Always And Forever (17 page)

‘Not until you want me to,' said Amabel. ‘And by then you will have become so much better that you won't need
anyone.' She smiled across the table at the old lady. ‘Mrs Twitchett has made your favourite pudding. Now, there is someone you would never wish to be without!'

‘She has been with me for years. Oliver, your Mrs Bates is a splendid cook, is she not? And Bates? He still runs the place for you?'

‘My right hand,' said the doctor. ‘And as soon as you are well enough I shall drive you up to town and you can sample some of Mrs Bates's cooking.'

Lady Haleford needed her after-lunch nap.

‘Stay for tea?' she begged him. ‘Keep Amabel company. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about…'

‘I'm afraid that I must get back.' He glanced at his watch. ‘I'll say goodbye now.'

When Amabel came downstairs again he had gone.

Which was only to be expected, Amabel told herself, but she would have liked to have said goodbye. To have explained…

But how did one explain that, since one had fallen in love with someone already engaged to someone else, meeting again would be pointless. And she had lost a friend…

Later that day Lady Haleford, much refreshed by her nap, observed, ‘A pity Oliver had to return so soon.' She darted a sharp glance at Amabel. ‘You get on well together?'

‘Yes,' said Amabel, and tried to think of something to add but couldn't.

‘He's a good man.'

‘Yes,' said Amabel again. ‘Shall I unpick that knitting for you, Lady Haleford?'

The old lady gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Yes, Amabel,
and then we will have a game of cards. That will distract our thoughts.'

Amabel, surveying her future during a wakeful night, wondered what she should do, but as events turned out she had no need to concern herself with that.

It was several days after Oliver's visit that she had a phone call. She had just come in with Cyril, after his early-morning walk, and, since Nelly and Mrs Twitchett were both in the kitchen, she answered it from the phone in the hall.

‘Is that you, Amabel?' Her stepfather's voice was agitated. ‘Listen, you must come home at once. Your mother's ill—she's been in hospital and they've sent her home and there's no one to look after her.'

‘What was wrong? Why didn't you let me know that she was ill?'

‘It was only pneumonia. I thought they'd keep her there until she was back to normal. But here she is, in bed most of the day, and I've enough to do without nursing her as well.'

‘Haven't you any help?'

‘Oh, there's a woman who comes in to clean and cook. Don't tell me to hire a nurse; it's your duty to come home and care for your mother. And I don't want any excuses. You're her daughter, remember.'

‘I'll come as soon as I can,' said Amabel, and took Cyril to the kitchen.

Mrs Twitchett looked at her pale face. ‘Something wrong? Best tell us.'

It was a great relief to tell someone. Mrs Twitchett and Nelly heard her out.

‘Have to go, won't you love?' Nelly's eye fell on Cyril
and Oscar, side by side in front of the Aga. ‘Will you take them with you?'

‘Oh, Nelly, I can't. He wanted to kill them both; that's why I left home.' Amabel sniffed back tears. ‘I'll have to take them to a kennel and a cattery.'

‘No need,' Mrs Twitchett said comfortably. ‘They'll stay here until you know what's what. Lady Haleford loves them both, and Nelly will see to Cyril's walks. Now, just you go and tell my lady what it's all about.'

Lady Haleford, sitting up in bed, sipping her early-morning tea and wide awake for once, said immediately, ‘Of course you must go home immediately. Don't worry about Cyril and Oscar. Get your mother well again and then come back to us. Will she want you to stay at home for good?'

Amabel shook her head. ‘No, I don't think so. You see, my stepfather doesn't like me.'

‘Then go and pack, and arrange your journey.'

T
HE
doctor had driven himself back to London, deep in thought. It was obvious that Miriam had said something to Amabel which had upset her and caused her to retire into her shell of coolness. But she hadn't sounded cool in the lane. The only way to discover the reason for this was to go and see Miriam. She had probably said something as a joke and Amabel had misunderstood her…

He had gone to see her the very next evening and found her entertaining friends. As she had come to meet him he had said, ‘I want to talk to you, Miriam.'

She, looking into his bland face and cold eyes, said at once, ‘Oh, impossible, Oliver—we're just about to go out for the evening.'

‘You can join your friends later. It is time we had a talk, Miriam, and what better time than now?'

She pouted. ‘Oh, very well.' Then she smiled enchantingly. ‘I was beginning to think that you had forgotten me.'

Presently, when everyone had gone, she sat down on a sofa and patted the cushion beside her. ‘My dear, this is nice—just the two of us.'

The doctor sat down in a chair opposite her.

‘Miriam, I have never been your dear. We have been out together, seen each other frequently at friends' houses, visited the theatre, but I must have made it plain to you that that was the extent of our friendship.' He asked abruptly, ‘What did you say to Amabel?'

Miriam's beautiful face didn't look beautiful any more. ‘So that's it—you've fallen in love with that dull girl! I guessed it weeks ago, when Dolores saw you in York. Her and her silly pets. Well, anyway, I've cooked your goose. I told her you were going to marry me, that you had helped her out of kindness and the sooner she disappeared the better…'

She stopped, because Oliver's expressionless face frightened her, and then when he got to his feet said, 'Oliver, don't go. She's no wife for you; you need someone like me, who knows everyone worth knowing, entertains all the right people, dresses well.'

Oliver walked to the door. ‘I need a wife who loves me and whom I love.' And he went away.

It was a pity, he reflected that his next few days were so crammed with patients, clinics and theatre lists that it was impossible for him to go and see Amabel. It was a temptation to phone her, but he knew that would be unsatisfactory. Besides, he wanted to see her face while they talked.

He drove back home and went to his study and started on the case notes piled on his desk, dismissing Amabel firmly from his thoughts.

 

Lady Haleford had summoned Mrs Twitchett to her bedroom and demanded to know how Amabel was to go home. ‘I don't know where the girl lives. Didn't someone tell me that she came from York?'

‘And so she did, my lady; she's got an aunt there. Left home when her mother brought in a stepfather who don't like her. Somewhere near Castle Cary—she'll need to get the train to the nearest station and get a taxi or a bus, if there is one.'

Mrs Twitchett hesitated. ‘And, my lady, could we keep Oscar and Cyril here while she's away? Seeing that her stepfather won't have them? Going to put them down, he was, so she left home.'

‘The poor child. Arrange for William down at the village garage to drive her home. I've already told her that of course the animals must stay.'

So Amabel was driven away in the village taxi, which was just as well, for the journey home otherwise would have been long and tedious and she had had no time to plan it.

It was late afternoon when William drew up with a flourish at her home.

There were lights shining from several windows, and she could see a large greenhouse at the side of the house. As they got out of the car she glimpsed another beyond it, where the orchard had been.

The front door opened under her touch and they went into the hall as she saw her stepfather come from the kitchen.

‘And about time too,' he said roughly. ‘Your mother's in the sitting room, waiting to be helped to bed.'

‘This is William, who brought me here by taxi,' said Amabel. ‘He's going back to Aldbury, but he would like a cup of tea first.'

‘I've no time to make tea…'

Amabel turned to William. ‘If you'll come with me to the kitchen, I'll make it. I'll just see Mother first.'

Her mother looked up as she went into the sitting room.

‘There you are, Amabel. Lovely to see you again, dear, and have you here to look after me.' She lifted her face for Amabel's kiss. ‘Keith is quite prepared to let bygones be bygones and let you live here…'

‘Mother, I must give the taxi driver a cup of tea. I'll be back presently and we can have a talk.'

There was no sign of her stepfather. William, waiting patiently in the kitchen, said, ‘Not much of a welcome home, miss.'

Amabel warmed the teapot. ‘Well, it all happened rather suddenly. Do you want a sandwich?'

William went very soon, feeling all the better for the tea and sandwiches, and the tip he had accepted reluctantly, and Amabel went back to the sitting room.

‘Tell me what has been wrong with you, Mother. Do you stay up all day? The doctor visits you?'

‘Pneumonia, love, and I went to hospital because Keith couldn't possibly manage on his own.'

‘Have you no help?'

‘Oh, yes, of course. Mrs Twist has been coming each day, to see to the house and do some of the cooking, and the hospital said a nurse would come each day once I was back home. She came for a day or two, but she and Keith had an argument and he told them that you would be looking after me. Not that I need much attention. In fact he's told Mrs Twist that she need not come any more, now that you are back home.'

‘My stepfather told me that there was no one to look after you, that he had no help…'

Her mother said lightly, ‘Oh, well, dear, you know what men are—and it does seem absurd for him to pay for a nurse and Mrs Twist when we have you…'

‘Mother, I don't think you understand. I've got a job. I came because I thought there was no one to help you. I'll stay until you are better, but you must get Mrs Twist back and have a nurse on call if it's necessary. I'd like to go back to Aldbury as soon as possible. You see, dear, Keith doesn't like me—but you're happy with him, aren't you?'

‘Yes, Amabel, I am, and I can't think why you can't get on, the pair of you. But now you are here the least you can do is make me comfortable. I'm still rather an invalid, having breakfast in bed and then a quiet day here by the fire. My appetite isn't good, but you were always a good cook. Keith likes his breakfast early, so you'll have all day to see to the house.'

She added complacently, ‘Keith is doing very well already, and now he won't need to pay Mrs Twist and that nurse he can plough the money back. You'll want to unpack your things, dear. Your old room, of course. I'm not sure if the bed is made up, but you know where everything is. And when you come down we'll decide what we'll have for supper.'

Of course the bed wasn't made up; the room was chilly and unwelcoming and Amabel sat down on the bed to get her thoughts sorted out. She wouldn't stay longer than it took to get Mrs Twist back, see the doctor and arrange for a nurse to visit, whatever her stepfather said. She loved her mother, but she was aware that she wasn't really welcome, that she was just being used as a convenience by her stepfather.

She made the bed, unpacked, and went back downstairs to the kitchen. There was plenty of food in the fridge. At least she wouldn't need to go to the shops for a few days…

Her mother fancied an omelette. ‘But that won't do for
Keith. There's a gammon steak, and you might do some potatoes and leeks. You won't have time to make a pudding, but there's plenty of cheese and biscuits…'

‘Have you been cooking, Mother?'

Her mother said fretfully, ‘Well, Keith can't cook, and Mrs Twist wasn't here. Now you're home I don't need to do anything.'

The next morning Amabel went to the village to the doctor's surgery. He was a nice man, but elderly and overworked.

‘You're mother is almost fit again,' he assured Amabel. ‘There is no reason why she shouldn't do a little housework, as long as she rests during the day. She needs some tests done, of course, and pills, and a check-up by the practice nurse. It is a pity that her husband refuses to let her visit; he told me that you would be coming home to live and that you would see to your mother.'

‘Has Mother been very ill?'

‘No, no. Pneumonia is a nasty thing, but if it's dealt with promptly anyone as fit as your mother makes a quick recovery.'

‘I understood from what my stepfather told me on the phone that Mother was very ill and he was without help.' She sighed. ‘I came as quickly as I could, but I have a job…'

‘Well, I shouldn't worry too much about that. I imagine that a few days of help from you will enable your mother to lead her usual life again. She has help, I believe?'

‘My stepfather gave Mrs Twist notice…'

‘Oh, dear, then you must get her back. Someone local?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, it shouldn't be too difficult to persuade Mr
Graham to change his mind. Once she is reinstated, you won't need to stay.'

Something which she pointed out to her stepfather later that day. ‘And do please understand that I must go back to my job at the end of week. The doctor told me that Mother should be well by then. You will have to get Mrs Twist to come every day.'

‘You unnatural girl.' Keith Graham's face was red with bad temper. ‘It's your duty to stay here…'

‘You didn't want me to stay before,' Amabel pointed out quietly. ‘I'll stay for a week, so that you have time to make arrangements to find someone to help Mother.' She nodded her neat head at him. ‘There was no need for me to come home. I love Mother, but you know as well as I do that you hate having me here. I can't think why you decided to ask me to come.'

‘Why should I pay for a woman to come and do the housework when I've a stepdaughter I can get for nothing?'

Amabel got to her feet. If there had been something suitable to throw at him she would have thrown it, but since there wasn't she merely said, ‘I shall go back at the end of the week.'

But there were several days to live through first, and although her mother consented to be more active there was a great deal to do—the cooking, fires to clean and light, coal to fetch from the shed, beds to make and the house to tidy. Her stepfather didn't lift a finger, only coming in for his meals, and when he wasn't out and about he was sitting by the fire, reading his paper.

Amabel said nothing, for eventually there was only one more day to go…

She was up early on the last morning, her bag packed,
and she went down to cook the breakfast Keith demanded. He came into the kitchen as she dished up his bacon and eggs.

‘Your mother's ill,' he told her. ‘Not had a wink of sleep—nor me neither. You'd better go and see to her.'

‘At what time is Mrs Twist coming?'

‘She isn't. Haven't had time to do anything about her…'

Amabel went upstairs and found her mother in bed.

‘I'm not well, Amabel. I feel awful. My chest hurts and I've got a headache. You can't leave me.'

She moaned as Amabel sat her gently against her pillows.

‘I'll bring you a cup of tea, Mother, and phone the doctor.'

She went downstairs to phone and leave a message at the surgery. Her stepfather said angrily. ‘No need for him. All she needs is a few days in bed. You can stay on a bit.'

‘I'll stay until you get Mrs Twist back. Today, if possible.'

Her mother would eat no breakfast, so Amabel helped her to the bathroom, made the bed and tidied the room and then went back downstairs to cancel the taxi which was to have fetched her in an hour's time. She had no choice but to stay until the doctor had been and Mrs Twist was reinstated.

There was nothing much wrong with her mother, the doctor told her when he came. She was complaining about her chest, but he could find nothing wrong there, and her headache was probably due to the sleepless nights she said she was having.

He said slowly, ‘She has worked herself up because you
are going away. I think it would be best if you could arrange to stay for another day or two. Has Mr Graham got Mrs Twist to come in?'

‘No. He told me that he had had no time. I thought I might go and see her myself. You don't think that Mother is going to be ill again?'

‘As far as I can see she has recovered completely from the pneumonia, but, as I say, she has worked herself up into a state—afraid of being ill again. So if you could stay…'

‘Of course I'll stay until Mother feels better.' She smiled at him. ‘Thank you for coming, Doctor.'

He gave her a fatherly pat. He thought she looked a bit under the weather herself he must remember to call in again in a day or two.

Amabel unpacked her bag, assured her mother that she would stay until Mrs Twist could come, and went to see that lady…

Mrs Twist was a comfortable body with a cheerful face. She listened to Amabel in silence and then said, ‘Well, I'm sorry to disoblige you, but I've got my old mum coming today for a week. Once she's gone home again I'll go each day, same as before. Staying long, are you?'

‘I meant to go back to my job this morning, but Mother asked me to stay until you could arrange to come back.' She couldn't help adding, ‘You will come, won't you?'

‘Course I will, love. And a week goes by quick enough. Nice having your ma to chat to.'

Amabel said, yes, it was, and thought how nice that would have been. Only there was precious little time to chat, and when she did sit down for an hour to talk it was her mother who did the talking: about how good Keith was to her, the new clothes she had bought, the holiday they
intended to take before the spring brought all the extra work in the greenhouses, how happy she was… But she asked no questions of Amabel.