Small Slice of Summer

A small crowd had collected, but the doctor took no notice of it, merely scooped her neatly off the ground and carried her to the car, where he sat her carefully on the front seat. ‘Let’s have a look,’ he suggested calmly, and slid her sandal off a decidedly swollen ankle. ‘A sprain, I fancy. Stockings or tights?’

‘Tights.’

He produced a pair of scissors from a pocket. ‘Sorry about this—I’ll get you another pair,’ he promised as he made a neat slit and cut the nylon neatly way above the ankle. He was reaching for his bag in the back of the car when the policeman arrived. Letitia sat back, listening to the doctor’s quiet answers to the officer’s questions, the eager chorus of witnesses, anxious to allow no blame to rest upon him, and her own voice, a little wobbly, giving her name and address and where she was going and why. By the time things had been sorted out the ankle had been firmly bandaged and her head was beginning to ache. She didn’t listen to what the doctor said to the policeman—indeed, she barely noticed when he got in beside her and started the car; she was suddenly sleepy. The car was comfortable to the point of luxury; she closed her eyes.

They were almost at Dalmers Place when she woke up again; she recognized the road almost at once. ‘I was going to my aunt in Epping,’ she began worriedly. ‘My days off, you know.’

‘You went to sleep—the best thing for you. Does she expect you?’

‘No.’

‘Then there’s nothing to worry about. I’m taking you to Dalmers Place. You’re a friend of Georgina, aren’t you—and Julius? They’ll be delighted to put you up for the night.’

She turned to look at him, quite shocked. ‘Oh, you can’t do that—invite me there without them knowing, whatever will they say? If you’d stop…oh, dear, we’ve gone through Bishop’s Stortford, haven’t we? Could you go a little out of your way to Saffron Walden? There’s a station there—I could get on a train back to Epping.’

‘Hopping all the way? Don’t be absurd. Besides, I feel responsible for you—I knocked you down.’

‘But it wasn’t your fault, and really I can’t allow you…’

He interrupted her in a placid voice. ‘Dear girl, what a mountain you are making out of this little molehill! And you know that you’re dying to get to bed and nurse that painful ankle.’

She had to laugh a little then and he gave her a quick sideways glance and said: ‘That’s better,’ and a moment later slowed the car to allow Mr Legg, who did the garden and lived in the lodge at Dalmers Place, to come out and open the gate for them, and then drove, still slowly, up the short, tree-lined drive to the house where he stopped before its door, told her to stay where she was, got out, and went round the side of the house.

Georgina looked up as he reached the terrace. ‘Hullo,’ she greeted him cheerfully. ‘We were just beginning to wonder what had happened to you.’

‘I’ve brought someone with me, I hope you won’t mind—it’s Tishy.’

He was quick to see the quick look his friends exchanged and went on smoothly, ‘I could take her on…’ to be cut short by Georgina’s fervent: ‘No, Jason—we’re delighted, really, only Julius and I were talking about her—oh, quite casually,’ she avoided her husband’s twinkling eye, ‘and it’s funny, isn’t it, how when you talk about someone they often turn up unexpectedly. Where have you left her?’

‘In the car. She sprained her ankle—I knocked her down.’

Georgina was already leading the way. ‘Oh, how unfortunate!’ she exclaimed, meaning exactly the opposite. She glanced at Julius over her shoulder and when Jason wasn’t looking, pulled a face at him. ‘But we must thank Providence that it was you, if you see what I mean.’

CHAPTER TWO

LETITIA SAT in the car, feeling a fool. Her ankle throbbed, so did her head, and she had been pitchforked into a situation which had been none of her doing. Probably Georgina would be furious at having an unexpected guest at less than a moment’s notice. True, she had been to Dalmers Place before, but only in the company of her sister Margo—it was Margo who was Georgina’s friend. She sought feverishly for a solution to her problem and came up with nothing practical, and when the three of them came round the house and crossed the grass towards the car, she found herself studying their faces for signs of annoyance. She could see none; Georgina was looking absolutely delighted and her husband was smiling, and as for Doctor Mourik van Nie, he wore the pleased look of one who had done his duty and could now wash his hands of the whole tiresome affair.

Georgina reached the car first. ‘Tishy,’ she exclaimed, ‘you poor girl—does it hurt very much? You shall go straight to bed and the men shall take another look at it—you look as though you could do with a drink, too. Thank heaven it was Jason who knocked you down and not some stranger who wouldn’t have known what to do.’ She paused for breath and Letitia said quickly: ‘I’m awfully sorry—I mean, coming suddenly like this and being so awkward.’ Her eyes searched Georgina’s face anxiously. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not, it’ll be fun once that ankle stops aching.’ She stood aside while Julius said Hullo in a welcoming way and Jason said matter-of-factly: ‘I’ll carry you in.’

‘I can hobble, I’m sure I can.’

He grinned. ‘I shouldn’t bet on that if I were you.’ He had opened the car door and swept her carefully into his arms. ‘Which room?’ he asked Georgina.

‘Turn left at the top of the stairs, down the little passage, the second door.’

Letitia wondered if the doctor found her heavy; apparently not, for he climbed the staircase at a good pace and with no huffing or puffing, found her room without difficulty and sat her down in a chair. ‘Georgina will help you undress,’ he told her with impersonal kindness, ‘and we’ll come back later and take another look at the ankle.’ He had gone before she could frame her thanks.

Half an hour later she was sitting up in bed, nicely supported by pillows and with the bedclothes turned back to expose her foot; by now the ankle was badly swollen and discoloured. The men came in together with Georgina and Letitia wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not when neither gave her more than a cursory glance before bending over the offending joint, which they agreed was nothing more than a partial tear of the ligament and hardly justified an X-ray. ‘We’ll strap it,’ they told her. ‘You’ll have to rest it for three or four days, then you can start active use—a couple of weeks and you’ll be as good as new.’

‘A couple of weeks? But I’ve only got two days off!’ She was appalled at their verdict.

‘Sick leave?’ suggested Doctor Mourik van Nie. He sounded positively fatherly.

She stared at him; they were all being very kind, but she was spoiling their evening. She said quickly: ‘If I could go back to St Athel’s with you in the morning—there’s a list at nine o’clock, isn’t there?—I could see someone. That’s if you wouldn’t mind taking me.’

He gave her a long considered look and she felt her cheeks grow red.

‘No, I won’t take you, you silly girl. Georgina has already said that you’re to stay here until Julius pronounces you fit to travel, and that won’t be for a few days.’

‘Of course you’ll stay,’ chimed in Georgina warmly. ‘I shall love having you; these two are driving up to Edinburgh at the weekend, to some meeting or other, and I wasn’t looking forward to being alone one bit. And now I’m going to see about your dinner, you must be famished.’

‘And I’ll telephone St Athel’s,’ Julius suggested, and left the room with his wife, leaving Doctor Mourik van Nie lounging on the side of the bed.

‘That’s settled,’ he commented, and smiled at her, and for some reason she remembered that he had smiled that afternoon when he had come upon her and Mike.

‘You’re all very kind,’ she said crossly, because her head still ached, ‘but I don’t like being a nuisance.’

He got to his feet so that she had to tilt her head to look up at him.

‘My dear girl,’ he said, and his voice was bland, ‘the sooner you stop imagining that because one man said you were—er—old-fashioned, the rest of us are villains and you’re a failure, the better. I’m surprised at you; you seem to me to be a sensible enough girl, and when you smile you’re quite pretty.’

He strolled to the door. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning,’ he assured her as he went out.

Letitia stared at the shut door; probably she would feel much better in the morning, at the moment she felt quite sick with surprise and temper—how dared he talk to her like that?—it was possibly these strong feelings which caused her to burst into tears.

She was wiping her eyes when Georgina came back, and she, after one quick glance, made some thoughtful remark about delayed shock and proffered the glass of sherry she had brought with her. ‘Dinner in half an hour,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and Julius says a good night’s sleep is a must, so he’s coming along with a sleeping pill later on.’

Letitia sipped the sherry. ‘I’ve never taken one in my life,’ she protested, and then remembering what the Dutchman had said, added meekly: ‘But I will if he says so.’

She felt a lot better after her dinner and better still after a long night’s sleep. Indeed, she woke early and lay watching the sun gathering strength for another warm day, and she heard the car drive away too. That would be Doctor Mourik van Nie, she supposed, and she felt an unreasonable pique because he hadn’t come to inquire how she felt, but of course she wasn’t his patient, only an unfortunate incident at the end of a long day.

She sat up in bed, wincing a little at the pain in her ankle, and thought about him, willing to admit, now that it was morning and she was feeling better, that he had been quite right even if a little outspoken, the previous evening. She had been sorry for herself, she admitted that now, although she hadn’t much liked being dubbed as sensible, but he had said that she was almost pretty when she smiled. She smiled now, remembering it, and turned a beaming face upon the maid who presently tapped on the door with her early morning tea.

The day rolled along on well-oiled wheels; the house came alive, breakfasted, and settled down to the morning. Julius came early, examined the ankle, pronounced it to be going along nicely and left Georgina to help her out of bed and into a chair by the window and presently they all had their coffee there, with Polly playing happily and baby Ivo asleep in his cot. It was when Julius got up to go to his study that Letitia asked a little diffidently if he had telephoned the hospital.

‘Did I forget to tell you? You are to stay here until I consider it all right for you to travel, and it has been left to me to decide if you need a week off after that.’

She was unaware of how plainly her thoughts showed on her face. ‘Home for a few days?’ suggested Georgina, reading them correctly. ‘One of the men can take you up to town and drop you off at the station…’ She stopped and smiled, looking so pleased with herself that Letitia was on the point of asking why, but Julius spoke first, to say that he would be back very shortly and carry her down to the garden. ‘Far too nice a day to stay indoors,’ he pointed out kindly, and when she thanked him, adding that she hoped she wasn’t being a nuisance, he went on: ‘Of course not—we’re treating you as one of the family, Tishy, and Georgina’s delighted to have your company while we’re away, and in any case, just to prove how much we take you for granted, I’m driving her to Saffron Walden very shortly. Nanny will be here with the babies, of course, and Stephens will bring you your lunch and see that you’re comfortable. You don’t mind?’

He had struck the right note; she felt at ease now because she wasn’t spoiling their day after all. ‘Of course I don’t mind—it will be super doing nothing. You’re both so kind.’

Julius went away and Georgina smiled and offered to get a rather fetching housecoat of a pleasing shade of pink for her guest to wear. Letitia put it on, admiring the fine lawn and tucks and lace. It had a pie-frill collar and cuffed sleeves, and looking down at her person, she had to admit that lovely clothes did something for one…‘I can leave my hair, can’t I?’ she asked. ‘There’s no one to see.’

Her kind hostess bent down to pick up a hairpin. She said: ‘No one, Tishy,’ hoping that Providence, already so kind, would continue to be so.

The day was glorious. Letitia, lying comfortably on a luxurious day bed, leafed through the pile of glossy magazines she had been provided with, ate a delicious lunch Mrs Stephens had arranged so temptingly on the trays Stephens carried out to her, then closed her eyes. It was warm in the sun; she would have a crop of freckles in no time, but it really didn’t matter. She had spent a lot of money she really couldn’t afford on a jar of something or other to prevent them, because Mike had told her once that he thought they were childish. Thinking about it now, she began to wonder exactly what it was about her that he had liked. Whatever it had been, it hadn’t lasted long. She remembered with faint sickness how he had told her that she wasn’t pretty. ‘Not even pretty,’ he had said, as though there was nothing else about her that was attractive. She frowned at the thought and pondered the interesting question as to what Doctor Mourik van Nie would find attractive in a girl. Whatever it was, she felt very sure that she hadn’t got it. She dozed off, frowning a little.