by Neels, Betty
‘No, I haven’t,’ said Katherine joyfully, and beamed at him. ‘I’ll be glad to go.’
He studied her thoughtfully. ‘Yes, good. You and Mrs Potts will be fetched from her house after lunch today, and transport will be arranged for your return on Monday morning. Thank you, Katherine.’
It was cool dismissal. She said ‘Thank you, sir’ and looked at Sister. ‘You may go, Katherine.’ She was dismissed again, and got herself out of the office, not looking at the doctor at all, and went back to making beds. It was lovely to have her weekend so splendidly filled, but need he have been quite so remote in his manner? It was no good worrying about it; she fell to deciding what to wear...
The snow had turned to rain and there was a cold wind with it; she got away from the hospital punctually, and hurried back to her room, ate a quick meal of beans on toast and the inevitable pot of tea, and packed her night things. She got into the wool dress once more, and went to see how Mrs Potts was faring. She was dressed, ready to go, and Katherine helped her downstairs to sit in the kitchen, in the warm, while she fetched their cases. They didn’t have to wait long; Katherine went to open the door when the bell rang, and found the doctor on the doorstep.
His eyes swept over her neat person. ‘Ready? And Mrs Potts?’
When she nodded, he went into the kitchen and led Mrs Potts out to the car, stowing her into the back seat with the two dogs. The cases he put in the boot, then he urged Katherine to get in beside him and drove off without further ado.
He took the main road out of the city, but at Down-ton he turned off towards Cadnam and once there took the main road again to Brockenhurst. He had little to say as he drove and Katherine, happy just to be beside him, kept quiet. They were through Brockenhurst on the way to Beaulieu and Bucklers Hard before he remarked, ‘You’ll doubtless find the cottage well-stocked with food. There’s central heating, and fires, and someone will have been in to keep it tidy and make up the beds and so on. I don’t expect you to be with Mrs Potts every minute of the day—take time off for a walk—you look as though you could do with some fresh sea air. There’s a nice little pub close by, and the cottage is the end one in a row, so you don’t need to be lonely. Don’t let Mrs Potts go out in this weather, but I’d like her to potter around the house a bit. By the end of the week she should be pretty fit’
She said meekly, ‘Yes, sir,’ and gave a surprised start when he growled, ‘Don’t call me sir, Katie.’ Then, in a quite different voice, he asked, ‘Have you given any more thought to marrying me?’
She had to admit silently that one way or another she had thought of exceedingly little else, but all she said, in a collected voice, was, ‘I do wonder why you keep on about it.’
‘Ah, that is at least a step in the right direction. What a pity that we have no more time in which to discuss the matter thoroughly.’
He had turned into the broad roadway leading to the quay and Beaulieu river. There were cottages on either side of it, and a hotel at the very end. He stopped at the last cottage on the opposite side and said, ‘Stay there a moment while I open up,’ and got out of the car to cross the narrow strip of grass and unlock the door. There was no garden at the front, but the cottage was solidly built of red brick, its paintwork fresh and its small windows gleaming. Even in the dull light of a January afternoon it looked inviting. Katherine jumped out when he opened her door, possessed herself of Mrs Potts’ various scarves, rugs and handbag, and followed the doctor and her landlady into the cottage.
The doctor switched on a light once they were in- side, revealing a small, square hallway with a door on either side and a staircase facing them. The doctor opened a door and ushered them into a low-ceilinged room with windows at either end. There was a bright fire burning in the small grate, and the furniture was exactly right: comfortable chairs and small, antique pieces arranged on a dark red carpet, matching the red and cream chintz curtains. ‘I’ll get your cases,’ he said. ‘We might have tea before I go back; the kitchen is through the door.’ He nodded towards a small door at the far end of the room, and Katherine, taking the hint for the wish, sat Mrs Potts down and went to investigate. There was a tray already set for tea, with a large cake beside it and a dish of scones as well. There was cream too, and a pot of jam, so it only remained to put the kettle on. She went back to Mrs Potts, helped that lady to remove her coat and wraps, and then fetched the tray and set it on the round table in one corner of the room. She just had time to take off her own outdoor things before the doctor, with the dogs at his heels, came back with their cases. He went straight upstairs with them, which gave her time to light the gas under the kettle and find a bowl for the dogs to have a drink. He tossed his coat on to a chair and followed her into the kitchen.
‘There’s no back door,’ he told her. ‘I’ll make sure that the heating is OK before I go. There should be plenty of hot water, and the bedrooms are warm. If you get into any difficulties, go across to the hotel and ask for the landlord.’
He watched her warm the pot and then spoon in the tea. ‘You look just right here—I thought you would.’ Before she could think of an answer to that, he had gone back into the sitting-room, and when she went in he was sitting by Mrs Potts, giving her last-minute instructions as to what she might and might not do.
Tea was a pleasant meal; the doctor showed no signs of hurry on his part, and it was well past five o’clock when he got up to go. Katherine went with him to the door, reluctant to see the last of him.
‘It’s getting dark, so drive carefully,’ she cautioned him.
‘You sound exactly like a wife,’ he observed, ‘so I feel quite justified in behaving like a husband.’ He swooped down, scooped her into his arms and kissed her once, very hard. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning.’
He got into the car and drove off. Although she was in the doorway watching, he didn’t look round or wave. She went back indoors and cleared away the tea things, and then she accompanied Mrs Potts upstairs.
There were three bedrooms, two in the front of the house, which she and Mrs Potts were to occupy and a third beside a splendidly fitted bathroom across the landing. Katherine unpacked for them both, turned down the beds and drew the curtains and, with Mrs Potts in tow, went downstairs again.
Mrs Potts was tired, and Katherine suggested an early supper. ‘You sit down for a while and I’ll see what there is in the fridge,’ she suggested, and went back into the kitchen.
Someone had catered very nicely for their needs; there was a casserole to be warmed up, potatoes already peeled and fruit and custard in a bowl. Katherine found a cloth and cutlery, and arranged the table; while the food cooked, she went to look at the room on the other side of the hall. The dining-room— with a mahogany table at its centre, with four chairs and a small side table. There was a long case clock in one corner, and some charming watercolours on the striped wallpaper. It really was a dear little house, she decided; just the place to come for a quiet weekend. And in the summer one could sail...
‘Does the doctor come here often?’ she asked.
‘Quite a bit, my sister says; likes to get away when he’s been busy at the hospital—he’s got a boat too. Likes to sail for as much of the year as possible. Of course, Miss Dodie can’t bear it here, says it’s too quiet for her. Thinks she can twist him round her little finger, but she’s wrong there.’ She cast a quick look at Katherine. ‘He’s a good man, too good for her, though I say it as shouldn’t.’
Katherine agreed quietly; he was a good man and a splendid doctor—also, he knew how to kiss a girl! Still glowing from it, she reflected that on no account must he do it again, it was too unsettling. Even if she hadn’t been in love with him, it would have shaken her; as it was, she wasn’t sure if she was on her head or her heels!
There was no point in dwelling upon that; she set- tied Mrs Potts by the fire with a glass of the port the doctor had said she must have each evening, and went to the kitchen to cast an eye over the casserole.
They went
to bed really early, for Mrs Potts was tired out and, although there was television to watch, Katherine felt lonely sitting by herself. Saturday passed quietly, and Katherine didn’t like to leave Mrs Potts alone. But by Sunday, she had regained some of her energy. The rain had ceased in the morning, and the wind had died down. Katherine tidied the little cottage, took Mrs Potts her breakfast in bed and, later, once she had helped her downstairs to sit by the fire, she got into her coat and headscarf and went for a brisk walk before lunch.
The fridge was still well stocked; she popped a small chicken into the oven, peeled potatoes and cleaned sprouts, and then went to keep Mrs Potts company.
‘Ever so awkward, it’s been,’ averred Mrs Potts, ‘me being ill like this. And everyone’s been so kind, I’m that grateful.’ She sounded almost tearful, so Katherine was constrained to nip across the street and buy a Sunday paper. They shared it between them while the chicken roasted, and presently, when they had eaten it, she tucked Mrs Potts up in her bed for a nap and went to sit by the fire and dream. A useless occupation, she reminded herself as the afternoon dimmed into a rainy evening, and she washed up the dinner things, then made tea and went to fetch a much refreshed Mrs Potts.
They watched television in the evening, and after supper Mrs Potts went to bed. ‘A whole week of this,’ she commented blissfully. ‘I feel better already. I’m ever so grateful to you, my dear, putting yourself out like this.’
‘I’ve not been put out at all,’ protested Katherine, ‘I’m enjoying it just as much as you are. This is a super little cottage.’ She tucked Mrs Potts into her bed. ‘I’ll bring you a cup of tea in the morning, but if you need anything in the night, just give me a call.’
The rain had stopped in the morning, leaving a pale, washed-out sky, and sunshine which held no warmth, although it turned the river and the fields into delicate pastel tints. It was cold, too. Katherine cleared away the ashes in the sitting-room, lit another fire, tidied the cottage, and, since she didn’t know exactly when she was to be fetched, put a coffee tray ready. She made sure that Mrs Potts was cosily settled by the hearth, and then went briskly down to the river for a last look. She didn’t stay long, there was still lunch to prepare for whoever was corning to take her place. The lunch was well in hand when the cottage door opened and the doctor came in, followed by Daphne—whom Katherine had first met at his house, helping with the supper, on New Year’s Eve.
If Katherine had been hoping for a leisurely hour drinking coffee and chatting with him, she was disappointed; he drank his coffee, certainly, but beyond examining Mrs Potts and declaring that she was looking better already, and asking in a brisk manner if there were any problems with the running of the cottage, he had almost nothing to say beyond begging Katherine to be as quick as possible since he had an appointment at noon.
A remark which sent her, with a scalded tongue from the coffee, running upstairs to get her case. When she got downstairs again, rather pink in the face, he observed belatedly, ‘I’m sorry to hurry you, Katherine.’
She eyed him coldly. ‘Think nothing of it Dr Fitzroy. Hurrying from here to there is becoming second nature to me.’ And, at his raised eyebrows, ‘On the ward, you know.’
In the car, going smoothly along the narrow road to Beaulieu, the doctor said with deceptive blandness, ‘You’re annoyed?’
‘Annoyed? Me?’ She ignored her companion’s gentle correction to T. ‘Why should I be?’
‘I’m treating you like a hired help...?’ the doctor said, as they picked up speed, for the road had widened once they had passed the park gates.
‘But I am a hired help,’ Katherine pointed out. Usually a mild-tempered and reasonable girl, she felt decidedly snappy.
‘But not quite in the mood to consider a proposal of marriage?’
‘Certainly not.’ She wasn’t sure whether to burst out laughing or crying.
‘Ah, well, another time.’ He sounded positively placid.
‘I’m getting tired...’ began Katherine crossly.
‘Indeed? And so am I, but tiredness was never a good reason for giving up, you know.’
He was deliberately misunderstanding her; she stared out at the busy main street of Brockenhurst and said nothing.
When he spoke again, it was to comment lightly about the weather—the chance of more snow, the prospect of an early spring. She answered him at random, only half Ustening, her thoughts in a fine muddle.
He left her at Mrs Potts’ front door and drove off at once with the briefest of goodbyes. She went to her room to eat a hasty snack lunch before going to the hospital.
It was nice to find that Sister had a day off, and that Andy was on duty, too. Katherine was immediately immersed in her mundane duties, which, without Sister breathing down her neck, she found pleasant enough. The patients, aware that there was a certain relaxed air on the ward, called across to each other’s beds and joked with the nurses, offering sweets and, when it was time to go off duty, proffering their newspapers.
Katherine, back at Mrs Potts’, ate the supper waiting for her and repaired to her room to undress, scamper down to the bathroom and then get into bed with a mug of tea and the selection of papers thrust upon her when she had left the ward. She read them from cover to cover, not taking in a word, while she speculated as to what the doctor might be doing. Being very much in love, and having a lively imagination, she pictured him in some softly lit restaurant, dining with Dodie. Or perhaps the girl was at his house, sit- ting by his fireside, looking prettier than ever in the firelight.
She was not to know that he was still in the hospital, using all his skill to keep alive a young man who had had a massive coronary.
He certainly wasn’t thinking of Dodie, nor for that matter of Katherine. Only when he got home at last, and he had eaten the solitary meal waiting for him, did he sit down beside his fire, the dogs at his feet, and allow his thoughts to wander. And they were all of Katherine.
Katherine didn’t see him for some days, and then only at a distance, going in or out of the hospital or on the stairs or going along a corridor. And each time she took good care to avoid coming face to face with him.
She had been working when he had brought Mrs Potts back, and she returned one evening to find that lady installed in her kitchen once more, almost as good as new, and anxious to take up the reins of the household again. The talk, naturally enough, was of her week at Bucklers Hard, the comfort of the cottage and the kindness of the doctor, and she constantly referred to Katherine for confirmation of this. ‘Kindness itself, wasn’t he, Katherine? Driving us there and then fetching you back again, and then coming for me himself, and him such a busy man.’
To all of which Katherine agreed in her quiet voice; he was everything Mrs Potts declared him to be, and he was as distant from her as the stars.
She was on duty at twelve o’clock the following day, and she was met by an intrigued Andy. ‘I say,’ she began the moment Katherine was on the ward, ‘what luck Sister’s off duty! You’ve had a phone call—can you beat it? He was very disappointed that he couldn’t speak to you, but he gave me a message. Would you meet him at Snell’s for coffee in the morning at half-past ten? He asked when you were off duty, and so I told him. Hope that was OK?’
Edward, back for a few days’ leave, thought Katherine; he had promised to let her know when he was back in Salisbury. ‘Thanks, Andy, but I must tell him not to phone the ward. What a blessing Sister wasn’t here!’
They giggled about it together as they made beds ready for the evening and then went to collect the tea trays. It would be nice to see him again, reflected Katherine. He was good-natured and cheerful and easy-going.
She got to Snell’s punctually, her shopping basket over her arm, having prudently done her errands on the way to the café; Edward was a great talker, and she would have to hurry back to get her lunch before going on duty.
Snell’s was full, she stood in the doorway, scanning the tables, and presently saw her caller, only it wasn’t Ed
ward, whom she’d expected to see, it was her brother, standing up and beckoning her to join him.
She calmed her breath and sat down opposite him. ‘Did you telephone the hospital?’ she asked. There was no point in greeting him, for he showed no sign of pleasure at seeing her.
‘I did. And if you want to know how I discovered where you were hiding, Mrs Todd saw you a couple of days ago when she visited her daughter.’
‘I wasn’t hiding...’
‘Well, now we know where you are. You must come back, Katherine. Joyce isn’t at all well, and the children are too much for her. The least you can do is show some gratitude and repay our kindness.’
She stared at him; he was, if that were possible, more pompous than ever, and his voice was louder and more hectoring.
She said quietly, ‘Sorry, Henry, but I’m not coming back. I owe you nothing, and if Joyce isn’t well you can afford to get proper help. I have a good job, I’m paid for it and I like my work.’ She broke off as a waitress enquired if they would like coffee, and Henry gave a grudging order.
He goggled at her. ‘Do you mean to say that you refuse to help your own flesh and blood?’
‘That’s right, Henry.’ She sipped her coffee and he fell silent, bereft of words. ‘Is that your last word?’
‘Yes, Henry.’ She sat composedly watching him and finishing her coffee.
He got up abruptly. ‘Then there is no more to be said. Joyce will be bitterly disappointed...’
‘So I should imagine.’ She put out a hand and caught his coat by the sleeve. ‘Henry, you are forgetting—the bill...’
His glare should have annihilated her, but quite failed to do so. He took the bill from the waitress and stalked off to pay it.
Reaction set in when he had gone; Katherine found herself shaking with rage. Her new-found freedom had been, for the moment at least, shattered. There was nothing more he could do, but it had left an unpleasant blot on her day. She had another cup of coffee and pulled herself together, then went back to her room to get her lunch.