by Betty Neels
`Not that I like the girl overmuch,' said Mrs Peters surprisingly. `No warmth, if you know what I mean. She'll make a most suitable wife and spend his money, but that won't be of much use to him, will it? He needs a loving wife.'
Dr Peters laughed. `Like you, my dear?"
'Like me.'
Like me, thought Katrina. The sudden clear thought emptied her head of anything else. And how strange to be so sure of something so completely alien to her previous feelings about the professor. When, she wondered, had her vague dislike of him changed to love, and why hadn't she known about it? And now she did know about it, and a lot of use that was!
Alone that evening she sat down and thought about it. She felt excited, but sad too, for nothing would come of her love. She would have to steel herself to hearing of his engagement to Maureen. `What a good thing that I have a career as a librarian before me,' she told Betsy.
She woke in the night and wondered if he would bring Tracey and Mrs Ward back, for Tracey was spending the night at the hospital again. She longed to see him again, but she must remember to be cool-friendly, but cool. It would be hard...
She got up early, and after breakfast set about preparing lunch. She would cook a little more of everything just in case he came. She set the coffee ready and made a batch of biscuits, made sure that her hair was tidy and her face nicely made-up, and then sat down to wait.
The morning had slipped away to early afternoon when Mrs Ward and Tracey came. They had missed the train, they told her, and wasn't it marvellous that Tracey need not have another check-up for three months? And there was a flat they could move into in three weeks' time.
They both talked at once, and Katrina, despite her disappointment, was delighted for them.
`Have you seen it? Where is it?"
'Not yet. The professor's coming to fetch us on Saturday afternoon so that we can see it. Isn't it exciting? And the Social Services are letting me have some furniture, and I've saved quite a bit of money so's we can have curtains and a rug or two.'
Mrs Ward flung her arms round Katrina. `Oh, Katrina, you don't know how happy I am.'
They spent a delightful hour or so discussing furnishings, and Katrina promised herself that she would make some excuse to leave the cottage on Saturday so that she wouldn't see the professor.
`At what time are you to be fetched?' she asked casually.
`Early in the morning, around nine o'clock, and we're to be ready and not bother about coffee or anything.'
Katrina, always an early riser, got up even earlier than usual on Saturday. It had rained during the night, but the morning was glorious. She got into a cotton dress and sandals, roused Mrs Ward and Tracey; got breakfast and, when they had eaten it, cleared the table.
When they came downstairs, dressed and ready to wait for the professor, she said suddenly, `Oh, I quite forgot. I must fetch the chicken from the farm. I'll go straight away before it gets too warm. You've a key, haven't you, Molly? If I'm not back before you go, lock the door, will you? Have a lovely day, and remember to tell me everything when you get back.' She added in a suitably casual voice, `I promised I'd go and see Mrs Peters this afternoon. If I'm not back, give the professor coffee if he would like it.'
Shee hugged Tracey, got on her bike and pedalled away briskly. It wasn't quite nine o'clock; she would stay until ten o'clock to be on the safe side.
She fetched the chicken and, since she had time on her hands, left her bike in the ditch and climbed a gate into a small field shaded by trees, to sit idly thinking about the professor and her future. But thinking about him was foolish and a waste of time, so she concentrated on the job awaiting her at the library. When she heard the church clock striking ten she got on to her bike and cycled back to Rose Cottage.
The Bentley was parked outside and the professor was leaning over the gate. `There you are,' he said cheerfully, `Mrs Ward's making coffee, then we'll be off.' He eyed her dress. `That's nice; come as you are.'
`I'm not coming,' said Katrina, and hoped he couldn't hear her heart thumping. `I've a lot to do in the garden, And there's the chicken and Mrs Peters...'
He opened the gate for her. `Dear girl, we won't go until you say that you will come with us. Tracey will break her heart.'
He was standing much too near her for comfort. `Yes, well--I dare say she won't mind if I explain.'
`Oh, yes, she will. Pretend I'm not here, ignore me completely if you wish, and when you are in a better temper you can tell me why you avoid me. Now run along and put the chicken away and we'll pour the coffee.'
`My hair...
`Delightful, but I dare say you want to look severe. Go and pin it up, then. You can have five minutes.'
He smiled at her and she caught her breath, because it was tender and just a little amused, and since she could think of no further argument she did as she was told.
Half an hour later they were on their way. Mrs Ward beside the professor, Katrina and Tracey in the back. Reaching London, the professor drove across the city's heart until he reached Bow. The main street was bustling, and the shops were small and for the most part shabby, but the narrow roads leading from it were linedd with well-cared-for houses. Mostly small, but here and there larger Victorian town houses of three or four storeys. Into one of these streets the professor drove, and presently stopped before one such house facing a small fenced plot of grass and small trees.
There was no basement and no front garden, but the door opened onto a room hall with a staircase at one side and a smaller door beside it. He took a key from his pocket and opened it and ushered them in.
There was a tiny hall, with a door at its end and two doors along one wall. The first door opened onto a fair-sized room with a bay window overlooking the street. The wall had been distempered pale yellow and there was a small electric fire in the fireplace.
Mrs Ward looked around her. `Is it a bed-sitting room?"
'No, no. Come through here.' He led the way through a door in the end wall into a smaller room with a window looking out onto a small garden, and at Tracey's squeal of delight said, `Yes, the garden is yours too. Come and see the kitchen.'
This was a slip of a room, but nicely fitted with shelves and cupboards. There was a small window here too, and a door leading to the garden. And leading from the kitchen a bathroom, very basic, but there was a gas geyser over the bath and a small washbasin.
Mrs Ward had her arms round Tracey. `It's not true. I couldn't never afford it even if it was.'
`Come into the garden,' invited the professor, and he opened the kitchen door. It was very small, fenced in and neglected, but Katrina, casting her eyes around it, was already planting it in her mind's eye, and there were several overgrown shrubs and a rose bush or two which only needed a little loving attention...
`Like it?' the professor wanted to know.
`Oh, sir, it's wonderful. Only as I said, it'll cost too much to rent.'
`Well, the Social Services are asking a very reasonable amount, and you will have a grant to buy basic furniture and help towards gas and electricity and so on. There's a good school about five minutes' walk from here.'
`I could get work. I did before, you know-cleaning for ladies.'
`Then would you like to come with me now, and we can settle the matter at once?"
'I'll never be able to thank you enough.'
'Tracey has been such a brave little girl you both deserve a reward, Mrs Ward. Do you want to take another look before we go?'
Katrina stayed in the car while they went to arrange about the flat. They were there a long time and it was warm in the car. She sat thinking about Mrs Ward's happy face and Tracey's excitement.
The professor wasn't just kind; he had gone to a lot of trouble on Mrs Ward's behalf and kept very quiet about it. Katrina had no doubt in her mind that he had helped other patients in a similar manner. There was a great deal she didn't know about him. Had he parents alive, brothers and sisters, and where did they live? He never spoke of himself, an
d only
occasionally of his work, but she had no doubt that he had friends enough.
Mrs Peters, who enjoyed a good gossip, had confided in her one day: Lady Truscott had mentioned in a smug way that he was attracted to Maureen, despite numerous attempts by other equally charming girls to attract his attention. Katrina had no doubt that that was true; he was a prize-successful in his profession, well-off, good-looking, possessing a lovely house. On the other hand she doubted if he found any of these things other than his work important.
She longed to get to know him better. There was no hope that he would fall in love with her, but if she knew more about him at least she would have more to remember him by...
They came back to the car presently, Mrs Ward and Tracey both talking at once, anxious that Katrina should have a share in their delight. When they paused for breath the professor observed quietly that they could discuss the rest in comfort over a meal, and drove back towards the City. On Islington's fringe he parked before a small restaurant in a narrow street.
It was half filled, light and airy, its tables covered in white cloths, with small vases of flowers and immaculate silverware. Exactly right, reflected Katrina, studying the menu. Not so elegant that Molly and Tracey might have felt out of place, but elegant enough to make the meal a treat to remember.
She and the professor had hardly exchanged a word. Now he asked casually, `Is there anything special you would like, Katrina? A salad? Salmon fish cakes?'
He glanced at her as he spoke and she said at once, `Oh, I'd like the fishcakes and some French fries.' She saw Mrs Ward's look of relief as she and Tracey said they would like that too. The fish cakes weren't frozen, they were delicious, and presently the pair of them were joining in the easy talk Katrina and the professor had started, any awkwardness about their surroundings quickly forgotten.
The meal was a great success, made even more so by the pudding trolley loaded with so many delicacies that Tracey couldn't make up her mind until the waiter suggested that she might have a little of several of them.
They didn't hurry over their coffee, and Katrina wondered if the professor was impatient to see them back to Rose Cottage. If he was, he gave no sign.
Katrina wasn't quite sure how she came to be sitting with the professor on their return journey, nor why. It wasn't as though he wanted to talk, for they exchanged barely a word during the whole trip. Perhaps he thought that Mrs Ward and Tracey would like to be together so that they could discuss their future. She sat quietly, watching his hands on the wheel, and tried to think of some intelligent remark to break the silence. And that was a waste for he said quietly, `No need to talk, Katrina.'
A remark which rendered her dumb.
At Rose Cottage she offered him tea in a voice to freeze his bones, but he refused cheerfully, bade Mrs Ward and Tracey goodbye, patted her on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion, observing that they would probably meet at some time, and then drove off.
Probably a polite way of bidding her goodbye; he had no need to come again. He had thanked her for having Tracey and her mother, it had been an arrangement which had suited both of them, and that was that. Katrina told herself to grow up and stop behaving like a silly girl instead of a sensible woman, and threw herself into the preparations for Tracey's return to London.
The village knew almost at once, of course, and since there was nothing very much happening for a week or two great interest was shown in their departure. Mrs Peters, kindness itself, gave a little tea party for them, and the Mothers' Union handed Mrs Ward an embroidered tablecloth for her new home and a doll for Tracey. Molly, bearing her gifts back to the cottage, cried all over Katrina. `Everyone's so kind,' she sobbed, `and I'm so happy.'
`You've a lot of friends here,' said Katrina bracingly, `and when you want a holiday you'll always be very welcome. Shall we go to Warminster tomorrow and see if there are any odd lengths of curtain material? They have some very smart clothes there too. Fit yourself out while you have the chance, Molly.'
So they all went to Warminster and spent a long time browsing in charity shops. It was a pity they didn't know the size of the windows, but the discarded curtains, some of them of excellent material, were so cheap it was worth buying them.
Katrina, examining a length of flowered chintz, suggested that they went up to Bow and got the measurements and made the curtains up before Mrs Ward left. `And while we're here, look at this jacket. It's your size, and such a nice colour. It would take you right through the winter too-let's find a skirt...' And before she went back home she bought corduroy velveteen in a pretty blue, enough to make Tracey a dress and matching mob cap.
It was a tedious journey to Bow, but worth it. They left Tracey in Mrs Peters' kind care and spent several hours making lists and measuring. Mrs Ward's bits and pieces of furniture which had been stored were to be augmented by the Social. Services-a bed for Tracey, a comfortable chair, a chest of drawers and a dressing table and wardrobe. They went round arranging the furniture in their heads, and spent some time in the little garden.
`I'll come up in the autumn,' said Katrina, `and bring you bulbs and some rose trees. And I'd lovee to come up one day once you've settled in and dig the garden over. Then you can plant things as you want to.'
`Will you really? But you said you would have a job?"
'Only part-time...'
The day of their departure arrived. There had been no sign of the professor, no message, nothing. They were to travel by train; there was a midday bus which would take them to Warminster, and Katrina was going with them to see them
safely on the train. She had offered to go all the way with them, but Molly had declined. `You don't mind? You see, we want to be there together, just Tracey and me-you know? Arranging things and making the beds and having supper. You do understand?"
'Yes, I do, Molly. I'd want to do that if I were you. Only promise me that if you should need help you'll let me know. You had friends before, didn't you? Once they know that you are back in London they'll come and see you.'
They had brought their luggage downstairs, and Katrina was checking that they had everything when there was a knock on the door.
Simon, thought Katrina, forgetting that she must never think of him as that, only as the professor, and flew to the door. Peach stood there.
'Peach-good morning. How nice to see you! Come in...'
She led him into the living room, at a loss for words.
`Good morning, miss. The professor sent me to drive Mrs Ward and her little girl to their flat. He's unable to come himself. The journey might be too tiring for them and they may need a little help when they get there.'
`Peach, how kind. You'll have a cup of coffee? It won't take long and you'll be glad of five minutes' rest.'
She called to Molly and Tracey, and when they came downstairs introduced Peach and left them to get coffee. It was the sort of thoughtful gesture the professor would make, and it would turn a long, tiring journey into a pleasant trip. She warmed the milk and wondered what Simon was doing. Peach had said that he was unable to come-was he ill? On holiday? Or just too busy at the hospital? The thought of him being ill made her feel quite sick, until she reminded herself that he was the kind of man who never got ill.
Presently Peach stowed the luggage in the boot, waiting patiently while Katrina packed eggs and butter, a bottle of milk and half a loaf of bread into a plastic bag. She had the rest of the day in which to replenish her larder...
She said goodbye to Molly, and then hugged Tracey before they got into the car. A nice car, she reflected. a Rover-surely Simon didn't have two cars? She would have liked to have asked Peach but she decided not to.
The cottage was very empty when they had driven away. She went upstairs and collected bed linenn and towels andd putt them into the washing machine, then set about turning the room out. It would be something to do, and since Molly was no longer there to talk to she talked to Betsy. Later she cycled down to the village and phoned the librarian.
<
br /> A librarian would be going on holiday at thee beginning of the week. Katrina could start then, working full time, but then there would be no vacancy for part-time work until the beginning of September.
I'm very lucky, she told herself, cycling back to the cottage to hang out the sheets and then call in at Dr Peters' surgery. He took her back to his home for a late tea and she told him and Mrs Peters of her plans.
`It's so fortunate,' she said brightly, `and I know I shall enjoy working at the library. Only two weeks for now, but part time in September suits me beautifully.'
That evening she sat down and did her sums. There would be a final cheque for Mrs Ward and Tracey's board and lodging, but she had saved nothing from the previous payments; anything which had been over she had used to buy extras for Tracey. But there was enough in her purse to see her round until she was paid at the library. Her future, she told herself, was assured. Contemplating it, she sat there, tears rolling down her cheeks.