to write asking you to release me from my promise ... I knew then that I didn’t want to...” Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I never meant you to know ... I believed it to be better that you shouldn’t ... I’d have made a home for you and looked after Chris, which was all you seemed to want of me. I’ve always cared for you, but pride and perversity made me behave towards you as I did. I know now that it was a form of protection to hide my real feelings, not only from you but even from myself!” A tear, no longer to be denied, trickled slowly from beneath Kay’s lashes. “Now I suppose you despise me...” She buried her face in her hands as she drew away from his side.

  “Kay ... Kay, darling.” Raynal’s voice was filled with suppressed emotion as he put his arms round her again and gently drawing her hand from her face, he cupped it within his own. Tenderly he looked down at her. “You have made me happier than I ever believed possible, I love you too, so much, but I didn’t dare tell you, I just hoped that one day ... when we knew more of one another, it might have been easier, but just yet I was afraid, afraid that any such declaration might be ill-timed and only serve to drive you away.” Taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he wiped Kay’s tears with gentle touch, and a whimsical smile played round his mouth as he continued. “I knew how much I cared about you when you told me that you’d put off your marriage to Aldon, and I realized then why I minded so much about what was apparently no concern of mine.” He stooped towards Kay and kissed her softly on the forehead. “When I came to analyze my own feelings, darling, it occurred to me that I must have loved you long before that, or I should never have t
olerated your rudeness with such equanimity!”

  “It’s true, you really mean that?” A light of supreme happiness shone in Kay’s eyes, despite the tears which still trembled on her lids.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Kay could not have answered even had she wished, for Peter had crushed her lips with his and their bodies were so close that their heartbeats were as one. Slowly, as if reluctantly, Peter released her and his eyes scrutinized her as if seeing her for the first time. “My darling, I love you so!” His voice was vibrant with emotion. “To think of all the time we’ve wasted...” He smiled his own quizzical smile. “And it was all due to that arrogance of yours!”

  “Peter Rupert, if you are trying to start a row...” But Kay wasn’t allowed to finish her threat, for once more Peter’s arms were round her and his lips on hers. Even as the setting sun on the hillside beyond the tall windows would rise again on the morrow, so was their love fulfilled in the passion of their embrace.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Kay put a finishing touch here and there to a bowl of flowers she had been arranging, then stood back to admire the effect. Just perfect, she decided, but felt she could hardly take much credit herself since with such heavenly blooms, and the lovely background of the room to set them off, they could hardly look anything but beautiful.

  Kay dried her hands on the corner of her frilled chintz apron, then seating herself on the edge of the armchair, stared round the room. She’d been living at ‘Chudleigh’ for a whole week now but somehow she felt she could never be wearied of its attraction, every moment seemed to afford some fresh delight, an unexpected view from a window or an ideal blending of colors in the house, changing with the vagaries of the sunlight. There was a sense of welcoming delight in ‘Chudleigh’ which she felt would never alter and even as she dusted, it was sheer delight to run her fingers over the smooth surface of the furniture, its wood mellowed with age. Relaxing as she sat, Kay let her head rest against the brocaded back of the chair and involuntarily her eyes closed. Could such happiness last? And as she asked herself the question, she knew full well the answer, nothing could ever come between Peter and herself. Their love and longing for one another had been latent for so long, now in its fulfilment, its roots lay deep and firm. Sometimes Kay’s happiness had been such as to hold a dreamlike quality and in the dark hours of the night she would stretch out her hand to touch Peter as he lay at her side, then, reassured, she would drop back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Sometimes during the day, as now, she would close her eyes for the sheer joy of opening them afresh to the blissful reality of her surroundings.

  It had all happened so quickly that it was scarcely surprising that Kay found it difficult to throw off a sense of unreality. Only a week or so earlier, she had been hunting for a job and her future had stretched ahead, a wearisome, unattractive future of deadly monotony. Kay still wondered how she could have deserved the joy which had come to her, such ecstasy as she had never believed possible. Her departure from hospital had been unnoticed, she had been grateful for that, all the necessary good wishes and farewells had already been given when she had left weeks before for her proposed marriage with Robin. Only Janet and Martin were taken into their confidence and were the sole two members of the staff present at her marriage to Peter. The ceremony had taken place at a little church at Staunford, just as she had always hoped, and apart from her mother and Christine, Penny and Robin, Janet and Martin, there had been few guests, and those the friendly village folk to whom the rumor of a wedding had spread and who made it a point never to miss such an event.

  It was still a source of amazement to Kay, how Peter had organized everything, she had often wondered how it felt to shelve responsibility, and now she knew! She still marvelled how he’d managed to think of everything, the transport of her mother and Christine by car so that they each might be spared exertion, the lovely bouquet in the car which picked her up at hospital to take her down to Staunford, with Janet and Martin as escorts. Perhaps the most thrilling of all was the box which awaited her when she arrived at ‘Hill Top’ to change! Janet had apparently been in the conspiracy and with her guidance Peter had chosen a complete bridal outfit. How different from the blue dress and hat! She had never wanted to see those again anyway, and they were still tucked away out of sight in her cupboard. The brown, close-fitting suit was the loveliest thing Kay had ever possessed and the three-quarter mink coat left her breathless.

  She and Peter had gone straight from the church at Staunford to a brief weekend honeymoon in Sussex, but Peter had no need to make excuses to Kay, she well understood and knew that his obligations would not allow of a longer holiday. It didn’t matter to Kay, nothing could mar the serenity those few halcyon days had given her, and she was quite satisfied to return to her future home. She had felt willing, in fact eager to take up the reins of housekeeping. True, Peter would be away all day in town, but she had the pleasure of looking forward to his return in the evenings, and Christine could bear her company during the day.

  Christine’s happiness too, was infectious and her merry laughter and shining eyes never failed to stir Kay, while her childish devotion warmed her heart.

  Kay started in the chair as the front bell rang. Hastily removing her apron, she walked across the softly carpeted hall to the door and threw it open. It was only the postman and as she held the letter in her hand, she stared uneasily at the address. “Mrs. Peter Raynal.” Suddenly she laughed softly. It was for her of course, it was actually the first time she had seen her name in writing.

  “Was it a visitor?” Christine, leaning somewhat perilously over the gallery, called to Kay.

  “No, darling, a letter.” Kay was slitting it open as she spoke. “I didn’t realize it was for me at first ... aren’t you coming down?”

  Christine came down the broad stairway and slipped an arm through Kay’s. “Exciting having letters, isn’t it? I adore them.”

  “It’s from Penny...” Kay spoke abstractedly as she perused the contents. “Wait a moment and I’ll tell you what it’s all about.” She walked slowly back to her seat in the lounge while still reading the letter, then, folding it up, turned her full attention again to Christine. “It’s an invitation to her wedding ... she and Robin are getting married next month.”

  “Oh, how exciting.” Christine clapped her hands together in delight. “Tell me some more, lots more, everything she says.”

  Kay laughed at Christine’s excitement and unfolding the sheet glanced through the letter again. It was such a happy effusion and so typical with just two lines about her coming marriage and the rest of the letter entirely devoted, in somewhat gruesome detail, to an apparently elaborate operation which Mr. Morgan had successfully performed on their prize sow. Kay smiled at her own thoughts. How wonderful this union would be of the two people who, each in their own way, meant so much to her. Penny would never change, she couldn’t, but then her very lack of convention was part of her charm. Kay wanted to laugh aloud at the postscript. “Can’t be bothered buying clothes, could I borrow that blue frock and hat of yours for my wedding?”

  “No more news of the farm or anything?” Christine persisted.

  The question roused Kay from her reverie. “We’ll read it together again later, but now I really must be getting on, you remember that your uncle said he might be bringing Janet and Martin down for the weekend.”

  “Oh, yes, so he did, I adore visitors!”

  “We must give them a lovely weekend because it’s the last one they’ll spend together for some time. You see they are engaged to be married but Mr. Grig is leaving St. Jude’s and going up to Scotland; when he has found a home there, Janet will join him.”

  Christine took up her customary position on a low needlework stool at Kay’s knee. “Another wedding, how lovely, and then they’ll live happily ever after, like you and Uncle?”

  “I hope so, darling,” Kay sighed but it was a sigh of sheer content as she let her hand rest idly on the golden
crown of Christine’s head. “I don’t think they could be happier than we are.”

  “I want to marry one day—someone like Uncle, I think he is a very nice husband.” The somewhat old-fashioned tone which Christine occasionally adopted, always made Kay smile.

  “He is.” She admitted laughingly. “But I don’t think you need start worrying yet. School is your next stage in life, young lady!”

  “But not a boarding school?” Christine twisted round to face Kay as she asked the question.

  “Of course not. I am making arrangements now; there is a day school about a mile away and I’m going to take you in by car every day and you will live here all the time.”

  “You angel!” Christine gave Kay’s knee an ecstatic squeeze. “That’s just what I’ve always wanted.”

  It is given to few to have all they want, but Kay wondered at that moment if Christine was not but echoing her own thoughts. She had all she wanted too, all she’d ever desired. “I really must be moving.” Kay made as if to rise. “You know we’ll have Uncle home and our guests arriving in about an hour and I don’t believe the dinner is on.” She spoke with urgency in an attempt to dismiss her dreams; she really must be practical and not waste precious time in idle thought, however intriguing those thoughts were.

  “Can’t Gertrude do the dinner?” Christine, disturbed by Kay’s rising, pulled herself to her feet.

  “She isn’t very experienced yet, she needs lots of help.” Kay cupped Christine’s face in her two hands and kissed it gently. “Why not go and pick some flowers for the spare room vases?”

  “All right, but I don’t know if they’ll look as nice as yours,” Christine admitted.

  Peter must have known instinctively that Kay would prefer to train her staff in her own way and the rosy-cheeked country girl whom he had engaged ready to receive Kay at ‘Chudleigh,’ was as willing to learn as Kay to teach.