An Innocent Bride. Betty Neels
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curb her activities as much as possible. Dr Peters will be keeping an eye on her and will keep you up to date. Now, as to diet…’
Katrina listened carefully, and the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she didn’t dislike him after all. She didn’t like him, but only because she knew nothing about him, and she was grateful to him…
The professor glanced at his watch, whistled the dogs, and they went back to the house to have lunch. Aunt Thirza wasn’t mentioned again. Instead he led the talk to Katrina’s own interests, slipping in questions about her life so that by the time they left the table he had a very good idea of it. And pretty dull too, he reflected, watching her pour coffee into the delicate porcelain coffee cups. She might be buried alive in the country, but she had the potential for a career of some sort. He asked abruptly, ‘How old are you, Katrina?’
‘Twenty-four. Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a girl how old she is?’
‘I stand corrected. Unfortunately it is a question I have to ask all my patients—it has become a bad habit.’
‘Oh, well, I don’t mind. How old are you, Professor?’
He laughed, and she thought that he looked ten years younger. ‘Thirty-nine. Middle-aged.’
‘Rubbish, no one is middle-aged these days. You were fifteen when I was born…’
‘You had a happy childhood, Katrina, for those first twelve years?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’She wanted to ask him if he had been happy as a boy, but she didn’t dare. She mustn’t allow herself to get too friendly with him, although she didn’t think that there was much fear of that. He would never allow it.
Presently he said, ‘We should be going,’ and she got to her feet at once, anxious not to outstay her welcome.
‘It was kind of you to ask me to come here,’ she told him. ‘I hope I haven’t spoilt your day.’ And, when Peach came into the hall, she said, ‘Will you tell Mrs Peach that lunch was lovely? I wish I could cook like that.’
Indeed it had been lovely. Potted shrimps and brown bread and butter, cut wafer-thin, rack of lamb with tiny new potatoes, and rhubarb fool to follow with clotted cream. The professor certainly lived well. Sitting beside him in the car, she wondered if he earned a great deal of money, and thought he probably did. Dr Peters had said that he was highly regarded, and of course it must cost a great deal to train as a doctor. She voiced her thoughts out loud.
‘Does it cost a lot of money to train as a doctor?’
If he was surprised by her question he didn’t show it.
‘Yes, but it isn’t only the money; it’s the years of hard work.’
‘Have you been a doctor for a long time?’
‘I qualified when I was twenty-three…’
‘But you took more exams, I expect?’
‘Any number.’
‘But you’ve got there, haven’t you? I mean, to the top of your particular tree?’
‘Perhaps, but there is always something more to learn.’ He glanced at her. ‘Have you ever wished to train for a profession, Katrina?’
‘Oh, yes. You know how it is when you leave school; you’re full of ideas. But I’m happy with Aunt Thirza, and I’d hate to live in a town—a big town.’
He drew up outside the cottage, got out and opened her door. The little house looked charming in the afternoon sun, and Betsy was sitting by the door, waiting for them. He took the key from its hiding place, unlocked the door and they all went in.
Katrina let out a breath. ‘How awful if Aunt Thirza had been here. Whatever would I have told her?’
‘Oh, I would have thought of something feasible before you had a chance to blurt out the truth. Shall we have tea?’
‘Is there time?’She was putting the kettle on the gas ring as she spoke. She suddenly didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts.
They drank their tea presently, not saying much and not mentioning Aunt Thirza either, and soon the professor got into his car and drove away. Katrina had thanked him for her lunch, for digging the garden, for his advice, and he had put up a large hand and begged her to say no more, so that she had the lowering feeling that she had been too effusive.
But she had other things to think about. While she got the supper ready she went over everything that the professor had told her; she mustn’t forget a word of it…
Aunt Thirza returned, full of good spirits, and Dr Peters stayed for a while, chatting about their day. ‘We must do it more often,’ he observed. ‘You and Mary have much in common, and she’s absolutely delighted that you’ve agreed to help with the church bazaar.’ He glanced at Katrina. ‘I suppose you’ll be expected to give a hand, Katrina?’
‘I’m behind the scenes this year, cutting sandwiches and serving teas.’
Over supper Aunt Thirza was full of plans. ‘I do so enjoy the summer months,’she explained. ‘Such a lot going on—fêtes and bazaars and tennis tournaments, and I hear that the church school is putting on a play at the end of term. More than enough to keep us busy.’
She put down her knife and fork. ‘I had such a splendid lunch I’m really not hungry. Did you get the digging done?’
Katrina said that yes, she had. Well, it wasn’t quite a fib put that way. ‘There’s still a lot to do. Everything’s growing nicely, though. We need some rain.’
It was surprising how difficult it was to talk about mundane things when what she really wanted to do was to fling her arms round her aunt and have a good howl.
The days slipped away in the orderly routine which Aunt Thirza had established when she retired and had no intention of altering. Katrina did her best to check the old lady’s more active interests, but it wasn’t easy. Indeed, Aunt Thirza had remarked once or twice that anyone would think that she was ill.
‘Those pills I take will soon put me back on my feet,’ she observed. ‘There are any number of things which I wish to do this summer.’
Since there was no gainsaying her, Katrina gave up urging her to eat the tasty meals she cooked, and drink the milk Dr Peters had told her would improve her condition, although she managed in a dozen ways to take over more of the household chores, pointing out that her aunt was busy enough with the various functions being organised.
But Aunt Thirza wasn’t getting better. Katrina could see that she was paler and easily tired, although she would never admit it, and Dr Peters had told her that her latest blood test showed no improvement.
‘But it’s not worse?’
He said cautiously, ‘Let us say that it is no better.’Which to Katrina’s ears didn’t sound like an answer at all.
They were to go to St Aldrick’s very shortly. Aunt Thirza had had a letter from the professor’s secretary, asking her to attend his clinic.
‘You’ll come with me,’ said Aunt Thirza, ‘and if he doesn’t keep me hanging around for too long we will have a look at the shops. I need some new teatowels—John Lewis will do nicely.’
It was already warm by the time they set out, and when they reached the hospital Aunt Thirza was tired and ill tempered.
‘This is nonsense,’ she told Katrina. ‘I’m sure there is no need for Professor Glenville to see me again. I feel perfectly well except for this tiredness, and that’s to be expected when you are as old as I am.’
‘You’re only seventy-something,’Katrina reminded her. ‘I dare say this will be the last time, just to check that everything is going according to plan.’
She sat quietly and wondered if she would see the professor. It seemed unlikely, for