Hilltop Tryst

Her sister’s voice came, penitent in her ear. ‘Sorry, Beatrice. I’ll wait and not fuss. But you won’t forget?’

‘No, love.’

Miss Scott came back then and they set to work ringing round neighbours and neighbouring vets, fitting in the patients already booked by her father. They had almost finished when Dr Latimer joined them.

Beatrice jumped to her feet. ‘Father—how is he?’

‘Holding his own, as I told you; if he can hang on a little longer, he’ll be out of the wood.’ He bade Miss Scott a polite good morning and Beatrice introduced them. ‘We’re handing over most of father’s patients for the moment—I’ve dealt with the minor stuff in surgery this morning.’ She lifted unhappy eyes to his. ‘I’m not sure what we should do…’

‘Get a locum,’ he told her promptly. ‘Your father will need an assistant for a few months. I know you do a great deal to help him, but it will have to be someone qualified if he’s to keep his contacts with the local farmers.’

She could have hugged him for his matter-of-fact acceptance of her father’s recovery. ‘Of course, I’ll get in touch with the agency he uses sometimes—if he’s on holiday or something…’

She smiled for the first time that day, and Dr Latimer studied her unhappy face without appearing to do so. ‘Your father will be in hospital for a week or two, and when he’s home he won’t be able to do much for a time. Do you know of anyone he might like to work for him?’

She shook her head. ‘No. They’ve always been different, and they’ve never been here for longer than three weeks.’

‘Well, see what you can do. Get him here for an interview; it may make things much easier if you like him. Did you ring your sisters?’

‘Yes. Carol and Kathy are driving back, they should be here quite soon. Ella’s at school; I promised her I’d fetch her as soon as I could. I dare say Carol will fetch her.’

‘Where does she go to school?’

‘Wilton…’

‘We’ll go and get her now, shall we? Perhaps I should explain things to her…’

‘Oh, would you? She’s got her exams, and Father was anxious that she should pass well; if she could be reassured it would help a lot.’

Sitting in the soft leather comfort of his car, she said rather shyly, ‘You’re being very kind, and I’m most grateful. I know Mother will be too when she knows. You do think Father will be all right? Dr Stevens is very good, isn’t he? Did he think he would recover?’ She stopped and the bright colour washed over her face. ‘Oh, I do beg your pardon, you’re much cleverer than he is, aren’t you? I mean, you’re very well-known—Mrs Forbes said so. I expect Dr Stevens does what you suggest, doesn’t he?’

A small sound escaped Dr Latimer’s lips. ‘Well, more or less—we pool our knowledge, as it were; he was good enough to allow me to take a look at your father. Is your Miss Scott reliable? Could she be left for a couple of hours while I take you to the hospital? Your mother wants to stay the night, and asked me to fetch some things for her. There is no reason why all of you shouldn’t see him for a moment.’

‘Thank you, I know we would all like to do that. But don’t you have to work? Don’t you have patients in London and hospital rounds and—and things?’

He said gravely, ‘I take an occasional day off.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. If you turn down the next street, the school’s half-way down.’

Ella was waiting, red-eyed and restless. When she saw Dr Latimer she rushed to him and flung her arms around him. ‘It’s you. Oh, I’m so glad, now Father will be all right. How did you know? Had you come for breakfast?’

He didn’t answer her questions, but said cheerfully, ‘I’m going to take you to see your father, but first Beatrice has to put a few things together for your mother. She will stay at the hospital for a day or two while you help Beatrice to look after the house and the animals.’

He stowed her in the seat beside him and Beatrice got into the back, relieved at the placid way in which he had dealt with Ella, and once they were back home again he exhibited the same placid manner with Carol and Kathy, prevailed upon Miss Scott to stay until they returned, piled them all back into the car and drove back to Salisbury. And Beatrice sat in front beside him, listening to his advice, given in a diffident voice but sound none the less, so that, when he suggested that it might help if he were to be present when she interviewed any applicant for the post of assistant at the surgery, she agreed without a second thought.

‘And it should be as soon as possible,’ he reminded her, ‘so that whoever comes has settled in nicely before your father returns.’

‘I’ll phone as soon as we get home,’ she promised him. ‘How shall I let you know if someone comes for an interview?’

‘I’ll leave you my phone number.’ He drew up before the hospital entrance and they all got out. Ella was crying again, and he paused to mop her face. ‘Your father is on a life-support machine, so there are a number of tubes and wires attached to him; don’t let that frighten you. And you may only stay a few moments. Come along.’

Mrs Browning was sitting on a chair outside intensive care; she looked as pale as her daughters, but gave them a cheerful smile. She looked at Dr Latimer then. ‘I’m eternally grateful,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without your help. And I do believe you when you say that Tom is going to get better.’ She gave him a sweet smile. ‘May the girls see him?’

‘Certainly. Two at a time, I think. I’ll just make sure that they won’t be in the way…’

He disappeared, to return presently with a white-gowned Sister. ‘Carol and Kathy?’ he suggested. ‘You’ll have to put on white gowns. Sister will show you.’

They were only gone for a minute or two, and then it was Beatrice’s and Ella’s turn. ‘And not so much as a snuffle from you,’ warned Dr Latimer, giving Ella a gentle push.

Beatrice had steeled herself to see her father’s grey face once more, but despite the tubes and wires he looked more like her father again, with colour in his face, and apparently asleep. The sight of him acted like a tonic upon her; he was alive and he was going to get better. Dr Latimer had said so. She quelled a great desire to burst into tears, and urged Ella back into the waiting-room.

Dr Latimer went away presently, excusing himself on the grounds of a brief consultation with Dr Stevens, leaving them to drink coffee a nursing aide had brought them.

They said goodbye to their mother when he returned, and he drove them back to Hindley, to share the sandwiches which Mrs Perry had made and write his phone number down for Beatrice, with the reminder that she was to phone him as soon as she had an applicant to be interviewed. He wished them all a cheerful goodbye, and for Beatrice at least the house seemed very empty when he had gone.

But she had little time to sit and be sorry for herself; the most pressing necessity was for someone to carry on the practice while her father was away. While her sisters scattered to do the various jobs around the house, she went to the study, found the address of the agency her father had always used and phoned them.

It had been a miserable day so far, now lightened somewhat by the news that there was a newly qualified vet on their books who might be exactly what Beatrice was looking for. An appointment was made for the following day, and she went to find her sisters and tell them the good news.

‘If he can come straight away, we shan’t need to hand over too many of father’s regular accounts. I can manage the surgery for a few more days, and we’ll just have to go on as usual. I expect Mother will come home as soon as Father is out of danger.’

She spoke with a confidence she didn’t feel, although Dr Latimer had told her with quiet certainty that her father would recover.

Dr Latimer phoned again around teatime; Mr Browning was showing a steady improvement, their mother would stay the night at the hospital, but if everything was satisfactory in the morning she would return home by lunchtime. ‘Everything all right your end?’ he wanted to know.

‘Yes, oh, yes, we’re managing. There’s someone coming from the agency tomorrow morning, about eleven o’clock.’

‘I’ll be with you before then.’ He hung up with a brief goodbye.

Tired out with anxiety and worry, they all slept soundly, but Beatrice was up soon after six o’clock, to let Knotty out into the garden, feed the cat, Wilbur, and make a cup of tea. Perhaps it was too early to ring the hospital, she decided, and then changed her mind, knowing that she wouldn’t be content until she had news of her father.

He was continuing to improve, said Night Sister; they hoped to take him off the life-support machine very shortly, and perhaps Beatrice would like to telephone later in the day.

Beatrice drank her tea and set about the day’s chores. There were several cats and dogs convalescing behind the surgery; she attended to them, fed Knotty a dish of tea and the bread and butter he fancied for his breakfast, and then went to wake the others.

Breakfast was almost a cheerful meal. ‘I’ll wait and see Mother,’ said Carol, ‘and then if everything is all right I’ll go back—I can go straight to the hospital if—if I have to.’

‘And I’d better go back, too,’ decided Kathy, ‘but you’ll let me know at once if I’m wanted?’

Beatrice looked at Ella. ‘You’d better go to school, love—Father will be disappointed if you don’t do well in your exams. Yes, I know you don’t want to—supposing we wait until Mother gets here and I drive you back in time for this afternoon’s paper—biology, isn’t it? Father would be so proud if you got good marks for that.’

Beatrice was clearing away after surgery when her mother arrived, and with her Dr Latimer. Her mother kissed her and said quickly, ‘Oliver brought me back—such a good man and so clever. Your father’s going to be all right, and we have Oliver to thank for that. He’ll stay if you want him to just to cast an eye over this locum you’ve arranged to see.’

‘You didn’t mind me seeing to that, Mother? We must keep the practice going well until Father can take over once again.’

‘I’m only too thankful that you were here to deal with everything.’

She turned round as Dr Latimer came in with her case, and Beatrice said, ‘I’ll get Mrs Perry to bring in the coffee; there’s still half an hour before that man comes.’

She smiled at him and thought how tired he looked—she had thought of him as a youngish man, but he looked pale and lined in the morning light. She was too worried about her father to bother much about the doctor; she went off to the kitchen and laid a tray while Mrs Perry made the coffee and got out the biscuits. By the time Beatrice got back, the other three were there as well as Miss Scott, and since everyone had a good deal to say and a great many questions to ask no one noticed that the doctor was rather quiet.

The doorbell interrupted them. ‘You go, dear,’ said Mrs Browning. ‘You know as much about the practice as your father. Do what you think best.’

By the time Beatrice had reached the front door, Dr Latimer was beside her. ‘The study?’ he asked, and went there while she went to the front door.

Worried though she was, she couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised by the sight of the young man on the doorstep. James Forbes was young, too, but thick-set and slow and pompous; and Dr Latimer, regretfully, seemed a lot older than she had at first thought. This man was splendidly different. She blushed faintly at allowing her thoughts to stray so frivolously. Guilt made her voice stiff. ‘Mr Wood? Will you come in?’

He smiled at her, self-possessed and charming. ‘Miss Browning? The agency did explain…’ They shook hands and she led the way across the hall to her father’s study, where Dr Latimer stood looking out of the window.

He turned round as they went in, and she introduced them. ‘Please sit down, Mr Wood—would you like a cup of coffee?’

‘I stopped in Salisbury, thanks.’ He glanced quickly at the doctor, who met his look with a bland one of his own. ‘I understand your father needs a locum for a month or two. I’m planning to go to Canada in the near future, so perhaps we might suit each other.’

He smiled at Beatrice, who smiled back; he was really rather nice and they might get on well together… She explained about the practice. ‘I have been helping my father for several years; I’m not trained, but I do a good deal round the surgery and help with operations.’

He asked all the right questions and she had time to study him. He was good-looking, with dark hair curling over his collar, pale blue eyes and a delightful smile. She found herself hoping very much that he would take the job.

Dr Latimer had said almost nothing, and she thought pettishly that he might just as well not be there; he was certainly giving her no advice. Not that she would have taken it; when Colin Wood suggested that he might start in two days’ time, she agreed with a readiness which made the doctor raise his eyebrows, but since she wasn’t looking at him that escaped her notice.

Only as she was explaining the working hours and when he might expect to have some free time did the doctor ask gently, ‘References?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Colin Wood shot him an annoyed look, and turned it into a smile as Beatrice looked up. He fished in a pocket and produced an envelope which the doctor took from him before Beatrice could do so. He read the small sheaf of papers closely, murmured, ‘Entirely satisfactory,’ and handed them back again. ‘Were you thinking of a contract of any sort?’ he asked casually.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ said Beatrice sharply, ‘if we have a gentleman’s agreement.’ She looked at Colin Wood. ‘You are prepared to work here until my father can manage without help?’

‘Oh, of course,’ he said easily, and laughed. ‘There, I’ve said that before a witness—what more can you want?’

‘Would you like to see over the clinic?’ offered Beatrice. ‘And your room—there’s a small sitting-room you can have, too.’

He rose with alacrity. ‘May I?’ He turned to Dr Latimer. ‘I’ll say goodbye, sir. I’ll have to go straight back and pack my things.’

They didn’t shake hands; the doctor bade him a grave goodbye and stood watching them from the window as they crossed the wide sweep of gravel to the surgery on its far side.

Presently he went back to the drawing-room where Mrs Browning was sitting with the three girls.

‘You approve?’ asked Mrs Browning.

‘He has excellent credentials and, what is more important, Beatrice likes him. He can come in two days’ time.’

‘You’ll stay for lunch?’

He shook his head. ‘I would very much like to, but I want to take another look at Mr Browning before I go back to town. But I’ll be down again and I will keep in touch with Dr Stevens.’

‘You’ll wait to say goodbye to Beatrice?’

‘Will you do that for me? I’m glad that things have been settled so quickly.’ He shook hands and within a few minutes had driven away; a few minutes later Beatrice came in with Colin Wood, who was introduced to them all before saying that he simply had to go but looked forward to seeing them again in a couple of days.

Beatrice saw him away in his showy little sports car, and went back to her mother and sisters.

‘Where’s Dr Latimer?’ she asked, and in the same breath, ‘Well, did you like him? I think he’ll be splendid—’

‘Oliver,’ said Mrs Browning gently, ‘has gone back to check on your father’s condition, then he is driving up to London, presumably to work at one of the hospitals. I only hope that he gets a rest during the day; he was up all night…’

‘All night? Oh, I didn’t know; that must have been why he was so quiet.’

Her mother said drily, ‘Probably. You’re satisfied that Mr Wood will do all right, darling?’

Beatrice nodded. ‘Oh, yes, Mother. I’m sure he will, and he doesn’t want a contract or agreement or anything in writing; he plans to go to Canada in a few months and wouldn’t want to stay anyway. He says there aren’t many good openings for a man without capital. He’s ambitious.’

‘I didn’t like him,’ said Ella suddenly.

‘Why ever not?’

‘I don’t know—I just didn’t like him.’

‘Well, that doesn’t really matter, for you’ll not see much of him.’ Beatrice spoke with unusual tartness. ‘There’s the phone—Father…’

It was Dr Stevens. ‘Your father is recovering well, phone here for news some time in the evening. There is no need for your mother to come again today; she needs a rest anyway. Dr Latimer will be down to see him tomorrow afternoon. I suggest your mother comes then, and she can talk to him then about your father.’

‘I’ll tell her. Thank you for all you are doing, Dr Stevens.’

‘It’s Dr Latimer that you should thank—we had a very anxious few hours during the night, but he dealt with the complications. He’s a very sound man, you know; you were lucky to have him.’

‘We are very grateful,’ said Beatrice, and put down the receiver slowly. Of course they were grateful, and she felt suddenly guilty because, in the pleasure of meeting Colin Wood, she had forgotten the doctor.

She did her best to make up for it the following afternoon. She and her mother had visited her father, who was conscious now and feebly cheerful, and then they were ushered into Sister’s office, where Dr Latimer and Dr Stevens were murmuring thoughtfully together. They turned impassive faces towards them as they went in, shook hands and offered chairs.

‘Well,’ began Dr Latimer, ‘your husband is coming along very nicely, Mrs Browning, but it will be a slow job—you do realise that? We’ll keep him here for a week or two, and when you get him home he will have to take things easily for some time.’ He smiled then, and Beatrice thought once again what a very nice man he was.

She said, ‘We are truly grateful to you, Dr Latimer. We can never repay you…’

‘My patient’s recovery is payment enough, Beatrice,’ he told her coolly, and for some reason she felt snubbed, not by his words but by his manner—perhaps in hospital he was impersonal to everyone, but he wasn’t the man who had watched the sunrise with her on Midsummer’s morning, or if he were he was taking care to hide it.

She accompanied her mother back home, and after they had all had tea Carol left to go back to her rooms in Salisbury and Kathy went off with her fiancé. ‘In the morning you can go back to school, Ella,’ said Mrs Browning. ‘The house will seem empty.’

‘Mr Wood will be here,’ observed Beatrice, and felt a little surge of excitement.

CHAPTER THREE

COLIN WOOD arrived the following morning with a great deal of luggage, several tennis rackets and a set of golf clubs. He was charming, too, and offered to start work at once.

‘Well,’ said Beatrice, ‘I must say that’s nice of you—I saw to morning surgery—there wasn’t anything I couldn’t manage by myself, but Mr Dobson—he has a big farm a mile or two down the road—wants someone this afternoon. He’s not quite happy about a cow due to calve. I told him you might be here in time to go.’

‘Splendid, that gives us time to go through the appointments book. I’ll unpack, shall I?’

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