by Betty Neels
‘Poor old man,’ she said kindly, ‘you can’t expect him to take to someone he’s never met before—why, it would spoil his holiday.’ She looked at Tabitha’s downbent head. ‘That’s why they asked you, Miss Tabby. They know you’ll put up with Mr Raynard’s tantrums, and his wife likes you.’
She didn’t mention Marius at all, and neither did Tabitha.
A couple of days later when she had the opportunity to speak to Marius she asked what arrangements she should make. She had already been to Matron, to be told that Mr Raynard had already spoken personally to that lady, who said with an unwonted degree of friendliness:
‘Of course I agreed at once, Sister Crawley, provided you yourself wish to accompany the party. It seems to me to be a very good idea, and an excellent opportunity to have the ward redecorated and modernized while you are away. I shall come down to see you in a day or so; I daresay you may have some ideas about colour schemes and so forth.’
She nodded gracious dismissal and Tabitha went back to the ward where she found Marius and George drinking coffee in her office. It was then that she asked what she was expected to do next.
‘Nothing,’ said Marius lazily. ‘At least, get your passport up to date if it isn’t, and I suppose women buy clothes.’ He looked at George. ‘Do they, George?’
George, being a married man, said that yes, they did and he couldn’t think why, for old clothes were the only possible wear on holiday. This remark naturally led to a discussion as to the best type of holiday, and Tabitha, seeing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere at all with her own affairs, excused herself, saying with a tinge of sarcasm that there were those who worked; a remark which was quite lost upon her hearers, deep as they were in the joys of fly fishing.
She had better luck with Mrs Raynard, who happened to visit her husband that afternoon. The two of them spent ten minutes comparing notes about what they should take with them so that Tabitha’s mind was set at rest upon that important point at least, although no one had, as yet, told her how they were going. When she had asked Mr Raynard all he said was:
‘Good grief, girl, Marius will see to everything—why do you fuss? You’re all alike!’
‘In which case,’ said Tabitha, thoroughly put out by this unfair remark, ‘you can quite well do without me, and I certainly don’t care to come if I’m to be bawled at every time I open my mouth!’
The last word came out as a small scream, for she was firmly caught round the waist from behind. She didn’t need to ask who it was and her first thought was that it was lucky that they were in the cubicle and not out in the ward. ‘My solemn promise,’ said Marius’s voice in her ear, ‘that if the chief puts you out I shall personally take him out into deep water and drop him overboard. I shan’t need weight—that plaster will do very well.’
They all laughed and he let her go, whereupon she turned smartly on her heel and made for the door, where she paused to say: ‘There are two new cases in, sir—would you like to see them, or shall I ring for Mr Steele?’
He didn’t answer this but asked instead: ‘When are you off, Tabby?’
‘At six.’
‘I’ve had no opportunity to talk to you about the journey to Veere—perhaps this evening?’
‘No,’ said Tabitha too quickly. ‘I—I’ve a previous engagement!’ She gave him a direct look, for after all it wasn’t really a lie; she had promised Meg that she would help her make jam. Marius returned the look with one of his own and although his expression was politely regretful, she was fairly sure that he was laughing at her. ‘Some other time,’ he murmured gently. ‘And now what about these patients?’
Some other time was a vague term rendered useless by a sudden avalanche of work, for a local building site sent in two men, one with a fractured spine and the other with a crushed pelvis; then there was the postman whose brakes had failed on a steep hill just outside the city, and the retired naval officer who, like Mr Raynard, had come a cropper in his garden and fractured his patella into so many pieces that all Marius could do was to remove them—the old gentleman would be a little stiff in the knee, but as he was well over seventy, this drawback wasn’t too severe. There was a little lull after that so that there was time to catch up on the paperwork—time for Marius to seek her out too.
Which he did one afternoon as she sat making out the papers of the patients who had been admitted for operation in two days’time. He asked from the door: ‘May I come in?’ and then, before she could do more than nod: ‘You have a day off tomorrow, haven’t you—unless you’re going to put it off again?’
She had done just that earlier in the week because Rogers’ young man had had a birthday and wanted to take her out to celebrate. ‘No,’ she said sedately.
‘Good. I’m going to Chidlake, come with me—we can talk on the way.’ He came a little further into the room. ‘You can give Mrs Crawley and Lilith a surprise.’
A fine surprise, thought Tabitha, feeling sick at the thought of the fun they would have at her expense. She drew a breath. ‘I—I don’t suppose you know that I—we don’t get on, that is we haven’t many interests in common. I don’t go home often.’ She was drawing a cat with enormous whiskers and a curly tail on the blotting paper and didn’t look up.
‘Of course I know,’ said Marius quietly. ‘I’ve been—er—told. But my dear good girl, even if that is the case, surely you can be civil to each other at least on the surface—think how much easier it would be when you went home.’
Tabitha drew a kitten beside the cat, concentrating fiercely upon it. There was a great deal she would have liked to say, but her thoughts couldn’t be put into coherent words—besides, Lilith would have said all there was to say and he would be biased already. She muttered: ‘I daresay,’ and started on another kitten. Marius sat down and she listened to the chair’s protesting squeak—one day it would give way under him and she would have to explain to Matron…no, he wouldn’t be here long enough for that. She sighed and gave the mother cat a bonnet with a feather.
‘You’re afraid,’ said Marius very softly.
She put her pen down and sat up straight and faced him squarely, her plain face animated into near beauty by her rage. ‘How dare you?’ Her pleasant voice was a little shrill but well under control. ‘Until you came I had my life planned and everything was…you’ve done nothing but…I was safe…’
‘In a rut, with your hair sleeked back and your nose buried in your work, just because a long time ago somebody called you a plain girl.’
‘Oh, but she meant it,’ Tabitha gabbled wildly, ‘and I am.’ She went on furiously: ‘Can’t you see you’ve stirred me up? I was happy before.’
‘Happy? With your broom and no chance of a glass slipper?’
He got up and pulled her out of her chair and held her hands in his.
‘Tabitha, shall we not be friends? After all, I expect to see a great deal of you in the future and we can’t go on like this, at loggerheads, for ever and ever.’
Tabitha stared ahead of her at his white drill coat; it was stiff and spotless, showing a glimpse of a silk tie. If she raised her eyes just an inch or so, she could see his face, but she had no intention of doing that; she was thinking that when he married Lilith it would be so much more comfortable if they all got on well together. She imagined herself in five or six years’ time, spending her holidays in London, or wherever Lilith decided to live, looking after the children while Marius took Lilith on some splendid trip. She said in a bewildered voice: ‘Could we be friends?’
She felt his hands tighten on her own. ‘Yes, Tabby.’ He let go of one hand and lifted her chin and gave her a long look, then kissed her on the cheek—a nice brotherly kiss, thought Tabitha, even in her limited experience. He smiled suddenly and with such charm that she closed her eyes for a second. ‘You’ll come with me tomorrow, Tabitha. I promise you it will be all right. Will you trust me?’
‘Yes.’ She moved away so that he let go her other hand too, and swallowed the lump in her
throat which threatened to choke her. ‘What time do you want me to be ready?’
‘About ten or thereabouts, if that suits you. What about Meg? Can we give her a lift somewhere?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll ask her. She might like to visit her sister, only there’s Podger—we try not to leave him alone too much.’
He didn’t seem to find this ridiculous. ‘Supposing we come back directly after tea, that wouldn’t be too long for him to be on his own, would it?’
Tabitha thought not and added diffidently: ‘You know, unexpected people for lunch aren’t always welcome—shouldn’t I…?’
Marius said positively: ‘No, you shouldn’t.’ He got up again and went to the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He smiled very kindly as he went.
Tabitha told Meg all about it when she got home later that evening and was surprised when she said: ‘And a better friend you couldn’t have, Miss Tabby. You be glad of his friendship, love, it’s not what you want, I know, but mark my words, nothing but good will come of it.’ She looked at Tabitha with affection. ‘You’re a spirited girl, your father always said you had pluck—now’s the chance to show it. You be thankful he wants you for a friend, Miss Tabby.’
But Tabby, doing her best to be thankful, only succeeded in being very miserable indeed, but Meg, asleep in her own small room, wasn’t to know that.
It was a heavenly morning. Tabitha got up early, took Meg a cup of tea and then started to tidy the house because Meg had said that she would like to visit her sister at Ottery. She came downstairs presently and cooked their breakfast, and they ate it together in the kitchen while Podger emptied his saucer under the table, then presently when they had washed up together, Tabitha went back upstairs to finish dressing. She put on the dress she had worn the last time she had gone to Chidlake—the one her stepmother had considered wasted upon her. Tabitha looked at herself in the mirror with a touch of defiance; it was a pretty dress and despite Mrs Crawley’s opinion, she intended to wear it. It was a soft shade of apricot, sleeveless and round-necked, exactly the right kind of dress for such a lovely day, and as if he had known she needed reassuring about it, when she went downstairs Marius, who had just arrived, said ‘Hullo, Tabitha, that’s a pretty dress, and it suits you,’ which remark caused her to smile with relief and pleasure, for Marius wasn’t a man to flatter—at least, she amended to herself, she didn’t think that he would flatter her, so that his remark was all the more to be appreciated.
They stopped at Meg’s insistence and had coffee at her sister’s house and by the time they had walked round the garden, admired the pet rabbits, the goat and a great many hens and chicks who lived in the paddock at the back of the cottage, it was almost midday.
‘What time did you say you would arrive?’ asked Tabitha anxiously.
‘Twelvish—my dear girl, do relax, we’re almost there.’
It was true, they were—they flashed past All Hallows school and very shortly afterwards Marius turned the Bentley down the familiar lane which led to Chidlake. When they came to the bend at the top of the hill, Tabitha said: ‘Please will you stop for a moment, Marius—it’s such a lovely view.’ It was; the sun sparkled over Lyme Bay highlighting the cliffs until they faded, miles away, into distant Portland Bill. Nearer, the village lay half hidden below them with Chidlake a little above it, old and tranquil in the sun. Tabitha sighed without knowing it and Marius said quickly: ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I miss this in Holland—it’s lovely there too, but in quite a different way.’ He talked casually about his own country as they slipped down the hill and through the gates, giving her time to collect herself, and when he helped her out of the car he kept a hand tucked beneath her elbow, and that was how Lilith, running out of the house, saw them. Before she could speak he said cheerfully: ‘Hullo, you beautiful girl—I’ve brought Tabitha with me. She’s been working much too hard and she needs a little of your sea air.’
Tabitha watched Lilith’s face crumble into sheer rage and then quickly rearrange itself into a welcoming smile as she slipped an arm into Marius’s, looking up into his face with a charmingly proprietorial air.
‘Marius, how lovely to see you!’ She turned to Tabitha, the smile still upon her lips but temper still blazing in her beautiful eyes.
‘You too, Tabby—such a surprise to see you. You come so seldom, and then only after we’ve begged and begged.’
Tabitha thought of several retorts to this remark; they were all quite unsuitable, so she kept silent, contenting herself by freeing her arm from Marius’s grasp; it was like trying to prise herself loose from an iron vice and just as impossible, for his hand tightened its gentle grip as they walked, the three of them, into the house.
Mrs Crawley came out of the drawing room as they went in, a welcoming smile already upon her face. Like her daughter she kept the smile there even when she saw Tabitha and said lightly: ‘Marius, how very nice—and Tabby too.’ She looked at her then, and Tabitha saw how cold her stepmother’s eyes had become. ‘A pity you didn’t let me know you were coming—so awkward for lunch….’
‘My fault,’ declared Marius instantly. He still had hold of Tabitha’s arm and now she was glad of its reassuring grip. ‘Tabitha didn’t like the idea of taking you by surprise, but I overruled her—after all, she is one of the family.’ He smiled as he spoke and looked placidly at the three of them. ‘Besides, she has some news for you—it seemed a good opportunity to tell you.’
‘News?’ queried Mrs Crawley sharply, and looked so apprehensive that Tabitha had a moment of wicked delight. ‘Well, do come in, and you shall tell us over drinks.’
She led the way into the drawing room, but before Tabitha could sit down she was sent off to the kitchen to tell the cook that there would be one more for lunch, and when she got back the drinks had been poured and Lilith was sitting with Marius on a settee at the far end of the room, and her stepmother was in her usual chair by the French windows. She said at once: ‘Come over here, Tabitha, and tell me your news. Your drink is on the table, bring it with you.’
Tabitha started across the room, wishing with all her heart that she had never come. Lilith and Marius were too far away to join in any conversation she might have with Mrs Crawley; she would have to tell her without any help from Marius, and she could imagine just what her stepmother would say. She had reached the table when Marius spoke.
‘As it is I who persuaded you in the first place, Tabitha, I think I should have a share in the telling.’ He had got up as he spoke and she found him beside her. As he piloted her across to where Mrs Crawley was sitting he looked over his shoulder and said: ‘Come on, Lilith,’ and she got up reluctantly and joined them too. Presently when everyone was settled again, Mrs Crawley asked: ‘Well?’
Marius was at his most casual. ‘There are two old friends of mine in Tabitha’s ward, on the mend with broken legs. They are coming to stay with me for a week or so in Holland. Mr Raynard’s wife will accompany us and we have persuaded Tabitha to come too and keep an eye on the two invalids.’
Lilith, who had arranged herself gracefully on a chair close to Marius, sat up. ‘What? But she can’t—she’s got her ward to look after.’
If Marius found her remark strange he gave no sign but said merely:
‘That is all arranged. Tabby is due for a holiday anyway—it won’t be all work, you know.’
Lilith rounded on Tabitha. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ she wanted to know, and Tabitha, who had been sitting as still as a mouse, holding her tongue because she thought that Marius would deal with the situation far better than she could, thought she had better answer.
‘I’ve only known for a short time and I didn’t think you would be interested.’
Mrs Crawley gave a tinkling laugh. ‘Tabby, how sly of you!’ She said it nastily, and Tabitha went pink and bit her lip for fear her mounting temper should escape and spoil everything. Marius came to her rescue.
‘Not sly,’ his voice was bland. ‘We saw no point in telling
anyone until we had settled everything—anyway, she made the journey here today especially to tell you.’ He smiled across at Lilith, apparently unnoticing of her sulky face. ‘I knew you’d be delighted, Lilith—I seem to remember you saying how you hoped that Tabitha would have some fun this summer.’ He got up and went and sat on the arm of her chair. ‘After all, you get more than your fair share of that, don’t you? But I suppose that’s natural with a face like yours. It seems to me that there is always a queue of eager young men waiting to fulfil your lightest wish. A mere middle-aged bachelor like myself doesn’t stand a chance.’
Tabitha watched Lilith’s good humour return under Marius’s skilful flattery while she attempted to deal with her own very mixed feelings. To begin with she was sure that Marius’s remarks about Lilith’s concern for her fun were pure fiction and she didn’t much like being designated as a hard-working woman in need of a holiday, and did he have to flatter Lilith quite so outrageously? She looked up and caught his eyes on her and could have sworn that there was a gleam of laughter in them. But he said nothing more and it seemed as though her stepmother and Lilith had accepted his explanation, though grudgingly. She watched while he got to his feet and pulled Lilith out of her chair, saying: ‘Anyway, now I’m here, come and show me the garden; something must have grown since I was here last.’
Tabitha watched them go outside, arm-in-arm. Probably the moment they were out of sight, she thought bitterly, Marius would kiss her stepsister. A pain which was almost physical filled her chest so that she caught her breath with its sharpness; she had been unhappy for a long time, but this was a different kind of unhappiness; she wanted to get up and run away from it. Instead, she turned an interested, rather pale face to her stepmother who was speaking. ‘They make a delightful pair,’ she observed complacently, ‘Lilith couldn’t do better for herself. I hear he’s very rich and well connected, and being so much older than Lilith she will be able to do exactly as she likes with him.’