by Betty Neels
Katrina flashed a smile at Maureen. `Hello again. You must havee an interesting job. Are you staying here long?'
Maureen didn't bother to smile. She said sharply, `I have to be on duty tomorrow morning--the professor's clinic. I'm kept very busy.'
Katrina handed over the tickets, and while Lady Truscott unfolded them observed casually, `Well, London isn't far off. is it? Did you come by train or drive down?'
`Oh, Simon-Professor Glenville-brought me.' She gave Katrina a puzzled look. `My aunt said so just now. It's no distance in his car.'
Maureen thought it a good thing that this aunt had died; Katrina was lovely, if in a large way. The professor might have found her attractive. Luckily there was no need for him to see her again.
`I suppose I'd better have a couple of tickets,' she said ungraciously.
Katrina sold her two, and hoped that she wouldn't get anything at all or, even better, something dull, like a bottle of vinegar. Her hope was justified; Maureen won a garish bottle of shower gel of an unknown make and handed it back with a sneering little laugh. `Not quite my style.'
'But you did win,' Katrina pointed out sweetly.
Maureen stared at her. `I always win,' she said.
Katrina was pleasantly tired when she got back to Rose Cottage that evening.
The clearing up in the village street had been a mammoth task, but a cheerful one. Everyone was pleased; almost everything had beenn sold, eaten or drunk, and the profits would be good. The church tower fund would benefit, as it always did, and the few shops had done a roaring trade. She had gone back with Mrs Peters and had supper with her and the doctor, and Mrs Peters had had a great deal to say about the fete.
The doctor had listened idly. `The Manor House party was there, I suppose? What was the TV chap like?"
'He looked like everyone else,' said Katrina. `A bit disappointing.'
`And was Lady Truscott's niece there? She's a very attractive girl.' He glanced at Katrina. `Did you know that Professor
Glenville drove her down?'
Katrina speared a bit of sausage. `Yes, he called to see me on his way back. He didn't stay...' She popped the sausage
in her mouth.
`He came to seee me too,' the doctor said. `Says you're too thin.'
Katrina went pink. `Did he indeed? I never felt better, and I was getting fat...'
`Just right,' said Mrs Peters comfortably. `It isn't my business, my dear, but why don't you have a nice holiday? A cruise, or stay at a good hotel by the sea, and when you come back join a few things-Warminster has a very good amateur dramatic society, or you could join a swimming club, and I believe Miss Grimm is going to start pottery classes in the autumn.'
Katrina said brightly, `I must certainly think about that, but it's so pleasant at the cottage in the summer, and I've got my hands full in the garden.'
She thanked them for her supper and the doctor took her home.
`Well, you can have a nice quiet day tomorrow,' he observed.
She remembered that she had said that she would be at the farm by seven o'clock in the morning. `Oh, yes, I shall,' she assured him, and kissed his elderly cheek.
`There's something not quite right,' said the doctor when he got back home. `I don't know what it is.' He yawned, for he had had a long day. `We will have to wait and see.'
Professor Glenville, eating his solitary dinner, decided that he wasn't going to wait and see. He told himself that he had no personal interest in Katrina, but felt it his duty to help her if he could. But how?
He was interrupted in his thoughts by Peach, coming to tell him that Miss Soames was on the phone. His 'Glenville' was abrupt enough to make her pause, but only for a moment.
`I've missed my train, and my aunt has gone out to dinner and taken the car. I hate to ask you, but please could you come and fetch me, Professor?'
His reply was even more abrupt. `Impossible. I'm going to the hospital now. Get a taxi.' And then, remembering his manners, he added, `I'm sorry.'
CHAPTER FIVE
THE professor, bidding his team a civil good morning before they set off on their ward round, wondered if he had been a little terse with Maureen when she had phoned him, but apparently not; she returned his greeting with a sunny smile and followed it with a sensible question about the first patient. Nor did she bother him with details as to how she'd got back home the previous evening.
Perhaps he should have driven down to fetch her, he reflected. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with Katrina he might have done so. He frowned; he mustn't allow the girl to intrude into his busy life; Katrina had been ungracious, to say the least.
Nevertheless, as the days slipped by, he found that she wasn't easy to forget.
Strolling around his lovely garden with the dogs in the evenings, he wondered about her; was she really happy at Rose Cottage with just Betsy for company? And how long was she going to keep up the pretence of being comfortably off? The long winter evenings would be lonely, and even if she found work she would go home to an empty house of an evening...
It was ten days after the fete that he went home a little earlier than usual, requested Mrs Peach to serve his dinner, and, having eaten it, whistled the dogs, ushered them into the car and drove to Rose Cottage.
He doubted that Katrina would be pleased to see him, and he had no doubt that she would cavil at his suggestion, but he had spent time and thought on it since the solution to her problem had revealed itself. If she would agree, nothing could be more satisfactory. It had been while he was examining one of his small patients with leukaemia, a little girl of eight who had responded well to chemotherapy, that he'd known what he wanted to do. Tracey and her widowed mother lived in a high-rise block of flats near St Aldrick's; to transport them both to the country for a few months would be ideal. They could have a quiet life, good food and regular check-ups, which would give him the chance to visit Rose Cottage.
He would have to tread warily, cook up some story about the NHS paying their keep-he had taken care to discover the kind of payment that might be made-and stress the need for Tracey to be given a chance to recover completely. Katrina, under her sometimes frosty exterior, had a very soft and warm heart; he wasn't sure how he knew that but he did!
Dusk was falling when he arrived at Rose Cottage; it was still warm and the flowers in the garden smelled sweet. The door was shut and there were no lights. He walked down the garden and found Katrina on her knees planting winter spinach.
When she saw him she scrambled to her feet. 'Oh-oh, it's you,' she said. A silly thing to say, but she had been thinking about him and there he was, looking self-assured and slightly amused. `Is there something the matter?"
'No, no. Have I startled you? Do you always associate me with disaster?'
She shook her head. `I wasn't expecting you-anyone-to call.'
He glanced around him. `The garden looks charming. I suppose you don't get much time during the day...'
Katrina picked up her dibber and the empty basket. She said baldly, `I don't work for Mr Thorn any more. He's had to cut back, and the others have families.'
`That's splendid news.'
`What a horrid thing to say. I don't know why you've come, but if it's to annoy me you can go away again.' 'Tut-tut, you're being hasty, and, since I'm here, the least you can do is offer me a cup of coffee.'
`Oh, well, all right.' Then, curiosity getting the better of her peevishness, she asked, `Are you staying at the Manor?"
'No.' He took the basket from her and put it in the shed, and when they went indoors he filled the kettle and put it on the gas with the air of a man who knew his way around the place.
Katrina got mugs and the coffee, and put a tin of biscuits on the table. They were the last she had, and she had been saving them in case someone should visit her from the village. She gave the tin a little shake, and counted them, and the professor saw that; he had also seen the neat and almost empty cupboard when he had looked for the sugar.
He asked casua
lly, `So, you don't work for Thorn any more?"
'Not for the last three days.' She added defiantly, `It's nice to have the days free.' And, because she wanted to convince him of that said, `There's always something to do in the garden, and then there's always something or other in the village, and the flowers for the church...'
He put their mugs on the table and pulled out her chair before going to sit down opposite her.
`Don't try so hard, Katrina.' At her furious look he added, `And don't fly off the handle before you have heard what I want to say to you. I need your help...'
`Me? You want me to help you?"
'Exactly. Just forget that you don't like me, because-that has nothing to do with what I'm going to ask of you. If you will sit quietly and listen without interrupting...'
He told her about Tracey in a calm, unhurried manner, his voice quiet and detached. `She deserves a chance,' he told her. `She's a nice child, and her mother is a quiet woman who needs a friend. The allowance for the two of them is adequate. Not over-generous, but it's the going rate. I'd like them to stay for two or three months, perhaps longer, while I try to get them into a different flat through the Social Services. If you dislike the idea, say so. You may have other plans, or dislike the idea of having someone here with you, in which case I'll say no more about it.'
`What made you think of me?' asked Katrina.
He smiled. 'Tracey was telling me how very much she wanted a cat, but of course they are unable to have a pet where they live. I remembered Betsy then.
`I've taken up too much of your time.' He got to his feet. and Barker and Jones, sitting beside his chair, rose with him.
Katrina sat where she was, looking at him. Why did he keep harping on the fact that she disliked him? Because she didn't-she might have done to begin with, but not any more. He would make a marvellous friend. If she wasn't careful shee would be pouring out her worries and woes all over his shoulders...
`I think I would like Tracey and her mother to come here. I'm-I'm sometimes a little lonely, and I need the money. But supposing they don't like me?'
He smiled then. `Unlikely, but if they don't want to stay we'll sort that problem out when it arises. You have no objections to me telling Dr Peters? I should like him to know about Tracey, although I shall come down from time to time to give her a check-up.'
Katrina got up then. `Will you let me know when they are coming?'
`Yes. It will be within the week. Tracey has just had a check-up and I won't need to see her for some time.'
A remark which left Katrina feeling disappointed, although she told herself she had no reason to be-the reverse, in fact, for her problems for the immediate future had been solved. Beyond that didn't matter for the moment.
The professor went away shortly, careful to keep to his pleasant, detached manner. 'You'll hear from my secretary very shortly,' he assured her, shook hands and took himself off.
When she could no longer see the car's tail-lights, and ewerything round her was quiet again, Katrina went back indoors and upstairs to her aunt's bedroom.
It was the largestt of the two rooms, and furnished with an old-fashioned dressing table and wardrobe, and a rather splendid bed which had belonged to Aunt Thirza's parents. She stood in the middle of the room, vexed that she hadn't told the professor that the cottage was really only meant for two people. Unless, of course, the child slept with her mother. But it was a pleasant place, and with a few flowers, and a book or two by the bed, and perhaps a tin of biscuits... Her own room was smaller, with a single bed, another old-fashioned wardrobe and dressing table, and the patchwork counterpane her aunt had patiently sewn over the years.
She must remember to ask about the beds, thought Katrina, going downstairs to sit at the table once more with pencil and paper, doing sums-much more optimistic now. She didn't expect to save any of the allowance she would receive, not if she were to feed her guests well, but it did mean that she wouldn't need to buy food for herself, so that her bank account need not. be touched. And the allowance, the professor had mentioned casually, also covered the cost of lighting and heating, and general wear and tear.
The village would ask questions, of course but, even if curious, they were kind-hearted people, and would see nothing strange in her offering a home to a sick child and her mother. Not that Katrina would have minded if they saw fit to think otherwise.
The next day she packed the small possessions belonging to her aunt and put them in the old-fashioned chest in the tiny cubbyhole under the stairs, then cleaned out the cupboards and drawers, hung the blanket and quilt outside in the bright sunshine and polished everything so that the room no longer looked as if it belonged to Aunt Thirza. Then she wondered if she had been a fool to count her chickens before they hatched. The professor could for some reason or other change his mind.
But he hadn't. There was a letter in the morning, not from him but from his secretary, setting out on paper everything, he had told her. And would she be prepared to receive her lodgers in four days' time? Her reply would be appreciated.
She sat down and wrote her answer at once, and went along to Mrs Dyer to post it. At the same time she shut herself up in the village phone box and dealt with the question of the bed The secretary sounded nice; it was something she would deal with at once, she assured Katrina, but she thought it likely that Tracey and her mother would have no objection to shareing it. `They live in a dreadful poky place, twelve storeys up I've been there with Professor Glenville--and they were sharing a single bed.'
Katrina thanked her. The secretary had a pretty voice; perhaps shee was a pretty woman. She would, of course, see a great deal of the professor. The thought was vaguely disquieting, although shee dismissed it as nonsense. And why on earth should she mind if the man had a dozen pretty secretaries?
Tracey and her mother were to arrive in time for lunch: Katrina supposed that they would travell by train and get a bus or a taxi to the village. She was up early, arranging fresh flowers, making a salad, putting coffee and lemonade ready in case they arrived earlier. She was upstairs, making a final inspection, when the professor called up the stairs, `Anyone at home?'
When she came galloping down the stairs he said, `We're early...'
She hadn't expected him. `I didn't know you would be bringing Tracey...'
He smiled. `I didn't tell you, did I? Are you pleased to see me, Katrina`?'
She was delighted, but she hoped it didn't show. `You are always welcome, Professor,' she said in a composed voice. She peered over his shoulder.
'Tracey is with you? And her mother?"
'Yes, may I fetch them? They're excited and nervous. Mrs Ward has had a hard time of it for the last year or so. I believe you to be just the person to help her regain her pleasure in life.'
He went back to the car and presently returned, with Tracey's hand in his and Mrs Ward beside him. Katrina went to meet them and the professor said, `Katrina, this is Mrs Ward,' and, when they had shaken hands, `and Tracey...'
She was small for her age, with huge blue eyes in a small pale face. She was wearing a cotton mob cap and a cotton dress, very clean but too large. She offered a hand and smiled at Katrina.
Katrina beamed back. `My goodness, we're going to have fun,' she declared. `Come in, there's coffee and lemonade.' She glanced at the professor. `You'll have a cup of coffee before you go back?'
`Please. I'll get the cases.'
Katrina ushered the pair into the cottage. `I'm so glad to have company,' she told Mrs Ward, `and I do hope you'll be happy here.'
She led the way into the kitchen. `Come and sit down; the professor won't be long. Did you enjoy the drive down?'
Mrs Ward was looking uncertain. `You're sure you don't mind having us? The professor said...'
Katrina gave her a warm smile. `I'm delighted to have you, and for a start I'm not going to call you Mrs Ward. I'm
Katrina...'
`Molly.' Mrs Ward smiled then, and looked around. `It's like a dream...'
He shook hands with them both, nodded at Katrina, and went to the door. `Phone me at my rooms or in the hospital if you need me, Katrina.'