Marrying Mary. Betty Neels

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      CHAPTER TWO

      THERE were cars parked on either side of the road where Mrs Winton lived. Mary wedged the elderly Austin into the space between a new Rover and a Rolls Royce and nipped smartly across the pavement and up the steps to the front door.

      ‘I thought you’d never get here,’ said Mrs Cox, no longer the silent and austere housekeeper now that she was thoroughly put out. ‘Your aunt’s real poorly; the doctor’s with her now.’

      ‘If she’s so ill she must go back to hospital or have a nurse here—where’s this doctor?’

      ‘Ah—the niece,’ said a voice gently beside her. There he was—the man she had been thinking of all day and every day, standing a foot from her, smiling. ‘Mrs Winton’s doctor is with her; I thought it best if I were to have a word with you...’ He glanced at Mrs Cox. ‘If we might go somewhere quiet?’

      They were ushered into the drawing-room and Mary sat down on the self-same horsehair chair that she had so happily vacated so short a time ago. She was glad to sit down; she had never believed that nonsense about knees turning to jelly when one was confronted by the loved one, but hers were jelly now.

      ‘Fancy seeing you again,’ she said, and added, ‘That’s a silly thing to say.’ And she blushed because he was smiling again, although he said nothing.

      He stood by the door, watching her, and presently said, ‘Your aunt has had a mild heart attack. Not serious enough for her to return to hospital but she will need to stay quietly at home for a few days. As you may know, the treatment is now quite an active one, but she is old which largely precludes it. If it is difficult for you to stay with her I’m sure Dr Symes will be able to find a nurse from one of the agencies, but I understand from Mrs Winton that you are a very capable young woman, and, of course, a nurse—a private nurse—is a costly expense in these days.’

      I don’t cost a penny, reflected Mary bleakly.

      ‘There will be very little for you to do,’ said the Professor smoothly, watching her expressive face from under heavy lids. ‘See that she takes gentle exercise each day, eats sensibly, doesn’t become agitated...’ Mary gave him a cold look. ‘Yes, I quite understand that Mrs Winton is used to having her own way, but she appears to like you and will probably do what you ask of her.’

      He came and sat down opposite her on another horsehair chair. ‘You are needed at home?’ He sounded casually sympathetic. ‘You live close by?’

      ‘No, no, I don’t; at least, Hampstead isn’t far, but it’s an awkward journey. Besides, there’s no one to see to the house.’

      He raised his eyebrows. ‘You live alone? I gathered from the hospital that Mrs Winton was staying with a nephew—your father?’

      ‘Yes, but Father’s writing a book and my mother paints. My sister’s only thirteen and she’s at school all day. Mrs Blackett could manage for a day or two, but she’s always on the point of leaving.’

      ‘Mrs Blackett?’ prompted the professor gently, greatly enjoying himself.

      ‘Our daily. At least, she comes four mornings a week, but—she didn’t get on well with Great Aunt Thirza.’

      ‘Just so.’ The professor might have been only thirty-five years old, but his manner was that of a man twice his age, seemingly prepared to listen sympathetically and give suitable advice. Mary responded to that; she had plenty of friends of her own age, but it wouldn’t have entered her head to bore them with her worries, but here was a sympathetic ear, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to unburden herself.

      ‘Mother——’ she began. ‘Mother’s a darling, and so clever with a paintbrush, but of course she’s artistic and she doesn’t really like cooking and that kind of thing; besides, the money she gets for the cards is most useful. And Father’s very clever; he doesn’t notice what’s going on around him. I wouldn’t change them for the world but they simply can’t manage unless someone is there to see to the house. Polly’s splendid, but she’s at school and there’s homework. So you see it is a bit awkward if I have to stay here...’ She added snappily, ‘Not that I’m indispensable...’

      ‘No, no,’ soothed Professor van Rakesma. ‘Of course not, but I see that you have problems. Would it help if you were to go home for a few hours each day? Perhaps while your aunt rests in the afternoons?’

      ‘Have you any idea what the traffic is like between here and Hampstead—the other end of Hampstead?’

      He tucked this useful piece of information away at the back of his mind and said that he had a very good idea. ‘If a nurse were to relieve you for a few hours each day would that help?’ And at her look of surprise he added, ‘I’m sure the National Health Service would be prepared to pay for her; she would cost a lot less than having your aunt in hospital, besides giving us another empty bed. Always in short supply.’

      ‘Would they? Who should I ask?’

      ‘Leave that to me. Now, I think we might join Dr Symes and his patient.’

      Great Aunt Thirza was sitting, propped up by pillows, in a vast mahogany bed; she looked pale and tired and Mary forgot how tiresome the whole thing was and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Thirza, but a few days’ rest and you’ll be as right as rain.’

      ‘So that foreign man tells me. Dr Symes is of no use at all—nice enough, but of course all doctors are fools, and don’t contradict me, miss!’ She caught Mary’s hand. ‘You’ll stay, Mary?’

      ‘Until you are better, yes, Aunt Thirza.’

      Mrs Winton closed her eyes. ‘Then go away and leave me in peace.’

      Mary looked at the two men. Dr Symes nodded to her to go with him, leaving the professor at the bedside. Outside the door he said, ‘She’ll listen to him. Are you sure you can manage? I’ll be in every day and I dare say Professor van Rakesma will visit again. It was a piece of luck that I happened to be on the other phone to him when the housekeeper rang up—said he’d seen her at St Justin’s and asked if he might come and see her. Very civil of him.’

      She agreed, and added sedately, ‘I’m sure it will be a great relief to Aunt Thirza to know that she is being looked after so well. You’ll be here in the morning?’

      ‘After surgery, but phone me if you are worried.’

      They were joined by the professor then, who, beyond wishing her good morning, had nothing further to say before the two men went out to their cars and drove away. She shut the door and went to find Mrs Cox.

      ‘You’re staying, Miss Mary? I told the doctor and I’m telling you that I’m the СКАЧАТЬ