Sister of the Housemaster (12 page)

So Ingrid went off to Surrey to spend a week with the Pinder family, and Miss Everton took over quietly from her. Sylvia plunged into plans, the first being this coming dinner party, and thoroughly enjoyed herself. The week-end arrived, bringing Patrick on Saturday afternoon, and he sat and talked to his sister, while Arnold helped Miss Everton to prepare things in the kitchen.

“
Arnold insisted that we should have more social life these holidays,
”
Sylvia told him, as
Patrick lit a cigarette for her, and seated hi
m
self near her couch.

“
That doesn
’
t sound quite like Arnold,
”
observed Patrick.

“
He was thinking of me, of course. It gets very dull, you know, Patrick, this long, long cure.
”

“
It will be worth it, my dear, if your leg event
u
ally heals properly.
”

“
Yes, I know, worth it but awfully tedious.
Fortunately, my friends are very loyal
they
come in often to see me, especially Pamela.
”

‘
I’m
glad you have somebody to relieve the dullness.
”

“
Pamela is such a sweet girl, and so thoughtful. Don
’
t you think she is charming, Patrick?
”

“
She
’
s very pleasant,
”
said Patrick warily. He knew his sister, and had no intention of committing himself too far.

“
She has such a nice nature
—
really, when you consider her background and how she has always had everything she wanted
—
unexpectedly kind and sweet.
”

“
Perhaps,
”
suggested Patrick,
“
it is easy to be kind a
nd sweet if you have always h
ad everything you wanted.
”

“
Oh, how cynical of you,
”
reproached Sylvia.
“
Anyway, she is looking forward very much to seeing you again tonight, She admire
s
you immensely, you know.
”

Patrick laughed.

“
You always over-estimated my attractions, Sylvia, and I suppose you always will. Don
’
t imagine that everybody shares your views.
”

“
Pamela does, anyway,
”
she persisted; and then thought it best to let the matter drop, hoping that all the little seeds she scattered would eventually grow and bear fruit.

The party was very successful and augured well for those to follow. Sylvia sparkled, and even Miss Everton, who seemed bent on eclipsing herself in her dress of soft grey, glowed gently. When all the guests had gone, and Sylvia had been helped to bed, Miss Everton retired to Ingrid
’
s room, since her own little bedroom, at the top of the ancient spiral staircase, was too isolated in the deserted school. Arnold and Patrick were left alone in the living-room for a last smoke and a chat.

“
I hear that Ingrid has gone to visit Laurence
’
s family,
”
said Patrick.
“
For long?
”

“
Only a week. It will pass all t
o
o quickly.
”

“
They seem to be establishing themselves on a conventional footing. Is it a serious affair?
”

“
I hardly think so,
”
said Arnold.
“
They have known each other only a short time
—
just during the Lent term, ten weeks or thereabouts.
”

“
Ten weeks is more than long enough to fall in love.
”

“
Yes, you
’
re right, of course. I suppose it could well be a serious affair, but I don
’
t know. All I hope is that Ingrid has a pleasant week. I
’
m afraid I always have this faint feeling of guilt about pulling her away from her work.
”

Patrick was suddenly immobile for sever
al
seconds. Then he slowly exhaled smoke and turned to Arnold, his eyes keen.

“
Her work?
”
he repeated,

“
Yes. She is so enthralled and engrossed by it that it seems too bad to keep her running about after Sylvia here.
”

“
What work is that?
”
asked Patrick.

“
Her work at the hospital. Why, did you not know that she had a job? Do you mean to say that nobody has ever mentioned it?
”

“
Not in my hearing
,”
said Patrick, his voice clipped.
“
What is her work at the hospital? Is she a nurse?
”

Arnold looked at h
i
m with a certain amount of speculation. The charming and easy-going Patrick did not seem to be either of those things at the moment. His voice was ste
rn
, his expression determined, and his keen grey eyes had a severity about them that Arnold was unaccustomed to. He said:

“
She is a trained radiographer. She has been training for two years, and
h
as recently been out with a mass-radiography unit visiting big firms and factories. Her heart is really in the job
.”

“
Radiographer
,”
said Patrick.
“
Radiographer. H
m
m. That means, I suppose, some knowledge of physics, magnetism and electricity. A knowledge of the machine. X-Ray photography
...
”

“
Yes
,
”
said Arnold.

“
An interesting and busy life,
”
commented Patrick.

“
An extremely busy life. In hospital, they work fast. She has to be alert and accurate
—
in fact, the number of necessary qualifications would dismay many people. Not only must she pass exams and follow lectures, keep her wits a
b
out her even when she is rushed, and so on, but she has to have charm and sympathy and quite a fund of enthusiasm. Well, Ingrid has the enthusiasm in plenty, and I consider she has the charm and sympathy too. I
’
m surprised, seeing that she is
s
o absorbed in her job, that you haven
’
t heard about it.
”

“
It surprises me, too,
”
said Patrick dryly. He rose to get another drink.
“
Can I help you?
”
he asked Arnold, and Arnold had a distinct impression that Patrick wanted to drop the subject of Ingrid, and did not choose to speak of her. He could not possibly know what was in Patrick
’
s mind, nor that Patrick had received a sudden painful stab as if from
a
deliberate knife-thrust. He saw only that his brother-in-law was suddenly silent, and he respected that
silence,
smoking contentedly and sipping
his
drink.

A little later, they went to their rooms. Patrick
’
s, like Ingrid
’
s, was very small, a mere slip of a room but pleasantly decorated and famished. Arnold knew that he was lucky to have two sp
ar
e bedrooms, small as they were, when the school buildings were always crowded to capacity. Now, Patrick seated
him
self in
his
armchair and lit yet another cigarette,
his
mind full of unpleasant facts. That Ingrid should not have mentioned her work could conceivably be put down to lack of a suitable opportunity, but that reason could hardly be believed for a moment. There had been the evening of Bruce
’
s twenty-first birth
da
y dance, when he had accused her of living in a glass house, and reminded her that she should not throw stones. Why had she not said simply:
“
But I have a job
”
? Why had she allowed him to go on believing what w
a
s not
true
? And why, when he had spent so long talking to her of his work, on the evening when she had dined with him in London, had she not reciprocated by telling him of hers? The obvious reason was that she did not want him to know
—
did not feel sufficient interest in
him
to want to discuss with him this job in which she was
“
so enthralled and engrossed
.”
No doubt, everybody else knew of it.

He reminded himself once more of that evening; of the dance. He had asked why she disliked him, and her denial had been half-hearted at best. He had told her that it had penetrated into
his
thick skull that she had no use for him. She could hardly have made it plainer, thought Patrick, and yet he found himself unac
c
ustomedly hurt by her indifference. He had extended to her nothing but friendliness, yet, from the very beginning, he had been unable to thaw her. She had been stiff and unresponsive, and Patrick could only conclude, but without in the least knowing why, that she had taken an instinctive dislike to him.

He crushed out his half-smoked cigarette. Well, he had been stupid to bother her at all. If she wanted to be left alone, wanted to keep her personal affairs to herself, she could do so, from now on, without interference from
him
. She could concentrate on Laurence, spend her free time with his family, go her own way unmolested. He had found her fresh, and charming if not to himself. He; had thought companionship was possible, pl
ea
sant friendship. But there could not be real friendship with frankness on one side and reserve on the other.
F
rom now on, he would leave her in peace.

Ingrid who, after such a pleasant and. interesting evening with him in London, was beginning to forget that he irritated and annoyed her, was certainly neither irritated nor annoyed with the family of Laurence Pinder. His mother and father were Interesting people with a wealth of ideas and a capacity to make a real home for their children. Laurence
h
ad a younger sister and brother
—
the sister recently engaged to be married, the brother due at any moment to do his two years of national service. Elsa, the sister, who taught in a kindergarten, was, like Laurence, on holiday. Tony, the brother, was enjoying a week or two of respite at home before his spell in the Army. Mrs. Pinder was delighted to have them all at home, and to include Ingrid in the family party. They had planned a number of outings and treats, dinner dances, theatres, drives, yet with all that, there was time for Laurence and Ingrid to take many walks together over the lovely countryside of the Surrey-Sussex border.

“
What a lovely, happy family,
”
said Ingrid on one of their walks.
“
How nice to come home each holiday to such a welcome. And they
’
ve been so charming to me,
”

“
Who wouldn
’
t be?
”
asked Laurence.
“I
only wish you could stay longer.
”

“
I can
’
t do that, I
’
m afraid. As long as I stay here, I am shortening Miss Everton
’
s holiday.
”

“
But you will try to come up now and then, for a theatre or dinner with me?
”

“
I
’
ll try, but don
’
t expect too much. After all, this is being a perfectly lovely week, Laurence. I
’
m s
o glad your mother invited me.
”

“
Promise me you will
c
ome again in the
sum
mer holidays
—
for longer. After all, Mrs, Southbrook will probably be quite recovered by then.
”