A Summer Idyll. Бетти Нилс
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on the other side of the green. When I’ve done my rounds I’ll send my housekeeper over to sit here while you have supper with me. No, don’t argue, it’ll give me a chance to explain your aunt’s case to you and discuss medicines and so on.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘About eight o’clock. Right?’
Phoebe nodded happily. If this was Aunt Kate’s little whipper-snapper then she liked him. She closed the door after him and went back to her cooking. Life was suddenly full of promise. She hadn’t thought of Basil even once.
CHAPTER TWO
AUNT KATE, while showing no gratitude for her supper, ate all of it, reminded Phoebe that she would have a glass of hot milk at nine o’clock precisely and told her grudgingly that she might go downstairs and eat her own meal. But first she needed her pillows shaken up, her spectacles, glass of water, and the local newspaper. Only then did she add: ‘At least your cooking is passable, and don’t forget my milk.’ She added: ‘I shall be perfectly all right for an hour or so. When you’ve cleared up you can unpack your things.’
‘Yes, Aunt Kate.’ Phoebe spoke mildly, her thoughts on supper.
She had had the forethought to leave the front door on the latch, and before she had done more than clear the tray, a thin elderly woman came quietly in. She was dressed in a thick skirt and a grey cardigan, which, with her pepper-and-salt hair cut severely short and her pale face, gave Phoebe the impression that she was looking at an etching. They shook hands and she changed her mind. Mrs Thirsk had the bluest eyes she had ever met, and when she smiled her whole face lit up.
‘Supper’s on the table, Miss…’
‘Call me. Phoebe, please, Mrs Thirsk.’
‘Phoebe.’ The smile came and went again. ‘But I’ll just see to these…’
‘You leave them. The doctor said you were to go straight over.’ She studied Phoebe’s small, too thin figure. ‘You look as though you could do with a good hot meal.’
‘Oh, I could—there’s been no time…’
‘And nothing in the house, I’ll be bound.’ Mrs Thirsk went to the sink and filled the bowl with water from the kettle. ‘I’ve brought my knitting,’ she stated. ‘Take your jacket, it’s chilly.’
Phoebe nodded, slung her cardigan over her shoulders and went out of the house, across the green, to tap on the solid wooden door of the doctor’s house. It was a good deal grander than her aunt’s, of white bricks, with a tiled roof and Elizabethan chimneypots to match and latticed windows. She stood back to get a better view just as the door was opened.
‘Come in,’ invited Dr Pritchard, ‘it’s rabbit stew with dumplings—one of Mrs Thirsk’s masterpieces.’
The hall was square, with a curved staircase to one side of it and several doors leading from it. The floor was of flagstones covered for the most part with rugs with a carved chest along one wall. A large black labrador pranced to meet Phoebe as she went in, sniffed her fist and barked cheerfully.
‘Beauty,’ said Dr Pritchard, ‘I hope you like dogs?’
‘Oh, yes, but I’ve never had one of my own.’ She gave him a rather shy smile. ‘I like cats too.’
‘In the kitchen,’ he said briefly, ‘a basket full of them; Venus has just had kittens.’
He pushed open one of the doors and she went past him into the sitting room, a low-ceilinged, beamed and cosily furnished room, with chairs pulled up to the log fire in the wide hearth.
‘You could do with a glass of sherry,’ stated the doctor, and handed her one before she could answer. ‘Do sit down.’
They didn’t talk much as they had their drinks, only a few questions and answers; how long was it since she had been there? How far was she with her training? Did she intend to resume that later on?
To all of which she replied a little vaguely, since she hadn’t really thought about it yet. And over supper the doctor kept the conversation on general topics while they ate with healthy appetites. It was only when they had carried the dishes to the kitchen, admired Venus and her kittens and taken the coffee tray into the sitting room that he started to tell her about Aunt Kate.
‘Of course, she can’t last out much longer,’ he explained. ‘She’s worn out and her heart is already weak. I’ve done what I can, but she refuses to go into hospital or a nursing home and the nurse I arranged for was given short shift. How about you? You’ve not had much to say so far.’
‘Well, I’ve not had much time to think about it, have I? Phoebe’s quiet face was turned to the fire. ‘Of course, I shall stay even if Aunt Kate dislikes it, and she will in a few days, even though she insisted on my coming. She’s never liked anyone in the family and I’m the only one left now. She says it’s my duty.’
She glanced at the doctor watching her intently. ‘There’s nothing else to do,’ she added simply. ‘But I’d much rather not.’
‘Any ties?’ he asked idly, and when she looked puzzled. ‘Boy-friends and so forth?’
Phoebe went pink. ‘No.’ She had the urge to tell him all about Basil and how coming to Aunt Kate’s had solved that problem for her, but after all, she had only just met him. When she didn’t say anything he said slowly: ‘Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it? Now, as to treatment…’
He was all at once the doctor.
‘When he had finished she said: ‘I’ll do my best, Dr Pritchard. Do you come every day to see Aunt Kate?’
‘Oh, yes. Just a quick check up, you know.’ He smiled at her very kindly. ‘And don’t forget to pass on any problems, however small.’
It seemed the right moment to go and he made no effort to keep her, but walked across the green to her aunt’s door and waited until Mrs Thirsk opened it, said a few brief words to Phoebe and went back with her. Phoebe, closing the door slowly, watched them go, comforted by the fact that they were within shouting distance.
Aunt Kate was sitting up in bed reading. As Phoebe went in she looked up and asked: ‘My milk—is it ready? It’s more than time—and I have some pills to take.’
‘Yes, Aunt, I’ll fetch the milk now and your pills. Is there anything I can do for you before you have them?’
Aunt Kate rapped out a list of small wants. ‘And mind you lock up properly,’ she ended breathlessly ‘I never trusted that other creature.’ She fell into a fit of coughing and finally gasped crossly: ‘For heaven’s sake, Phoebe, don’t just stand there!’
It took almost an hour to settle Aunt Kate for the night. When she was at last satisfied that everything had been done to her satisfaction, she lay back against her pillows, allowed Phoebe to shade the bedside light and declared herself ready for sleep. ‘And don’t forget that I like my tea at seven o’clock,’ she commanded as Phoebe bade her goodnight.
There were chores to do downstairs, but presently she locked up and went to her room where she unpacked and undressed. The room looked better already with her own things scattered round it. Tomorrow she would get some flowers and look in the cupboard on the landing and see if there was a more colourful bedspread.
Aunt Kate was asleep, looking old and frail, so that Phoebe, peeping round the door, felt a pang of real pity. With any luck, she would sleep the night through. Phoebe crept into the bathroom on the other side of the landing and turned on the old-fashioned geyser and presently sank into a hot bath. The day had been long and eventful and she was tired. It was an effort to get herself out and into her bed, and once there she was asleep at once.
She was used to getting up early. She was downstairs in the kitchen in her dressing gown making tea when Aunt Kate rang her bell. Phoebe picked up the tea tray and hurried upstairs, to find the old lady irritable and impatient.
‘Still