Waiting for Deborah. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ silly remark and rather rude and deserving of his quelling, ‘Goodbye, Miss Everett.’

      She had no time to bother about that now; she sped back to Mrs Vernon, pausing at the door to regain her calm before telling her that Sir James Marlow was coming to see her and since it would be lunchtime by then Mrs Vernon should have her chicken broth a little earlier. ‘And I suppose I should warn Cook—do you think he’ll want lunch?’

      She received a wink and, obedient to it, went down to the kitchen and explained to Cook, although she didn’t say why Sir James was coming; time enough for that when he had done.

      ‘That’ll be nice, Deborah,’ said Cook. ‘You’ll have some company for once. I’ll sit with Mrs Vernon so’s there’s no reason to hurry—you can have a chat with him.’

      ‘He may prefer to lunch by himself,’ said Deborah doubtfully. ‘I’ll ask him.’

      She went back upstairs, armed with more flowers from the garden and, anxious to make a good impression, tied Mrs Vernon’s hair back with a pink ribbon before brushing her own carroty locks.

      Mrs Vernon, strengthened by the broth and nicely scented with lavender water, stared up at Sir James’s face as he bent over her. He had arrived quietly, bade Deborah a civil good morning and gone at once to the bedside.

      He took the old lady’s hand in his and felt its faint movement. ‘You’re much better,’ he told her, and received a flurry of winks in reply. ‘I’m going to take a look at you if I may, since Dr Benson isn’t here.’

      He made an unhurried examination, spending a long time with the foot, testing its reflexes before doing the same with the other foot. Presently he said, ‘Mrs Vernon, it is too early to be certain of anything but I believe that you will regain a good deal of your normal movement, but you must go very slowly. Your hearing is excellent, is it not? Have you tried to speak?’

      The old lady grunted.

      ‘Splendid—your voice is there; it will return. Don’t try and force it. Miss Everett …’ he changed that to Deborah at the two urgent winks ‘… Deborah will continue to massage your arms and legs and you must drink everything which she offers you. If you were in hospital there is a good deal more which could be done for you, but your niece told me that you would be unhappy there so we must do the best we can here.’

      He waited until Deborah arranged the bedclothes tidily. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes,’ said Deborah, ‘there’s a fire in the dining-room—in case you would like to stay for lunch?’

      She went over to the bed and told its occupant that they were going downstairs then and that Mrs Dodd would come up at once. ‘I’ll be up to settle you for your nap presently.’

      She led the way downstairs, ushered him into the dining-room and went to the kitchen. ‘If Mrs Dodd wouldn’t mind going up for a little while? Sir James wants to give me some instructions.’

      ‘What about his lunch?’ asked Cook.

      ‘I’ll ask him and come and tell you …’

      He was at a window looking out on to the garden beyond but he turned round as she went into the room. ‘You were kind enough to invite me to lunch—perhaps we could talk at the same time?’

      ‘Me too? You want me to have lunch with you? I usually have mine on a tray …’

      ‘I very much hope that you will keep me company.’

      ‘Yes, well, if you say so—I’ll tell Cook.’ She whisked herself back to the kitchen to tell her and then rejoined him.

      ‘I’m so sorry but I don’t know where Mrs Vernon keeps her sherry—and I’m not sure if she would want me to—what I mean is, I’m a servant …’ She went pink under his amused look.

      ‘I have to drive back to London presently …’

      ‘Oh, then you won’t mind drinking lemonade or something like that.’

      Sir James, who hadn’t drunk lemonade for very many years, agreed that that would be an excellent choice.

      Cook, without young Mrs Vernon’s sharp eye upon her, had conjured up a splendid meal: soup, chicken pie with a winter salad, and a steamed pudding, as light as a feather with jam sauce and cream. Deborah enjoyed every morsel, aware that young Mrs Vernon would have been highly indignant at the idea of her aunt’s attendant sitting at the same table as Sir James and eating such an excellent meal.

      Over the chicken pie she judged it the time to ask a few questions. ‘Is Mrs Vernon going to get quite better again? And will it take a long time?’

      ‘Not quite better, I’m afraid, but possibly able to walk with a Zimmer frame, sit in a chair, get around in a wheelchair and have the use of her hands. Probably the left hand will be weaker than the right. As to her speech, it may be indistinct and slow. I see no reason why she should not enjoy life once more, though. When is Mrs Vernon returning?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘And Dr Benson?’

      ‘I wasn’t told precisely.’ She took a breath, ‘I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing phoning you, Sir James, but I didn’t know what to do.’

      He accepted a second helping of pie. ‘You did the right thing, Miss Everett. I shall contact Dr Benson at the earliest opportunity and suggest further treatment. How long are you to remain here?’

      ‘I’ve no idea. Someone I know is young Mrs Vernon’s aunt, and Mrs Vernon was finding it hard work coping with her aunt—there was only the district nurse coming in each day.’ She hesitated, ‘I needed work and so I came here.’

      ‘You have no plans at the moment? No intention of marrying?’

      ‘No, none at all.’ She gave him a questioning look.

      ‘I do not ask out of idle curiosity,’ he told her with a smile. ‘I was anticipating Mrs Vernon’s partial recovery and her need for a companion.’

      ‘Oh, I see. But I think that if she got better Mrs Vernon might want to look after her again.’

      ‘Perhaps. We shall see. You have no need to say anything to Mrs Vernon or Dr Benson. I will find the means of communicating with them at the first opportunity.’

      They ate their pudding while he talked casually about this and that, interposing a gentle question here and there so that Deborah, off her guard and relaxed, told him a great deal more than she would have wished.

      He left presently after another brief visit to the old lady and Deborah, her hand in his large reassuring grasp, wished that they could meet again.

      ‘You must be daft, my girl,’ she told herself, watching the car disappear down the drive. ‘He’ll not even remember my name in a month’s time.’

      Three days went by in which Mrs Vernon’s twitchings and movements became most satisfactorily more frequent. Deborah, eager to tell someone about it, was delighted to see Dr Benson’s car coming up the drive on the fourth СКАЧАТЬ