by Betty Neels
They went back to the cottage for tea and Matilda displayed her new clothes to Mrs Chubb, delighted to be told that she looked a fair treat.
They went for a walk the next morning because she wanted one more look at the country round her. It was unlikely that she would visit Miss Lovell again; she had loved every minute of her stay with the two elderly ladies, and their kindness and gentle spoiling and cheerful talk. She would miss Taffy too, for after a cautious day or so he had become her firm friend.
They spent the afternoon round the fire after Matilda had phoned her mother to tell her that she would be home the next day. Mrs Paige had sounded peevish and expressed the hope that Matilda would settle down to a normal life once more. Matilda had gone to her room to pack then, wishing with all her heart that she weren’t leaving in the morning.
She had asked hesitantly how she was to return and when Aunt Kate had said that she would take her Matilda had suggested that she might get a bus. It would be an awkward journey as she would have to change at Taunton but that was preferable to Aunt Kate wasting a morning taking her back. But Aunt Kate shook her head at the idea. ‘Besides, I want to see Henry again.’
So after breakfast Matilda put on the new coat and hat and went along to the kitchen to say goodbye to Mrs Chubb and give her the scarf she had bought for her. She was hugged and kissed for it and told to be a good girl and not to work too hard. She went in search of Aunt Kate and gave her the little china figure they had both admired in a shop at Somerton; she made her thank-you speech too because there might not be a chance to do that once they got back to Much Winterlow. She was hugged and kissed once more and only then noticed that Aunt Kate was still without her hat and coat, but before she had time to ask about that the door opened and Dr Lovell came in.
His good morning was genial; he kissed his aunt and then turned to study Matilda.
‘Ah—our Miss Paige, fully restored to good health,’ he observed. ‘You feel quite well?’
So she was to be Miss Paige once more. The warm friendliness while she had been ill had been temporary. She said woodenly, ‘Yes, thank you, Doctor; I feel quite well again.’
As indeed she was, nicely plumped out and with a pretty colour in her cheeks. The doctor had seen the coat and the fetching little hat too. She looked pretty, but not as pretty as when she had been sweeping up leaves in some shapeless garment with her hair blowing all over the place.
‘You must have coffee before you go,’ said Aunt Kate into the silence, and expertly on cue Mrs Chubb came in with the coffee tray.
‘Oh,’ said Matilda, ‘but I thought I was going back with you, Miss Lovell?’
She sounded so disappointed that the doctor said quickly, ‘I’m afraid you will have to put up with me. You would like to go straight home, I expect?’
‘Yes, please. It’s very kind of you to take me.’ She added anxiously, ‘I’m not wasting your morning?’
‘Not at all.’ He sounded casually polite. His morning, he reflected, was something he had been looking forward to.
‘Have you seen anything of Lucilla?’ asked Aunt Kate.
‘No. No, I haven’t.’ He hadn’t thought about her either. ‘I’ve been quite busy; the flu’s over but it is quite a busy time of year. I’ve been lucky enough to borrow a nurse from the Taunton health centre but she can’t wait to get back there.’ He smiled at Matilda. ‘We have all missed you and I’m sure your mother and father will be delighted to have you home again.’
Matilda said politely, ‘Yes, I think they will,’ and fell silent for lack of anything else to say. Then, after a pause, she added, ‘I shall be glad to come back to work.’
‘And we shall all be glad to see you again.’
They left presently and since the doctor didn’t seem disposed to talk Matilda sat beside him and didn’t utter a word. It didn’t take long to reach Much Winterlow, which in the circumstances was a good thing.
He drove straight through the village and along the road to the cottage, and if Matilda had expected a warm welcome she didn’t get it.
Her mother met them at the door. ‘You didn’t do any shopping on the way?’ she asked crossly. ‘There’s nothing much in the house. You’ll have to go this afternoon.’
Mrs Paige became all at once charming. ‘Forgive me, Doctor, but my nerves are quite shattered. I’ve struggled along somehow but I’m exhausted.’
She led the way into the sitting room. ‘Your father’s in the study. You had better go and see him, Matilda. Doctor, come and sit down. It will be a treat for me to have someone to talk to.’
He followed her into the room and sat down. A tiresome woman, selfish to the bone; he had seen Matilda’s face and it had left him strangely disquieted.
‘Mr Paige keeps well?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes. As long as he has his books and his writing he is happy.’ Mrs Paige gave a sigh. ‘He is a good deal older than I.’ Her smile held a calculated wistfulness. ‘I do miss the busy social life I had…’
‘You will find that there is plenty of social life in the village. And you can safely go there now the flu is over.’
He stood up as Matilda came into the room. ‘If your mother needs some shopping done you had better come back with me.’
Which made sense. Matilda nodded. ‘Thank you. What do you want me to buy, Mother?’
Her mother said peevishly, ‘Everything. There’s almost nothing in the house; I knew you would be back today.’ She added, ‘You’ll have enough money with you…’
‘No, I haven’t.’ Matilda looked guilty, thinking of the coat and dress she had bought, and as though her mother had read her thoughts she said, ‘Well, not surprising, I suppose. You’ve spent it all on yourself.’
Matilda had gone very pink in the face, aware of the doctor standing there. She said, ‘If you could give me a list and some money, Mother.’
She didn’t look higher than the doctor’s waistcoat. ‘Please don’t wait; the walk to the shop will be pleasant after sitting in the car.’
The pink got deeper. ‘What I mean is—the car’s most comfortable, I enjoyed the drive and thank you for bringing me, but I’m sure you must want to get home…’
He took pity on her. ‘It’s my day off and I have nothing to do but please myself. So we will go back to the village and if your mother can spare you for an hour or so you must have a word with Mrs Inch and Kitty.’
‘I’ve no time to make a list,’ said Mrs Paige crossly. ‘You’ll have to bring whatever you can think of.’
She took money from her handbag. ‘And bring the receipt back.’
Matilda could think of nothing to say as they drove back to Mrs Simpkins’ shop. The doctor had got out and opened the door before she had a chance to do it. He went into the shop with her too and wandered around looking at the shelves while she made her purchases. The money her mother had given her wouldn’t go far—tea and sugar, butter, streaky bacon and eggs, a tin of the cheapest salmon, cheese, macaroni. Matilda, after totting everything up in her head, added a packet of biscuits. There was just enough money over for three lamb chops.
Mrs Simpkins kept up a cheerful flow of talk as she assembled the food, but that didn’t prevent the doctor, who had excellent hearing, from knowing exactly what Matilda had bought.
There was something wrong somewhere, he reflected. Mr Paige would have a pension, surely, and he must have received some kind of financial assistance when he’d retired, or at least had capital of some sort. Obviously it was necessary for Matilda to get a job so that she might be independent of her parents, but it looked as though she was the breadwinner. And, now he came to think about it, Mrs Milton had mentioned one day that Mrs Paige put them all to shame at the bridge afternoons. ‘So smart,’ she had explained in her kind voice. ‘But of course she has good clothes—I admire a woman who takes such pains with her appearance. And that costs money but her husband is devoted to her and she lacks for nothing. So nice to see in a middle-aged couple, don’t you think?’
/> He hadn’t thought much about it at the time but now he frowned down at a stack of washing powder. It was none of his business, of course, but it seemed to him that Matilda was entitled to spend every penny she earned on herself if she wished to do so. And heaven knows, he thought wryly, the girl’s got no looks to speak of and a little pampering would be an improvement.
He looked at her now, stowing groceries into plastic bags. There was no sign of the happiness he had seen on her face that morning at Aunt Kate’s. But neither was there discontent. She might not be a beauty but he had to admit there was something very restful about Matilda.
He took the bags from her, bade Mrs Simpkins good day and led the way across the street to his house.
As he ushered her into the hall Matilda said, ‘I’ll only stay for a minute. I should get home and I’m sure you have things to do…’
He didn’t answer and Mrs Inch came into the hall then.
‘Bless me, miss, you’re a sight for sore eyes, to be sure, and it’s a pleasure to see you looking so well.’ And when Kitty followed her the pair of them hovered over her, beaming.
Presently the doctor said, ‘Could we have lunch earlier than usual, Mrs Inch? Miss Paige has to get back to her home.’
‘Give me ten minutes,’ declared Mrs Inch. ‘Let Kitty take your coat and hat, miss, and you and the doctor can have a cosy chat until I’m ready.’
Mrs Inch bustled off and Matilda gave her things to the waiting Kitty. It was only when they were in the drawing room, sitting by the fire with Sam between them, that she said quietly, ‘I would rather not have stayed. If I had known…’
Sitting in his chair, completely at ease, he smiled at her.
‘We have been working together for some weeks now, haven’t we? Isn’t it time we got to know each other a little?’
‘Why?’ asked Matilda.
‘I think that we might like each other better if we made the effort.’
Which wasn’t the answer she had expected and one which she found difficult to reply to. What would he say, she reflected, if she were to tell him that she loved him, had fallen in love with him right from the start? Probably give her the sack, she thought ruefully.
‘Why are you smiling?’ he wanted to know.
She shook her head. ‘I’m glad the flu epidemic is over. It was all a bit of a rush, wasn’t it? Have all your patients recovered?’
He accepted the change in conversation without comment.
‘Yes, I’m glad to say. You’ll find the surgery pretty busy, though. I take it you will come in on Monday morning?’
‘Yes, of course. It will be very nice to see everyone again.’
‘You enjoyed your stay with Aunt Kate?’
Her smile was enchanting. ‘Oh, yes. It was a most wonderful week. She is so kind, and so is Mrs Chubb. They spoilt me dreadfully.’
A little spoiling wouldn’t hurt, thought the doctor. He felt concern for her for it seemed that life at home wasn’t all it should be. A pretty woman, he thought, with a plain daughter and taking out her disappointment about that on the girl.
He took his phone from his pocket. ‘I’ll tell your mother you will be home shortly,’ he said. She heard the kindness in his voice and winced at it. His pity was the last thing she wanted; it was a pity that he had been there when she’d got home. She hoped that her mother would be nice on the phone, but it was difficult to tell for he spoke briefly and watching his face gave her no clue.
They had lunch presently: chicken soup not out of a tin; a vast ham on the bone which the doctor carved with a practised skill; a winter salad followed by a mincemeat tart and cream and then coffee.
Matilda enjoyed it all for she was hungry and saw no reason to pretend that she wasn’t. And the good food and the glass of wine he poured for her loosened her tongue so that she forgot to be shy and stiff.
The doctor, watching her and listening to her quiet voice, felt a vague stirring of something he had never felt before. He told himself that it was pity and knew that to be wrong. Matilda wasn’t to be pitied, nor would she ever accept it.
CHAPTER SIX
MATILDA was driven home by the doctor, but he didn’t stop this time. Which was a good thing for her mother was waiting for her, brimming over with ill temper. She held it in check while the doctor carried the groceries into the kitchen, thanking him with a charming smile which turned to thin-lipped annoyance the moment he had gone.
‘You should have come straight back here, Matilda. How can you be so selfish, knowing that your father and I were depending on you to bring the groceries?’
‘Dr Lovell did say that he was taking me to see Mrs Inch and Kitty, Mother. Haven’t you been to Mrs Simpkins’ while I’ve been away?’
‘I phoned—a boy brought my order. You didn’t expect me to go into the village with all this flu about? I told her I would settle the bills later.’
Matilda started to unpack the bags. ‘Mother, Father gives you housekeeping money; what has happened to it?’
Mrs Paige rounded on her. ‘Don’t you dare to criticise me, Matilda. There are three mouths to feed on a pittance.’
‘But, Mother, I pay my share so it’s two mouths, isn’t it? And we both know that there isn’t a lot of money but there is enough if we’re careful.’
‘Am I not to be considered? Living in this dull little place with no friends and nothing to do, nowhere to go…’
‘Well, you go to play bridge with Mrs Milton and her friends, Mother, and she did invite you to help out with the church flowers and the Christmas bazaar. You’ll meet lots of people if only you would go to the village sometimes—not just the people you meet at bridge.’
‘I shall go and lie down,’ declared Mrs Paige. ‘You’ve given me a headache; I quite wish you hadn’t come home.’
Matilda put away the food and went to see her father. He looked up from his writing, pleased to see her.
‘It is very pleasant to have you home again, my dear. Your mother will be so relieved. She has had so much to do; I only wish that I could do more for her. She deserves a holiday; I must see if I can manage to send her to stay with one of her friends for a few days. She misses them so much.’
He sighed. ‘She still thinks of the vicarage as home…’
‘Well, perhaps we could manage it between us, Father; it would only be the train fare and the bus to Taunton.’
‘She would need money in her purse; I couldn’t send her away empty-handed.’
He shuffled the papers on his desk. ‘There is a bill which I must pay then perhaps she could go in a week or so.’ He said worriedly, ‘I don’t know where the money goes, my dear. I must be a bad manager.’
‘No, you’re not, Father; it’s just taking time to adjust to living on your pension.’
He had found the bill and she took it from him and said cheerfully, ‘Well, we could see to this; are there any more?’
He sifted through the muddle. There were. Her mother had made no bones about owing the milkman, the newsagent’s, the butcher who came twice a week to the village. She had phoned the orders and now, after a month, the bills were coming in. They didn’t add up to a great deal but Matilda thought unhappily that they could have been paid with the money she had spent on her coat and dress. Common sense told her that she had no need to feel guilty, but she did.
‘If you will see to these, Father,’ said Matilda, ‘there will be enough money for Mother to go away for a few days.’ And when he looked doubtful she said, ‘I don’t need next week’s pay packet…’
Christmas was coming, she reflected; there would be presents to buy, cards to send, extra food. Perhaps if her mother had a few days away she would settle down.
Although the flu epidemic was over, the waiting room was quickly filled on Monday morning: nasty coughs, bad chests, earache—all the minor ailments which made life harder than it needed to be. But everyone was glad to see Matilda, glad to see her well again, anxious to know if she felt really better.
Not
quite everyone, though. The doctor, arriving punctually, wished her a cool good morning and made no mention of her health. She was back on her feet again and that was that. And when the last patient had gone he put his head round the door to tell her that he was going to Taunton.
‘The answering machine’s on and I should be back by early afternoon. Mrs Inch will bring you coffee. Lock up, if you will.’
At least he hadn’t called her Miss Paige—he hadn’t called her anything.
Mrs Inch had a cup of coffee with her.
‘Rushing off like that,’ she grumbled, and offered Matilda a biscuit. ‘Swallowing his coffee in the kitchen in such a rush. Give himself an ulcer he will. He had a phone call from that Miss Armstrong quite early this morning. I dare say he’s going to see her on his way to Taunton.’
Matilda said, ‘Quite likely, I dare say. She lives at North Curry, doesn’t she? And that’s only a mile or two away from Taunton.’
He would be there by now, she thought, and shut her mind to the thought. Being in love with someone was most unsatisfactory when they didn’t care a row of pins for you. Possibly one got used to that just as one got used to the small nagging pain of a corn. Not that she knew what that was like; she had pretty feet which gave her no trouble at all…
She called at Mrs Simpkins’ for some eggs, listened to that lady’s vivid description of her varicose veins with patient sympathy and then went home.
Her mother greeted her coldly; she wasn’t to be allowed to feel that she was forgiven, but her father, already busy at his desk, was delighted to see her.
‘I have been thinking of our little talk, my dear, and I think your suggestion concerning a little holiday for your mother is most acceptable. Needless to say, I am deeply grateful for your help. I promise you that once we have got our financial situation settled you will be repaid tenfold.’