by Betty Neels
He laughed, got to his feet, took the coffee tray back to the kitchen and pronounced himself ready to walk to the village.
'I'm sure it would do you more good to rest quietly in the garden,' said Katrina pettishly.
He said mildly, `I'm thirty-nine years old, Katrina. Getting on a bit but not yet reconciled to a chair in the garden. Do you consider me old?'
She pulled at the long grasses fringing the road. 'No-no, of course not. Not even middle-aged. But I thought that you might be tired.'
She glanced sideways at him and added hastily because of the look on his face, which she couldn't quite understand, `Is Tracey really cured?"
'No, but I believe we've managed to reach a state of remission which I hope will last for many years. Mrs Ward
understands that, but there is no reason for Tracey to know. She will probably live to a reasonable age, and I hope, happily."
`She's a dear child, and Molly is very brave. I hope to have them settled in a ground-floor flat fairly soon, with a fine garden-a converted Victorian villa-type. A very quiet street and a school close by. Mrs Ward should be able to find some kind of work if she would like that.'
`You've been very good to them.'
`I know a great many useful people. Why were you upset when I left the other afternoon?'
She hadn't expected that. `Me? Upset? Why should I be upset?"
'I don't know,' he said mildly, `that's why I'm asking you.' And when she didn't answer he said, `Never mind-you don't intend to tell me, do you?' They walked on silently until he asked, `Do you ever go to Stourhead?"
'Oh, yes. At least, I haven't been for ages, but Aunt Thirza and I went several times. It's beautiful.'
`I've tickets for an evening concert there: music and singing and picnicking on the lawns. Next Saturday. Will you come?"
'Oh, I'd love to. With Molly and Tracey?'
`No. Just the two of us. I'll come for you about half past seven and bring some food with me.'
`Oh, well. That would be very nice. Is it a dressy affair?"
'Something pretty, and a warm wrap in case it gets chilly.'
`Then thank you; I'll come with you with pleasure.' She smiled up at him. `Here's Mrs Dyer's shop.'
They carried back the cartons of ice cream wrapped in newspaper, Katrina having avoided Mrs Dyer's interested eye. Heaven knew what tale would be going round the village in the morning. She didn't care, her head full of the delights of Stourhead.
Every crumb of her carefully prepared lunch was eaten, so was most of the ice cream, and when they had finished the professor volunteered to wash up. Since Mrs Ward said that
she had promised Tracey that they would go to the farm and fetch the eggs, Katrina felt constrained to dry the dishes.
`You shouldn't be doing this; there is no need, you know.'
'Ah, but there is; I must practise... !'
`Practise? Why?"
'I'm told by my married friends that when the daily help isn't there they are expected to wash the dishes. I'm putting in some practice, as I said.'
She dried a plate carefully. `You're getting married?'
He said easily, `It's about time, isn't it?'
She said tartly, `Well, there was nothing to stop you marrying whenever you wanted to.'
`There is the question of finding the right wife.'
`But now you've found her?' Katrina went on briskly, `Then you mustn't waste time.' She paused, then allowed her tongue to utter her thought. `Do I know her?"
'Oh, yes. May I stay to tea?'
A snub, and not even a gentle one. `I'm sure we shall all be pleased if you stay,' said Katrina primly.
He was in no hurry to go; he sat for a while after they had had their tea and got to his feet reluctantly.
`It will be a pleasant drive back to your home,' said Katrina, leading him briskly out to his car, not wanting him to go but on the other hand longing to see the back of him. He unsettled her.
At the car he paused. `Thank you for lunch and tea. A pleasant interlude. Mind you're ready on Saturday.'
He bent and kissed her cheek, got into the car and drove off, Jones beside him, Barker lounging on the back seat. She watched the tail-lights disappear and wondered what he was going to do with his evening.
Although she told herself that it was only an evening out, and nothing to get excited about, Katrina spent Saturday peering up at the blue sky, afraid that at any moment it would pour with rain. She had performed her usual morning chores in the quickest time possible, arranged for Tracey and her mother's suppers, done some quick shopping and then retired to her room to do her nails, wash her hair and inspect her dress for any imperfections.
He had said `something pretty', and she had rooted around in her wardrobe and found a pretty rose-patterned frock, worn to a friend's wedding two or three years ago. It had a long wide skirt and a neat little short-sleeved bodice. After searching drawers she found a pale mohair stole which hadd belonged to Aunt Thirza. Not the height of fashion, but it would pass muster in a crowd, and besides, it would be dusk for a good deal of the evening.
Tracey thought that she looked beautiful, and Mrs Ward said, `Oh, Katrina, you're so pretty. Everyone will look at you...'
Katrina, not a conceited girl, thought that unlikely, but she hoped that the professor might at least approve of the dress.
He came punctually, knocking politely on the door before coming in.
He bade everyone good evening, observed that it was exactly the weather for an outdoor occasion and added, `Very nice, Katrina. Are you ready?'
Tracey tugged his hand. `Doesn't she look beautiful?' she wanted to know. And added, `It's not a new dress, but it's pretty, isn't it? And she's washed her hair.'
Mrs Ward said quickly, `Oh, Tracey, be quiet dear,' and Katrina wished that the ground beneath her feet would open and swallow her up.'
`It is a charming dress,' said the professor seriously. 'Katrina looks like Cinderella.'
Tracey agreed. `Yes, yes, she does. Only there isn't a Prince Charming...'
`Did you leave Barker and Jones at home?' said Katrina in a high voice.
`Yes. I don't fancy they would enjoy the music, and they are tired. We went for a long walk and found a racing pigeonn with a damaged wing. I'll tell you about it some time.'
`You took him home`?'
He smiled down at the eager little face. `Of course. He's wearing a splint and when he's well he'll go home again.'
In the car he kept up a steady flow of gentle talk so that Katrina began to enjoy herself. It had been silly of her to have felt so shy because he had been joking about Cinderella.
It was a short drive, around twenty miles, and thee professor didn't hurry. He parked the car and they joined the stream of people making their way onto the grass stretch bordering the lake.
It was very beautiful there, and they found a quiet spot from where they could see the Pantheon at the far end, framed by the giant trees. There were ducks and swans on the lake, and fish Veasily seen if one walked to the iron bridge by the Pantheon. People threw pennies into the water, presumably for luck. It took the best part of an hour to walk right round the lake, but if one stopped to inspect the grotto and the temple of Apollo and linger among the trees it took twice as long. Katrina thought how much she would enjoy walking its paths with the professor.
He had the picnic basket with him and spread a rug for her to sit on. He said, `Each time I come here I tell myself that I must come more often.'
`Yes, I know. We came once, Aunt Thirza and I , in the winter. We were about the only people here and there was a heavy frost. It was out of this world.'
He had stretched out beside her, offering her the programme. `Mostly Mozart and madrigals, and some Delius.'
The concert began and they sat quietly, finding no need to talk. The interval was the signal for the audience to open their picnic baskets, to stroll to and fro and greet friends. The professor spread their picnic on the grass between them: smoked salmon bet
ween paper-thin brown bread and butter, tiny pancakes filled with chopped chicken, cheese and crackers, dishes of salad and little pots of creamy custard, chocolate snuffles and trifles. There was white wine in a cooler, and a Thermos of coffee, and even a dish of after-dinner mints.
When the music started again they sat quietly, not talking, sitting side by side, his arm around her shoulders. It was quite dark when the concert ended, with a starry sky and a bright moon, and the audience slowly packed up and went to their cars. Theirs was one of the last to leave, and the car park by the Spread Eagle pub was almost empty. Neither of them noticed Lady Truscott's car. Nor did they see Maureen Soames, sitting in it with her aunt.
It was midnight by the time they reached Rose Cottage. In the car, on the point of getting out, Katrina said, `It was a lovely evening,, thank you. And the picnic--dear Mrs Peach...' She glanced at his profile. `I expect you're free tomorrow? You'll be very late home.'
He didn't answer her but got out of the car and opened her door.
`I always think that a cup of tea is the ideal way to end a pleasant evening.'
`You'd like that?' She skipped out of the car, happy that the evening wasn't to end for a little longer. She was enjoying his company; more, she was happy with him. All her small doubts and problems seemed to disappear when he was with her. They went quietly indoors and found Betsy asleep in her basket and the table laidd for breakfast. He put the kettle on while she got mugs and milk and sugar.
`That was a delicious cake we had at tea the other day,' said the professor, and when she fetched it ate a huge slice.
He got up to go presently, unhurriedly. And when she would have gone down the path with him to the car said, `No, stay here and lock the door after me.' He stood looking down at her. `Enjoy your day tomorrow,' he said, and Katrina, filled with a vague hope of what he might have said, was disappointed.
She said rather stiffly, `I hope you don't have too busy a week. And thank you again, Professor.'
'Simon,' he said, and bent and kissed her. Not a goodnight peck, not a polite social salute, but a kiss to send her insides aglow.
This will not do, said Katrina to herself, tumbling into bed. He's going to get married. We don't even know each other well.
All the same she woke in a glow of happiness in the morning, although she didn't allow her thoughts to dwell on the previous evening. She gave a faithful description of the gala at Stourhead to Tracey and Molly, described what dresses she had noticed, praised the concert and detailed the contents of the picnic basket.
`It sounds very nice,' said Molly. `You should go out more often. I hope us being here doesn't stop you from that.'
She looked so anxious that Katrina said at once, `Of course it doesn't. I have never gone out a great deal-only in the village, tennis parties and so on. Aunt Thirza and I led very quiet lives. Who is coming to church?'
It was as they left church that she came face to face with Maureen. She would have walked on after a civil good morning, but Maureen laid a hand on her arm.
`Wasn't the concert at Stourhead simply splendid?' she asked. `I loved every minute of it. I'm so glad that Simon thought of taking you-he was a bit disappointed when I told him. I'd already arranged to go with a party from the Manor. Such a pity, for we both share a love for good music. At least Mrs Peach's picnic wasn't wasted...'
Katrina said evenly, `She makes splendid meals, doesn't she? It was a delightful evening, and so fortunate that it was
such a fine night. You're here for the weekend?"
'Yes, I'm to be collected this evening. So silly, really. If I'd known that Simon was free I could have cancelled lunch
with friends today. Still, there is still this evening.'
Katrina said quietly, `Yes. You'll be hard at work again on Monday, I expect.'
Maureen's smile made her grit her teeth. `Oh, yes, but it isn't all work, you know.' She glanced round her. `I don't know how you can bear to live here in this dump. I suppose if you've never lived anywhere else you get resigned to it.'
`Never resigned,' said Katrina slowly. `You see, we have time to live here. I must go. Tracey will be wanting her dinner.'
`Oh, that child Simon talks about. I must say she looks ridiculous in that silly cap.'
Katrina said suddenly, `You know, I find it hard to believe that you're a doctor. Goodbye.'
She raged silently all the way home to Rose Cottage, answering Mrs Ward's gentle chatter mechanically. How could the professor love, even like such a horrible woman? And why couldn't he have been honest and told her why he had invited her to Stourhead? She wouldn't have minded.
Yes, she would, she had to admit. But never again, she told herself. No more outings with him. If he came again she would find some excuse for being out of the house. Molly could give him a meal if he wanted, and the only reason he would come would be to see Tracey.
`I wish the professor would come to tea,' said Tracey as they ate their lunch. `Do you suppose he might?"
'No,' said Katrina firmly, `it's most unlikely. He has lots of friends, and it's only when he comes to see how you are that he stays for tea. Now that you are so well he won't need to come so often, will he?"
'Will I go to see him in hospital again?"
'Of course.' Katrina glanced at Molly. `But you and Mummy know the way now; you can go together and perhaps you will see him for a little while just enough time to tell him about the garden and the chicks at the farm.'
She spoke cheerfully, and Mrs Ward backed her up. `How about taking some eggs for him next time we go? He'll love one with his tea, just like you do.'
They went for a walk in the afternoon, and spent the rest of the day in the garden, reading and chatting idly, and then playing Snakes and Ladders with Tracey.
Monday was another day, thought Katrina, getting ready for bed. The beginning of another week. She allowed her thoughts to dwell on the professor, wondering what he was doing. Possibly driving Maureen back to London.
She got into bed and closed her eyes, only to find his face mirrored on their lids. `This is ridiculous,' said Katrina aloud, and at length went to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE professor had made it plain that Mrs Ward and Tracey would be returning to London within the next few weeks. A month to six weeks, Katrina thought. It all depended on a suitable home being found for them. But it had been a warning to her that she must consider her future once more.
Leaving Mrs Ward and Tracey to do the shopping, she went along to the library in Warminster. Her luck was in; the head librarian hadn't forgotten her, and what was more told her that within the next month or so there would be a vacancy for a part-time helper in the library. Three days a week, and although the money wasn't much she would be able to manage; it was a foot in the door, thought Katrina, and she could study for exams and in time become a librarian. She told herself that she was a lucky girl and went to find Molly and Tracey.
They had ices in a small cafe in the High Street, and then went round Woolworth's so that Tracey could spend her pocket money. Mrs Ward bought wool and knitting needles; Tracey would need woollies for the winter.
She said, half apologetically to Katrina, `I must start thinking about when we go back to London.'
`Well, of course you must. I shall miss you both very much, but it will be rather exciting moving into a new home, and Tracey will like going back to school.'
`You will come and see us?"
'I'd love to.'
Two weeks later, obedient to a letter from the Professor's secretary, Tracey and her mother went to London once more. Katrina stayed at home and paid some long-delayed visits around the village to various friends.
She had tea with Dr Peters and his wife, and told them a little of her future plans.
`It does sound very nice, dear,' said Mrs Peters. `A bit dull, but I expect you'll meet some nice young people-I mean, so many people go to the library, don't they? You'll miss your visitors.'
Katrina agreed. `Yes, I shall, but
it's marvellous that Tracey is well enough to lead a normal life.'
Dr Peters said, 'Glenville is a good man, has a good deal of success with his patients. He's kept busy, what with his own practice and the travelling round he does to various hospitals. We were at the Manor the other evening, and Lady Truscott was telling us that her niece-remember her, Katrina?-is very happy working in his team. They're good friends. Indeed Lady Truscott hinted that they were slightly more than that. I must say she's a very attractive girl.'
He took a bite of cake. `Time he got married anyway.'
Katrina said brightly, `They must have a great deal in common...'