“Jeremy,” I said slowly, trying to frame my words as kindly as I could. “I can’t tell you how - touched I am. It’s a great - well, honour is the only word I can think of - to be asked to marry someone. But there are a lot of things to be taken into consideration -”
“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about, Pippa! I mean, about money or anything. I’ve got the farm, and it brings in a very good income already - and when I’m managing it myself, it’ll make lots more, I promise you, and you’ll have everything you could possibly want -”
I had to laugh then, but very gently. “Dear Jeremy, that’s the least of the considerations as far as I’m concerned. I’m thinking of far more basic things. Like the fact I’m almost six years older than you are -”
“Oh, Pippa, what does that matter? I was afraid you’d say something like that, but honestly, it just doesn’t matter! I’m not a baby, you know. I’m a grown man, however young I may seem. The way I feel about you - nothing could be more - more adult than that -” and he leaned forwards again as though to take hold of me.
“No, Jeremy,” I said firmly, pushing him back on his heels. “No. And of course, you’re right. If people love each other, age doesn’t come into it, any more than finance does. But the really basic thing is that - and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Jeremy, truly I don’t - the really important thing is that much as I like you as a person, I don’t love you and I never could. And that’s all there is to it.”
There was a long silence. Jeremy looked up at me, his face suddenly white in the flickering firelight, and as I looked down at him my heart contracted a little. How would I feel if I were rejected as cruelly as that, offered no hope at all of having the love I wanted so desperately as this boy seemed to want mine? How would I behave?
The way Jeremy behaved startled me, and made me respect him, too, for it was very adult, very - sophisticated even.
He smiled, a crooked painful smile, but a smile for all that. Then he spoke in a rather hoarse voice.
“Fair enough. Better to know now than go on hopefully hanging my heart out to dry - only to get it thrown back in the end. Thank you for your - honesty, Pippa. May I go on calling you that? And may we go on being friends? I wouldn’t want to lose sight of you altogether, even if you don’t want me - or my farm.” And he tried to smile even more widely and I could have wept for his courage.
“Of course we shall,” I said softly. “Of course we shall. I promise to forget this ever happened - that you ever said anything at all. And then we can go on as we always have -”
“Pippa -” He leaned forwards and took my shoulders in his hands again. “Pippa. Just one thing. I’ve thought - oh, so often, I’ve thought about how much I’ve wanted to kiss you. Just once. Please, Pippa? To - remember what might have been? Something to hold on to whenever I have to face the fact you don’t want me?”
I looked at him, at his smooth young face so close to mine and I thought - poor Jeremy. Lucky Jeremy too, because one day a girl will love you as much as you deserve, and then you’ll know what love is really all about. Why not let him kiss me, just this once, as he asks? No harm - for it will mean nothing to me and please him.
And I smiled a little and put up my face and he dropped his head and let his hard young mouth brush mine. It was a sweet and tender kiss, brotherly, as far as I was concerned.
And then the overhead light snapped on, as someone came into the room, and I turned sharply, to look, feeling rather foolish. Max was standing at the door, and his face held its sardonic twist, a look that was becoming painfully familiar to me.
“Dear me!” he said dryly. “I seem to have interrupted an idyll. Do forgive me, both of you! I came to tell Dr Fenwick that her dermatologist is downstairs asking for her,” and the scorn he put into the word dermatologist was slight, but there all the same.
“You’ll have to take your place in the queue, won’t you, young Redmond? Hard luck!” and he turned and went.
I jumped to my feet, my face flaming with anger and chagrin for myself, and embarrassment on Jeremy’s behalf. But he, oddly, didn’t seem to mind. He had a look on his face that was surprisingly contented, and he smiled at me as I turned back to him and opened my mouth to speak.
“No, don’t, Pippa. Don’t say a word. I’m going now - I’ll take the kitchen stairs, so as not to bump into your - friend. And I’ll never say a word about this again, and I wish you oh, everything you wish yourself. And thank you.”
And he bent his head and brushed my forehead with his lips, and then turned and went out through the door that led to the dining-room and thence to the kitchen, on his way to the back door.
And I turned and made my way to the main staircase of Downlands in a whirl of emotion. Twice in the same day I had been seen by someone in a different man’s arms. Had it been the same someone? Had it been Max who had seen me with Peter? In a way I hoped so - for he cared so little about me as a person that he would do nothing about it. If it had been Barbara Moon, on the other hand, or even Judith who had seen me with Peter, what might happen because of it?
But I pushed these thoughts away. The important thing now was that Charles was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, and I ran down them like a bird.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He was standing with his back to the fire, his long elegant legs in their slender black trousers braced widely, his hands in his pockets. He looked so superb, standing there with his head high as he surveyed the hall of Downlands, that I stood breathlessly at the top of the stairs, just looking down at him, taking in the sheer marvellousness of seeing him again, and feeling my heart give the old familiar lurch.
He raised his eyes and saw me, and without otherwise moving, let his lips spread into a wide smile.
“So, there you are, my dear! Such a charming house, this! I had no idea you were living in such delightful surroundings. A dour character in tweeds grunted at me to wait here for you and then disappeared” - he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the stairs - “I suppose he told you?”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to let my pleasure show too much. “That was Max Lester - one of the partners. It is good to see you, Charle -”
“And better still to see you,” and he leaned across and kissed my forehead. And the way that made me feel, compared with how I’d felt when young Jeremy had done the same thing, beggars description.
“Country life would appear to suit you! You’ve a new colour in your cheeks - and you’re a shade plumper - but pleasantly so, I promise you. You were looking frail enough to snap over one’s knee when you left town! We must try to keep that fresh look about you even after you come back to the metropolis!”
“Come back?” I laughed and led the way to a sofa. Charles came and sat beside me, and leaned back in his corner, looking quizzically at me. “It will be a long time before I do that, Charles! I told you - I’m staying here until young David qualifies - and after that, maybe -”
“Are you?” he said and laughed. “I’m thinking perhaps you may be back in town before you expected. I’m hoping so anyway. There - there is something I want to talk to you about - very much indeed. That’s why I’m here, you know! Not just to breathe country air for a couple of days, but to talk to you - very seriously.”
I turned my head and looked at him, and suddenly my breath came thickly in my throat, and my mouth went dry, and when I spoke I could hardly recognize my own voice, it seemed to come from such a distance away, and seemed so husky. But it must have sounded normal enough to Charles, for he didn’t seem at all surprised by my reaction.
“Really, Charles?” was what I managed to say. “That sounds very mysterious - but interesting too. What is this - something?”
He chuckled. “A plan. A project. A new way of life for you! But I refuse - flatly refuse to talk about it here. We need surroundings even pleasanter than this, and I know just the place. Spotted it as I drove towards the town, made sure it was in the Good Food Guide - which it turned out to be - and book
ed a table. The Black Swan and Cygnet it shall be. Glorious twentieth-century food and wine in a sixteenth-century hostelry! What could possibly be nicer, hmm? Go and get your wrapper on, my child, and we’ll away to a splendid dinner.”
And with my head whirling, I ran quickly upstairs and collected my black cloth coat and red bag and gloves, before hurrying along the corridor to tell Judith that we would be dining out.
She was busy bathing Emma, and just smiled beautifully at me and told me to have fun before returning her attention to the wriggling pinkness on her lap.
“He does care for me, he does!” I whispered to my reflection in the mirror at the top of the stairs where I stopped to check on my hair before rejoining Charles. “That must be what he means about plans, and going back to town. Married to Charles - of all the things in the world I want, it’s that - and that’s what he is going to ask me to do!”
And then I turned and with a composure I was far from feeling went down to where Charles was waiting for me at the front door.
He handed me into his big grey car - a Jaguar - with an old-fashioned courtesy that made a wonderful change from the way the other men treated me - Peter’s easy camaraderie, and Max’s brusqueness - and I settled into its leather-upholstered comfort with a luxurious sigh.
“Makes a change from country rattle traps, hmm?” Charles said as he got in beside me, and started the engine purring. “I make no pretence of liking the simple life. For me, comfort plus is the order of the day. I enjoy money and the things it can provide and I maintain that people who don’t say the same thing are liars or fools!” and he laughed.
And I had to agree with him. Sitting in the quiet comfort of the big car, as he manoeuvred it through Tetherdown’s quiet streets, and out and beyond on to the bypass that led in turn to the country road where the Black Swan and Cygnet was situated, I revelled in it. I let myself imagine being Mrs Charles Griffiths, being rich and comfortable and elegant, and it was a beautiful dream.
We reached the little hotel with half an hour to spare before dinner, and as I checked my coat, I looked round approvingly. It was a lovely place, full of ancient oak beams and huge fireplaces where great logs of pine and applewood burned aromatically. The stone-flagged floors had soft rugs on them and there were deep comfortable armchairs about. Beyond the lobby I could see the dining-room, gleaming with lovingly polished wood, and glittering silver and china, and sparkling glass all arranged on the whitest of linen tablecloths. I sighed a sigh of pure bliss, and turned and smiled brilliantly at Charles.
“You really have a gift for living, Charles! I’ve been in this town some time now, and I didn’t know this place was here! If the food is half as good as the atmosphere this evening will be heaven.”
“I hope it will be in more ways than one,” Charles said, smiling his rather mysterious smile. “I hope you’ll make a decision this evening that will change your whole life - for the better.”
He laughed aloud at the immediately eager look that I couldn’t help letting show on my face.
“No, not yet - not yet. Patience! We’ll dine, and then later, over our coffee, I’ll talk about it. Now, what shall I order for you?”
“Oh - sherry please - not too dry,” I stammered. And then, feeling the tell-tale flush in my cheeks said, “I must tidy myself - I’ll join you in a moment -” and escaped to the door discreetly marked “Ladies”.
I was sitting at the little dressing-table, tidying my hair and repowdering my face when I noticed a girl come into the room behind me. She looked vaguely familiar, and I dropped my chin. I didn’t want to see anyone I knew, not tonight, here with Charles. And then I realized how absurd I was being, and lifted my head again.
It was Jennifer Farr, I remembered as I looked at her, a young patient of mine. She smiled when she saw me, an oddly constrained smile, and bobbed her head and then almost scuttled into the washroom section of the cloakroom.
Puzzled, I put on my lipstick, and tried to remember what I knew about Jennifer - but for the life of me I couldn’t recall why she had been to see me in the surgery. I see so many patients it’s almost impossible to remember details of all of them.
And then I shrugged, and decided to forget Jennifer. She had probably looked a little guilty - as she had - because she was out with a boy her mother wouldn’t approve of, and feared I would carry tales. Forget it, since it’s none of your concern, I mentally advised myself.
But it was odd how something about this girl niggled at the back of my mind as I made my way back to Charles in the hotel’s lounge-cum-bar. There was something important about her, and I ought to remember it - but what was it?
And then I saw Charles, and dismissed the thoughts. The sight of him standing beside the bar, a slim stemmed glass in one hand, was enough to drive anything out of a girl’s mind.
We were given a quiet table for two, in a corner, and it was ready for us with our first course when the head waiter led us to it, for Charles had already ordered the meal.
There were candles burning in tall silver sticks, and a bowl of miniature red roses in the middle, and in front of each place was set a bowl full of gleaming darkness embellished with lemon slices, with crisp hot toast nestling in a napkin beside it.
“Charles!” I said, gasping. “Caviare! This is wickedly extravagant, isn’t it?”
“Not a bit of it!” Charles said heartily. “Not a bit of it. You eat it and enjoy it - waiter! The wine, please!”
And after the caviare we ate fillet steak beautifully garnished with tips of asparagus and crisp shoestring potatoes. And then Charles crooked an imperious finger at the waiter who came and fussed with bottles and little copper pans and a spirit stove beside us, while he made crepes suzette.
And as I ate the first bite of the delicate orange-flavoured pancakes with the filling of orange and sugar and liqueur I sighed in sheer bliss. We had demolished a bottle of a deliciously delicate wine between us, and the room seemed to dance with beauty and Charles to look more agonizingly handsome at each moment. I had never been happier in all my life.
And yet - all the time something niggled at the back of my mind. I could see Jennifer at the other side of the restaurant with her back to me. She was dining with three other people - all men who looked a great deal older than she was, and seemed to be eating and drinking a good deal. But why should seeing her like this make me feel uneasy, come between me and my own delicious meal and wonderful escort?
“What’s bothering you, Phillipa?” Charles’ voice cut across, and guiltily I dragged my eyes away from Jennifer’s back, and looked at him.
“I’m sorry, Charles. It’s just that - there’s a patient of mine over there, and something’s bothering me about her - something I can’t put my finger on -”
He looked across the room, and then turned back to me.
“Conscientious girl! It’s very encouraging to see it, but you really must remember you’re off duty now! Anyway, if I have my way you won’t be bothering your head about these patients much longer.”
At this, my niggling anxiety about the young girl across the room disappeared, and I turned my full attention to Charles.
“Please, Charles - you’ve been saying things like that ever since you arrived in Tetherdown. Don’t - don’t you think you could tell me what you mean, now?” and how I managed to keep my voice light, to pretend I had no idea what he was going to say, I’ll never know.
“Over coffee,” he promised. And wouldn’t say another word until we were sitting in the comfortable lounge again, on each side of a log fire that was burning with a gentle hissing and filling the air with the redolence of its smoke.
The waiter poured our coffee, and gave Charles a balloon glass with brandy, and gave me a thimble-sized glass of Benedictine, and left us.
Charles looked at me over the rim of his glass, and then put it down and leaned forwards.
“Phillipa - I’ve always liked you, you know that?”
I managed to nod.
“I -
hoped you did,” I said huskily.
“Always,” he repeated. “And I liked working with you, back at the Royal. It - was almost a surprise to find how much I missed you, after you left. Oh, I worked with other junior house physicians, but none of them could hold a candle to you - and then you wrote, and I realized you were missing London a good deal - and missing me too, a little?”
I nodded wordlessly.
He leaned back with a pleased look on his face, and then went on, “And then, as I told you, I took this suite of rooms in Harley Street. There’s a charming little flat at the top of the house, and it really is a pleasant life - except that - well, this is where you come in.”
He leaned forwards again, and I sat very still, my untasted glass in my hand, staring at him over the edge of it while my heart thumped thickly in my chest.
“I want you, Phillipa. I need you. With you beside me, I know I could do splendidly - build the practice to something really worthwhile. But I can’t do it alone. And when I thought about it, I knew you were the only person I could possibly ask. What do you think?”
I couldn’t say a word. I just sat and looked at him.
“Of course, I couldn’t offer you a full partnership at first - in fact, probably not for some years. It would be hard work for admittedly small return, though you could economize by using part of the house - the basement - that could be made into a pleasant bed-sitting room for you. Of course, I know it would mean you would have to leave your young brother to fend for himself, but I hope you’ll think working for me more than makes up for it -”
My head whirled, and I felt physically sick. I couldn’t believe it, but his voice went on, blandly enumerating the work that would be involved, talking about the amount of salary he could pay me - and even in my bemused state, I realized that there was far more work than money to justify it - while I tried to pull myself together.
The Doctors of Downlands Page 9