An Ideal Wife Page 5

  Apparently it was, and when they arrived Mrs Grant was waiting for them, coffee pot in hand.

  * * *

  A busy day, reflected Louisa, putting the key in her door that evening, and thank heaven that it was Sunday in the morning. They would start all over again on Monday morning, she supposed, and then go back to Gussage-up-Chettle, keeping one step ahead of the patients. She had rather enjoyed it.

  * * *

  There was no news of Sir James on Monday morning, and the week, an ordered muddle which strangely enough worked well, wore on. It was on Saturday, her final day of the week at the doctor’s house, that Louisa made an interesting discovery.

  She had been left to prepare the notes of the patients he was to see at Salisbury that afternoon and was closing the diary when she heard voices in the hall. The doctor and someone with him. The door of the study was half-open; she opened it a little wider and saw him standing there, and with him a girl. No, a woman, she corrected herself. An elegant creature, delicately made up, with ultra-golden hair, and wearing a silky patterned dress. Not suitable for the country, thought Louisa waspishly. She was fashionably thin, indeed not a curve was to be seen.

  The doctor had seen her and it was too late to pretend that she hadn’t seen them; Louisa went into the hall.

  ‘Ah, Miss Howarth. Helena, this is Sir James’s receptionist and secretary, who is helping me out for the moment.’

  He glanced at Louisa. ‘My fiancée, Helena Thornfold.’

  Louisa was spared a brief glance before Miss Thornfold turned back to him.

  ‘Darling, you can’t go to Salisbury now I’m here. Cancel the patients or send Miss...to deal with them. I’m sure Sir James won’t mind. It’s ages since I saw you. Here’s your housekeeper.’ She ignored Rosie’s greeting. ‘Tell her to get lunch; I’m famished.’ She gave his coat-sleeve a playful tug. ‘You could go later.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Helena, I have to go now. I’ll drop you off on the way if you’re staying with the Colliers. I hope to be back tomorrow; we’ll see each other then.’

  Miss Thornfold’s mouth looked ugly; her large blue eyes narrowed. ‘I shall probably have other plans.’

  He said nothing, but spoke to Rosie, bade Bellow goodbye and picked up Louisa’s bag. They went out to the car in silence broken only by Miss Thornfold’s clear, high voice.

  ‘I do so like your dress,’ she told Louisa. ‘Not everyone’s style, of course, but you need to be careful, don’t you? When you’re big you have to wear clothes that don’t call attention to your size.’

  She smiled at Louisa and got in beside the doctor.

  Louisa sat in the back and fumed silently, but after a while she found herself feeling sorry for the doctor. His Helena might be beautiful, but she would make him a terrible wife. She listened to Helena talking almost without pause, sometimes lowering her voice and tinkling with laughter. She was lavish with the ‘darling’s, too. Whether the doctor liked that or not it was hard to tell; he said almost nothing.

  They were driving along different country roads; presumably the Colliers lived away from their usual route. Louisa glanced at her watch. There wasn’t going to be much time to allow for delay unless Helena was dropped off very shortly. There would be no time for their coffee and Mrs Grant’s quick updating.

  The doctor turned sharply between high pillars, along a curved drive and stopped before the imposing entrance of a large house.

  ‘Come in, just for a moment, darling,’ cried Helena. ‘A few minutes won’t matter.’

  Louisa couldn’t hear what the doctor said but she saw him get out of the car, open Helena’s door and say something again in a low voice. Helena glared at him and stalked away, and he turned back to the car.

  ‘Get in front, please, Miss Howarth. There’s still a small problem we must sort out before Monday morning.’

  * * *

  It was a warm summer’s day and Louisa longed to be out of doors instead of sitting in the waiting room making polite conversation as the patients came and went again. There were forms to be posted, brief notes to type and a few phone calls to make before she could go home. Mrs Grant had left soon after the last patient; Louisa had made tea and taken a cup into the consulting room but the doctor had barely glanced up.

  She had intended to go and see Felicity on Sunday—a brief visit after church—and then drive herself out of the city, away from the main roads. She would take a picnic...

  She was ready to leave at last. She tapped on Dr Gifford’s door and poked her head round it. ‘If there’s nothing else, I’ll go home. You’ll be here on Monday morning?’

  He glanced up. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Still no news of Sir James?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Let’s hope it’s soon. You’re tired, aren’t you?’

  When he didn’t answer, she added, ‘She’s all wrong for you, you know.’ And at his look of outrage, ‘There, I’ve let my tongue run away with me...’

  He said, in a voice totally devoid of expression, ‘Shall we consider that remark unsaid?’

  She opened the door wider and came further into the room. ‘That has always seemed to me such a silly thing to say. I mean to say, I’ve said it, so how can it be unsaid?’ She gave him a wide smile for he looked tired. ‘Don’t let it worry you; I dare say something will happen to alter things.’

  ‘What an abominable girl you are,’ said Dr Gifford very quietly.

  ‘You’re annoyed. I’ll go.’ She closed the door quietly and left the surgery and he went to the window and watched her walk briskly away. Presently he started to laugh.

  * * *

  Louisa, cooking her supper, comfortable in a dressing gown and slippers, thought about him. Of course, she didn’t like him, did she? But all the same she felt a vague concern for him. He was going to waste his life if he married Helena; she would hold him back from his work, which he undoubtedly loved, she would whine and moan and want things. And Rosie didn’t like her; Louisa remembered the housekeeper’s face when she had greeted Helena and been ignored.

  Louisa tasted the kedgeree and decided it was just right, spooned it onto a warm plate and took it to the little table by the window. Her fork halfway to her mouth, she put it down again. ‘Percy,’ she said in a loud, satisfied voice. ‘He’s just right for her. Now, how can I get them to meet?’

  * * *

  Dr Gifford, unaware of the future being mapped out for him, drove himself home. He wasn’t thinking about his patients, nor was he thinking about his future bride, he was thinking with a mixture of annoyance and amusement of Louisa.

  His home was blissfully quiet when he reached it. Bellow came to meet him, and Rosie left him in peace for half an hour before serving him a splendid supper. Helena didn’t phone; he hadn’t expected her to for she had been resentful at not getting her own way and would probably sulk until he made amends. And he had so much more to think about.

  So far, he had managed very well, and he had to admit that Louisa was a splendid help. An intelligent young woman, with good looks, she deserved a good husband. The doctor wasted some time deciding exactly what kind of man would be right for her and could not settle the matter to his satisfaction. Bellow put an end to his musing by demanding to go for a walk, and he dismissed her from his mind.

  In the morning Helena phoned, her tantrum forgotten. He could come and fetch her, she told him, and invite her to lunch. ‘There’s so much we have to talk about,’ she reminded him coaxingly.

  So he spent his Sunday in her company and Helena was careful to be amusing and to ask all the right questions about his work, displaying an interest which was, in fact, completely lacking. She was well content to marry Thomas; he had money—and that to her was important—a pleasant lifestyle and a home she had every intention of refurbishing once they were married. That she didn’t lov
e him was unimportant; she would have everything she wanted. Besides, she had a wide circle of friends, and once she was his wife she would change his lifestyle. He could take on another partner; there was no need for him to spend so much time at his surgeries. He could let a junior partner take the calls from the more remote patients which took up so much of his time...

  A young woman sure of her charm and good looks, she took it for granted that Thomas was in love with her. She had worked hard at getting him interested in her in the first place, but now he was safely hers she was becoming a little careless, allowing her selfishness and ill temper to show.

  But today she was being careful, due to a slight unease at the thought of Louisa. Not at all Thomas’s type, she told herself comfortably, but nonetheless someone of whom to be wary.

  They had spent the afternoon in the garden, sitting under the mulberry tree, reading the Sunday papers. ‘Like an old married couple,’ she had said with a little laugh, and now, over the tea which Rosie had brought out to them, she said casually, ‘You’re lucky to have such a competent girl to help you while Sir James is away. I dare say she’s clever?’

  The doctor fed Bellow a biscuit. ‘I’ve no idea. She understands her job and she’s observant, which is a great help.’

  ‘I found her quite lovely,’ said Helena.

  And when he didn’t reply she asked, ‘Do you admire that type? A lot of men go for it, all those curves...’

  She glanced down complacently at her own front, with not a curve to be seen. ‘So difficult to find clothes. Which reminds me, darling, I’ve bought the loveliest dress; you really must take me out so that I can wear it.’

  ‘Of course. As soon as Sir James is back and I can get back to a normal life again.’

  Helena laughed. ‘What you call a normal life. I can see that when we are married I shall have to change all that.’

  To which he said nothing. He looked placid and pleasantly relaxed, sitting there beside her, and it didn’t enter her head to wonder what he was thinking.

  * * *

  Louisa got up early on Monday morning, ate a splendid breakfast, dressed in another of her unassuming outfits, this time a smoky blue dress with a white collar and cuffs, and went to work. Dr Gifford wouldn’t be there until just before ten o’clock, when the first patient would arrive, but she had no doubt that there would be plenty of work for her to get on with.

  Mrs Grant hadn’t arrived yet, nor had Jilly, so she opened windows and drew back curtains, put the kettle on and went into the consulting room.

  Dr Gifford was at the desk, writing. He looked up as she went in, wished her good morning, and added, ‘Sir James will be returning late this evening. He suggests that he takes over on Wednesday morning and that we should deal with everything until then. I’ll stay until this evening and return here tomorrow morning. There is no need for you to come to Gussage-up-Chettle; I’ll stay late and look out the notes.’

  Louisa said, ‘Very well, Dr Gifford,’ and wondered why she had this sudden sense of disappointment. Wasn’t it something she had been hoping for ever since Sir James had gone away? She would miss the lovely old house and Bellow and Rosie’s kindness, and to be honest she was going to miss Dr Gifford...

  There was no time to say more and, in any case, it seemed that nothing more was going to be said.

  Mrs Grant, apprised of the news, expressed satisfaction, and Jilly, when she was told, said mournfully, ‘We shan’t see him again; it will be so dull when he’s gone.’

  ‘You’ll be too busy to be dull, my girl,’ said Mrs Grant bracingly. Unusually for a Monday, there were more patients than usual, and several of those came late, so that Louisa was kept busy offering soothing cups of tea and coffee to those who had perforce to wait their turn. It meant that their lunch hour was curtailed, while the doctor made do with coffee and biscuits before fitting in a visit to a hospital where one of his patients had been admitted. And the afternoon was just as bad.

  Mrs Grant, clearing up with swift efficiency, sent Jilly home and prepared to leave herself.

  ‘You’re coming?’ she asked Louisa.

  ‘Well, I hope so. I’ll wait a bit in case there are any letters or appointments to make.’

  She began to clear her own desk, but when the doctor opened his door and asked her to go in she picked up her notebook and pencil and went to sit by his desk.

  He had the appointment book open before him; tomorrow was as full as that day had been. ‘Could we run through these notes quickly? I shall be here all day but there won’t be time to check them tomorrow.’

  ‘But you’re going home this evening?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll be as quick as I can; it’s been a long day.’

  All the same it was a good hour later when he declared himself satisfied. He said stiffly, ‘I’m sorry to have kept you, Miss Howarth. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Louisa closed her notebook. ‘Did you have any lunch?’

  He gave her a look of faint surprise. ‘No.’

  ‘And only a cup of coffee... Are you hungry?’

  He smiled then. ‘Indeed I am, but I must get back; there is a patient of mine at Cranborne I must see before I go home.’

  ‘In that case,’ said Louisa, ‘you’d better come back to my flat and have a sandwich to keep you going. It’ll only take ten minutes or so and you’ll feel all the better for it.’

  He looked at her thoughtfully and then surprised her by saying, ‘Thank you, I would like that. If it’s not too much trouble?’

  ‘Well, I have to eat, too,’ said Louisa matter-of-factly.

  The drive to her flat took only a couple of minutes. She unlocked her door and led the way upstairs and into her little sitting room.

  ‘Sit down; I’ll be a few minutes.’

  She left him there, in her little easy chair which was too small for him, and went into the kitchen.

  Her cupboards were well stocked; she made ham sandwiches and coffee, and took them into the sitting room. The doctor was wandering round the room looking at the water colours she had hung on the walls. He sat down at her nod, observing, ‘Those are charming paintings.’

  ‘Yes, aren’t they? My home until Mother died. A family friend did them and Father gave them to me. Do sit down and eat something. It’s only sandwiches and coffee, but there’s plenty of both.’

  She watched him demolish the sandwiches; he must have been famished. She nibbled slowly so that he could have the lion’s share and fetched more coffee.

  They didn’t talk much; the next day’s patients had been dealt with, so for the moment they were free of their work. Louisa, casting about her for a suitable topic of conversation, asked, ‘Will you be going to the Woodleys’ ball? I’m sure Miss Thornfold must know them. Megan—the youngest daughter, you know—has got engaged, so it’s to be an especially brilliant affair.’

  She glanced up at him and saw his thoughtful look, and blushed. Of course, he would think that she was fishing for details of his private life...

  The doctor watched the blush, knowing quite well why it had appeared. It looked charming; his Helena had, as far as he could remember, never blushed. He said casually, ‘Yes, we shall be there. You will be going? They know almost everyone within miles around, don’t they?’

  Louisa handed him more sandwiches. ‘Yes, I went to school with Cissie, the eldest girl, and Father knew them well.’

  He finished the sandwich and put down his mug. ‘You have been most kind.’ He sounded remote; perhaps he had just remembered Helena. ‘I feel a new man.’

  He got up, and she got up with him, wished him a brisk goodnight, let him out of the flat and then went to the window and watched him drive away. He didn’t look up.

  She was still hungry, of course; one ham sandwich wasn’t very filling. She went into the kitchen, cleared away the plat
es and mugs, made herself scrambled eggs on toast and poured herself a glass of white wine. She was halfway through her meal when she gave a little whoop of satisfaction.

  The Woodleys’ ball. He was going with the horrid Helena, and Percy would be there. What a chance to engineer their meeting and get her off the doctor’s back. She didn’t pause to wonder if he would like that to happen, but began to think of ways and means.

  A pity that she had parted from Percy in a less than friendly manner. He was a conceited man, though. If she could contrive to charm him into going with her as her partner that would make her plans easier. A new dress, of course, and a wistful manner, and the diamond earrings to remind him of what he might have had...

  * * *

  The doctor, looking even more remote than usual, arrived punctually the next day. He was, as always, immaculately turned out, and he had the look of a man who had had a good night’s sleep. Louisa, as usual uttering her thoughts before making sure that they were suitable to utter, bade him a good morning and asked if he had had a pleasant evening with Miss Thornfold.

  The look he gave her would have shattered a lesser mortal, but Louisa was made of sterner stuff. ‘All work and no play,’ she reminded him, and gave him a sunny smile.

  It was another busy day, and at the end of it there were the last-minute arrangements to make. Sir James, presumably, would be at his desk at his usual hour in the morning.

  ‘Will you be here?’ asked Louisa, arranging the diary and calendar just so on Sir James’s desk.

  The doctor glanced up briefly. ‘Yes, Miss Howarth.’ That was all he had to say until they were getting ready to leave, when he thanked them all for their help before going back to his desk.

  The three of them stood on the pavement, exchanging end-of-the-day gossip before going their various ways.

  ‘He’ll be glad to get back to his own surgery,’ said Mrs. Grant. ‘You’ll miss your trips to Gussage-up-Chettle, won’t you, Louisa?’

  ‘Yes, it made a nice change. I suppose that if he’s going to help Sir James from time to time we shall see him occasionally. But there won’t be any need for me to go there again.’