by Rebecca Shaw
“You seem happier. More relaxed.”
Duncan thought over what she had said. “I’m trying to be more considerate. To you. After my run-in with Miriam, I saw the error of my ways.”
“Ah! You did?”
“Why the hell should you care about me? When ever do I do anything at all to deserve you? Never. So I decided to be more . . . attentive.” He gave her a wry grin. “It’s hard, unaccustomed work for me, but I am giving it a whirl.”
“I’m glad. It’s been an uphill struggle.”
Almost too casually Duncan asked, “How’s Mungo today?”
Joy jumped guiltily. “Mungo? Why do you mention him?”
“I can see that look in your eyes that consigns me to the wilderness. It’s very hard to bear, Joy, and hasn’t helped at all. I’m so jealous of that man.”
Ashamed, Joy said, “However I might feel, you can rest assured that nothing, absolutely nothing, will separate Mungo from Miriam, believe me. The battle is with myself and myself alone. Most of the time, ninety-five percent of the time, he’s just someone I work with and then something happens and the balloon goes up. It’s time I packed it in.”
“Your job, you mean?”
“No, not my job, I couldn’t do that; I love it too much. No, letting Mungo stir me up. I’m a sentimental old idiot at bottom and I’ve got to put a stop to it. The trouble has been that you didn’t make any effort to redress the balance, if you see what I mean. Slowly but surely I’ve become your housekeeper and that’s not what I want, but it’s what I’ve got. You gave me nothing here, so I’ve clung to what remained of Mungo, but if I look it squarely in the eye, nothing remains except a good working relationship built up over a lot of years.”
There was a long silence while Duncan made sense of what she’d said. He sipped his wine, finished his pudding, stared out of the window and finally said, “I’ve loved you since the day we met, but my feelings have been strangled by yours for Mungo. I can understand how it came about. He is a most adorable man, but you weren’t even fair to me when we married, were you?”
His question hung heavy in the air like some kind of overpowering incense that even opening a window would not disperse. Joy lifted her head and stared straight into his eyes. “After all these years, what makes you come out with that right now?”
“My own self-searching. I’m guilty too. My cramped emotions haven’t helped. You’re right about my offering you nothing to keep you. As you said, that damned computer is to blame. But you’re not being fair to Miriam either. Does she know how you feel? Have you ever told her?”
Joy was appalled by his question. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of breaking her heart by telling her. That’s a dreadful, terrible thought.”
“She’s very perceptive. Maybe she’s realized; picked up on that special smile you have for him?”
Joy flushed with horror at his question. “What special smile?”
“Well, you can’t see your own smile but even a congenital idiot could. I bet the staff at the practice have guessed.”
The possibility that they might have guessed was too dreadful for Joy to contemplate. Did they all know and were amused behind her back? Talking about it? Contemplating her chances? Oh God! No! Of course not. He was saying it to upset her. She’d never given away her secret, not by so much as a touch or a look. Of course they didn’t know.
“Go on, be honest, Joy. Haven’t you ever wished he was me when we used to make love?”
There was that cold, analytical tone in his voice, the one which probed without emotion or thought for his victim. But his eyes told a different story: they were pleading for reassurance. If she lied, would he guess? What if she told the truth?
She chose her words slowly and carefully. “Honesty being your watchword, there were times to begin with when, yes, I wished you were Mungo. Just sometimes. Not for a long time, though. But I’m bound to you by something invisible. There’s no escape. I couldn’t be without you and I don’t know why . . . if that’s any help.”
“And me to you. I’m bound by I know not what. Maybe it’s a passionate love we’ve both of us smothered with neglect. Since we are coming out in the open about ourselves, how about telling Miriam? You might be cleansed of him then.”
“I can’t do that. I couldn’t! I couldn’t stay at the practice if I did. For heaven’s sake.”
“In that case, then, maybe the more straightforward thing to do would be to give your notice.”
“Is this an ultimatum of some kind?”
Duncan didn’t answer immediately. When he did, he simply said, “Just testing.” He got up from his chair and went to stand at her side. His mood had changed as quickly, as if he’d flicked a switch. She looked up at him and scrutinized the somber face with its deep-set eyes and sad, gentle mouth. With more desire than she had experienced in an age, she wanted him to kiss her.
“Taken slowly in small doses, one step at a time, there’s hope for us, isn’t there?” For the second time that day her chin was cupped in a man’s hand. Briefly he touched her mouth with his.
“Oh yes!” And suddenly she felt there was. She took his hand from her face, kissed the back of it and pressed it to her cheek. “Let’s sit in front of the fire. Leave the table for now.”
They both moved to sit in the easy chairs before the fire. They were silent for a while, each running over in his and her own mind the conversation they’d just had. Then, out of the blue, he said, “Met a chap today. Strange chap.”
In the silence that followed, Joy said, “That’ll make two.”
“Yes, but I’m not weird.”
“What was he doing?”
“Walking and, like me, trying to make sense of things. He’s barmy, if you ask me.”
“Tell me.”
Joy put another log on the fire and settled herself to listen. Duncan, eyes half closed, remembered his meeting with the man.
THERE’D been at least another mile to go before he would reach the summit and he’d decided to find somewhere out of the wind to sit to eat the bread he’d brought with him. He could never be bothered with making fancy sandwiches, so he’d picked out a roll from the freezer and a lump of cheese from the fridge and chosen one of those Cornice pears he loved out of the fruit bowl. He knew that by the time he was ready to eat, the roll would have defrosted and be fresh and soft and rich smelling, just how he liked them. He’d taken a couple of bites from it when a man came into view wearing, for some curious reason, a second-rate business suit and nice shoes, with a beige-colored anorak to keep out the cold. He hesitated, watching Duncan from where he stood on the sheep track. Duncan saw the twitch he had in his cheek and thought, Here we go; a nutter of the first order.
Having resolved his computer problem, he had room to feel full of concern for mankind, so he shifted along the boulder he was sitting on and invited the chap to take a pew. “You can share my roll and cheese if you wish.”
The man patted the pocket of his anorak and said, “Got my own.” But he accepted the invitation to sit beside Duncan and the two of them sat in total silence, eating their lunches and enjoying the view.
When Duncan pulled a can of beer from his pocket, the chap looked at it enviously. Duncan offered it to him. “Have a drink; you’re most welcome.”
But he rejected the offer, so Duncan, never one to make the effort to persuade people against their wishes, emptied the can himself.
“I prefer lager.”
Duncan wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’m a beer man myself.”
“I see.”
They sat a further while in silence, looking at the view, each wrapped in his own thoughts. Eventually Duncan said, “I’m heading for the top. Coming?”
The chap shook his head. “I’ve never reached the top, never had the courage.”
“What’s courage to do with it? It’s a simple matter of putting one foot in front of the other.”
The chap stood there, trying to make up his mind. “I suppo
se it is. Do you mind?”
“I did ask you.”
“Right. I will. You lead on.” He crumpled the wrappers from his lunch and was about to stuff them into a crevice of the boulder when he saw Duncan carefully storing his empty lunch bag and beer can in his jacket pocket. So he did the same.
They strode up the rest of the way, following a sheep track, and when they reached the top, Duncan went to his favorite sheltered spot to rest. It was only a small dip alongside the track, but it kept the worst of the wind off and he liked the idea that in the depths of the night sheep would be huddled here. It made him feel at one with them. The two of them found it rather a squash but Duncan, being so at peace with the world, had not minded.
“Married, are you?” the chap had asked almost immediately.
“I am.”
“I live with my mother.”
“Cramps your style, doesn’t she?”
The chap shook his head. “Haven’t got any style to cramp.”
“You should have, a chap your age.”
“Your mother. Did she cramp your style?”
“My mother scarcely noticed I existed. The occasional pat on the head for doing well at school constituted the extent of her sortie into parenthood.”
The chap thought about this and observed, “That’s better than being smothered like me. Are you out of work? I just wondered with you being about during the day.”
“I’m a computer programmer and I work at home. I’ve just finished a big project, so I’m free for a few weeks.”
“I see. Do you come every day?”
“I shall for two or three weeks till the next project.”
“I might see you, then.” His cheek twitched furiously and his head jerked in tune with it. “Would you mind?”
Duncan did mind, but he could see the chap’s need. “Not at all. Look out for me.” Duncan watched him walk away down the hill, shoulders bent, hesitant, jerky, twitching, and thought, Poor devil.
“SO that was all that happened and I expect I’m stuck with him for the next few weeks.”
Joy asked, “Did he tell you his name?”
“No. Didn’t seem like that kind of a relationship.”
“He sounds in need of someone to talk to.”
“Aren’t we all?” Duncan slid from his chair and hitched himself along the floor till he reached Joy. He rested his back against her legs and she set about putting his untidy hair to rights. “We all need someone.”
Joy left her hand resting on his head and stared into the fire. “We do.”
“We’ll give the cinema the elbow, shall we?”
“I’d forgotten.”
“Getting too late anyway. Do you mind?”
“No. We can always go tomorrow night if there’s anything decent on.”
Induced by the good food and the warmth of the fire, Joy and Duncan sat there for more than an hour enjoying each other’s company. Halfway through, Tiger came in to investigate their silence and chose to climb on Duncan’s legs, planning to tease him into playing with her, but she, too, succumbed to the warmth and the quiet between them and eventually gave up persuading him to play when she fell off his legs onto the carpet, going to sleep beside him with his hand caressing her ears. It was the first evening for a long time that the house had been so at peace with itself.
THE next day it seemed that peace had been restored at the practice too and Joy was looking forward to a busy, enjoyable day. Bunty had returned, apparently determined to ignore her upset of the previous day; Graham and Valentine were in the consulting rooms; Zoe and Scott out visiting the farms; Lynne was covering reception with help from Kate, who was doing the accounts as and when the pressure lessened on reception. Mungo had several clients coming that morning and Joy herself was going to tackle the roster for November.
She’d settled at her desk with everyone’s holiday requests lined up at the side of her computer, focusing her mind on her task, when she heard the sound of argument. Her head came up and she listened hard. Lynne’s voice was strident and uncompromising. Kate’s voice placatory. What was that Lynne said? “. . . too bossy by half . . .”
She couldn’t hear Kate’s reply, but there again came Lynne’s voice, raised even higher: “You’re not telling me what to do. You’ve a long way to go before you know this job as well as I do, so you can pipe down.”
Joy could hear the tone of Kate’s voice but not distinguish the words.
There was Lynne again, shooting her mouth off: “Miss Perfect, are we? Little white hen that never lays away. Huh!”
Joy shot out of her office and into reception, ready for action. Between clenched teeth and sotto voce she said, “What is the matter? I can hear you in my office. Have some consideration for the clients; they can hear every word. This is disgraceful.”
Neither Lynne nor Kate answered her.
“Well, I’m waiting.” One of the phones rang, but the two girls were too busy glaring at each other to answer it. Joy dealt with the problem, answering the telephone as though nothing were amiss, changed someone’s appointment on the computer and then turned to them again. “Well, I’m still waiting.”
Lynne decided to get in first with her side of the story. “Kate has sent Zoe halfway across the county to an emergency when Scott is only four miles away and could easily have gone on his way to his next call. I told her she shouldn’t have and she told me to mind my own business.” Lynne pointed to herself, continuing, “I’ve been here long enough to know what I’m doing. She comes and thinks she knows it all in five minutes. Well, she doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything.”
Joy turned to Kate. “Well?”
“Scott especially asked to be given plenty of time at his next call. The farmer’s really been kicking up a stink about things and saying he’s thinking of moving to another practice if they don’t improve, so I thought it best, seeing as he has such a full list today, that he stick to his schedule, and Zoe, who’s cutting down on her number of calls because of the baby, could fit this emergency in quite easily. That’s all.”
“I see. Lynne does have a point.”
“I most certainly do. That Scott thinks he’s indispensable and she”—pointing at Kate—“favors him no end. It’s ridiculous. Scott this. Scott that.”
“That’s not true.”
“And if we’re really getting down to the nitty-gritty, who’s she anyway? With her A levels and that, she thinks herself something very special. Oh yes! But look at the mistakes she’s made . . . that money, for starters.”
Joy pricked up her ears at this. “What money?”
“Miss Chillingsworth’s.”
The moment she said it, Lynne appeared to regret it and Joy picked up on that. “What about that money?”
“She lost it, didn’t she?”
“Well, she didn’t actually lose it. It turned up.”
“Careless, though, wasn’t she? Not quite part of the goody-goody image, that kind of mistake.”
“Lynne, I get the distinct feeling you know something you haven’t told me. Do you know where the money disappeared to and how it came to materialize again? Because if you do, you’d better come clean right now. Kate, stay here. Lynne, my office.” Joy jerked her head toward the back. Lynne hesitated for a moment, then followed but not before she’d deliberately trodden on Kate’s foot as she squeezed past.
Joy, who knew her staff and was a past master at dealing with difficult ones, had the truth out of Lynne in the sweetest, kindest way before they’d been in the office five minutes. “So you took it, hid it, put it back when I read the riot act, all for what?”
Lynne avoided looking her in the eye. Instead, she stared out of the window. “She really gets my back up. Too clever for her own good, she is. What’s more, she was very rude to my brothers. Oxford graduates, they are, with top jobs in the City, but it made no difference to her. She told them off. I mean! Who does she think she is?”
“Did they deserve it?”
“No. Well, ye
s, perhaps they did. So I saw what had happened, that she’d forgotten Miss Chillingsworth’s money, and I thought I’d teach her a lesson. I wasn’t going to keep it, you know, I wasn’t stealing.”
“I never for one moment thought you were. I shall overlook the incident this time, but if ever anything of this nature occurs again and you are involved, then . . .” Joy drew her forefinger across her throat and made a strangulated sound. “As you know, I always mean what I say and I would not hesitate to give you the sack immediately, on the spot, with no time even to collect your belongings. Kate is a good worker and with all the sickness and whatever we’ve had recently, I don’t know where we would have been without her. You’re a good worker too. None better. You’re quick, polite and helpful to the clients, pleasant to work with and that’s how Kate is too. That’s how I run this practice, with happy, hardworking people who get on well with one another and who put the clients and their pets first. As for those brothers of yours, they are only human beings after all.”
“If you were in my shoes, you’d have been taught they were gods. Public school and university for them; comprehensive for me because it wasn’t worth educating me and that’s how it’s been all my life.”
Joy smiled at her. “Then it shouldn’t have been. Lynne Seymour is worth her weight in gold. Off you go and send Kate to me, please.”
Before she opened the door Lynne, not quite sure how she’d finished up apologizing, said, “I’m very sorry. Thanks. It won’t happen again.”
“Of course not.”
Joy had made up her mind while she’d been talking to Lynne that she’d ask Kate outright why she was working there. Lynne was absolutely right: Kate was out of place as a receptionist and Joy had always known that, but hadn’t faced up to it until now.
“Sit down, Kate. I’ve had a word with Lynne and she’s apologized and said she hid the money out of spite to get back at you. Her reason being that you’d been rude to her brothers, but more so because you were too clever for your own good. Her words, not mine. Which I’ve always known you were. So the question I have to ask is why are you here?” Joy had no intention of letting her leave the office until she had a satisfactory answer, so she sat with arms folded, waiting.