A Happy Meeting. Betty Neels
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and rest and good care.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I shall take him back with me when I go to Holland.’
Her ordinary face was transformed by delight. ‘Oh, how absolutely super! I’m sure he’ll be a very handsome beast when he’s fully grown.’
The doctor concealed his doubts admirably. ‘I have no doubt of that.’
He put out a hand and engulfed hers in its firm grasp.
‘You’ll have to wash your hand,’ said Cressida in her sensible way, ‘it’s covered in polish.’ And then she added, ‘I hope you have a good journey home.’
After he had gone she sat in her bed, the epergne forgotten, feeling lonely and somehow bereft.
Beyond registering his opinion that Cressida should have her ankle X-rayed, the doctor didn’t waste time with Mrs Preece. He pleaded an urgent engagement and drove away.
In the village he stopped, enquired as to where the doctor lived and presented himself at the surgery door. Dr Braddock was on the point of leaving on his rounds.
‘Van der Linus…’ he said. ‘I know that name. You wrote an article in the Lancet last month about neutropenia—a most interesting theory. Come in, come in, I’m delighted to meet you.’
‘I’ve been poaching on your preserves,’ said Dr van der Linus. ‘If I might explain…’
Dr Braddock heard him out. ‘I’ll go this morning. I know—we all know—that things aren’t right at the Old Rectory. Little Cressida is a dear child but one cannot interfere—though I will do my best to get her into hospital for a few days for she will never be able to get the proper rest she needs if she is at home…’
‘It puts me in mind of Cinderella and her stepmother,’ observed Dr van der Linus.
Dr Braddock nodded. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it, in this day and age? There is obviously some reason which is keeping Cressida at home but she isn’t going to tell anyone what it is.’
Dr van der Linus went on his way presently; he was going to be late for lunch at the Colliers’. As indeed he was, but he was an old friend and readily forgiven and moreover Jenny was an amusing companion. He told himself that he had done all that he could for Cressida Preece; she was a grown woman and should be capable of arranging her own life.
On his way back to his grandmother’s house he reflected that she had seemed quite content with her lot. Probably things would improve. He frowned, aware that he was finding it difficult to forget her. ‘Which is absurd,’ he muttered. ‘I can’t even remember what she looks like.’
CHAPTER TWO
CRESSIDA, putting a final polish on the table silver, was astonished when Moggy opened the door to admit Dr Braddock.
He wished them a good morning, patted her on the shoulder and signified his intention of examining her ankle.
‘However did you know about it?’ asked Cressida and tried not to wince as he prodded it gently.
‘Dr van der Linus very correctly informed me. How fortunate that he should have found you, my dear. I couldn’t better the strapping myself but you must have it X-rayed. I’ve got my car outside. I’ll run you in to Yeovil now and get it done…’
‘Must you? I mean, Stepmother’s got a dinner party this evening…’
‘There is no need for her to come with you,’ said Dr Braddock testily. He turned to Miss Mogford. ‘Do you suppose we could give her a chair downstairs? Just get her into a dressing-gown.’
‘How shall I get back here?’ asked Cressida sensibly.
‘Well, I have to come home, don’t I?’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll go and see your stepmother while Miss Mogford gets you ready, and don’t waste time.’
‘The silver,’ said Cressida urgently, watching Moggy bundling it up, ‘I haven’t quite finished it.’
‘Pooh,’ said Miss Mogford, ‘that’s of no importance. Here’s your dressing-gown.’
Doctor Braddock came back presently and between them he and Miss Mogford carried Cressida down to the hall and out of the door, into his car. Mrs Preece came after them, on the verge of tears. ‘What am I to do?’ she asked pathetically. ‘There’s the table to arrange and the drinks and the flowers to do. Really, Cressida, I do think you’re being very selfish…’
No one answered her. The doctor and Moggy were too occupied in conveying Cressida as painlessly as possible and Cressida was gritting her teeth against the pain.
Dr Braddock drove off and as soon as she had control of her voice again she asked, ‘They won’t keep me long? I really should get back to help as quickly as I can. If I could be back by lunchtime? You’re awfully kind having given me a lift, Dr Braddock, but I expect you have to come back home for lunch.’
She wasn’t back for lunch, however; instead she found herself in one of the side-wards, comfortably in bed with a cradle over the injured ankle and the prospect of several days’ rest.
‘I really can’t,’ she explained to the cheerful house doctor who came to see her after she was warded. ‘I haven’t anything with me and there is a great deal I must do at home…’
‘Well, if you don’t rest that foot for a few days you won’t be doing anything at all at home or anywhere else. Dr Braddock is going to call and see your stepmother on his way home. I dare say she will come and see you and bring you anything you need.’
The very last thing that lady would do, but there was no point in saying so. Cressida murmured suitably and since the bed was comfortable and she had had an irksome morning she closed her eyes and took a nap.
Miss Mogford came that evening, carrying a small holdall with what she considered necessary for Cressida’s comfort while she was in hospital.
Cressida was delighted to see her, but worried too. ‘Moggy, however did you get away? It’s the dinner party too… is Stepmother very cross?’
‘Livid,’ said Miss Mogford, succinctly, ‘but Dr Braddock was quite sharp with her, told her she was responsible for you and I don’t know what else—I just happened to be passing through the hall and the door wasn’t quite closed—so when he’d gone she phoned a catering firm and they’re there now, seeing to everything. She told me to bring you what you needed here and I got the baker’s van to bring me.’
‘How will you get back?’
‘The van’s going back in an hour—the driver’s got the day off tomorrow.’
‘I don’t know how long I’m here for…’
‘I heard Dr Braddock say a couple of days, so you have a nice rest, Miss Cressida, and you’ll have to take things easy when you come home.’
‘Is my stepmother very annoyed?’
‘Well, she’s put out,’ said Miss Mogford, uttering the understatement of a lifetime.
It was surprising what two days at the hospital did for Cressida. Of course there were the painful physiotherapy sessions, but for a good deal of each day she sat, the injured ankle resting on a stool, reading the discarded magazines and newspapers of the other patients, racing through the romantic fiction the lady from the hospital library was kind enough to bring her. She didn’t turn up her unassuming nose at the food either; by the end of the second day she had colour in her cheeks and had put on a much-needed pound or two.
It was after breakfast on the following morning that the orthopaedic registrar came to tell her that she was fit enough to go home. ‘You must wear an elastic stocking for a couple of weeks and keep off your feet as much as possible, and mind you rest the ankle properly. Sister phoned your stepmother and she assures us that you will be well looked after. We’ll arrange for the hospital car service to pick you up after