An Ideal Wife Read online

  But supposing Helena did? Remembering her own visits to the doctor’s house, Louisa reflected that even though he worked hard his household was run on very comfortable lines—there had been no cheeseparing there. There had been no ostentatious display of wealth either, but she had no doubt that he maintained a lifestyle far removed from the one that Percy was lecturing her about.

  Louisa said, ‘Oh, indeed, yes,’ in an interested voice, and lost herself in thought. Supposing that were so? Would Helena insist on changing everything? Dr Gifford would put up with that if he loved her, but it would change him. Louisa suddenly wanted him to stay as he was—tiresome and terse and aloof, but nonetheless happy in his home.

  ‘And there’s Bellow and Rosie,’ said Louisa, speaking her thoughts out loud.

  Percy paused in his measured summing up. ‘What did you say? I don’t care to be interrupted.’

  Louisa murmured, and Percy cleared his throat preparatory to resuming his monologue, but fortunately the music stopped and Louisa said quickly, ‘Oh, look, Felicity is beckoning. I’d better go...’

  Halfway across the room she was halted by Dr Gifford. The hand on her arm was urgent. ‘One of the guests has been taken ill; Mrs Woodley has asked me to see her. Will you come with me?’ He smiled a little. ‘You’re a sensible woman and will do whatever I ask you to without fuss.’

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ said Louisa. ‘Yes, of course I’ll come. Aren’t there any nurses here?’

  ‘No, if there had been I wouldn’t have troubled you. And no one is to be told.’

  He walked her unhurriedly to one of the doors and strolled through with her in tow. ‘Upstairs,’ he said then, and urged her across the hall and up the great curved staircase.

  Mrs Woodley was waiting for them in the gallery above. ‘In here,’ she told them as she glanced at Louisa. ‘Oh, good. You’re so sensible, Louisa.’

  Twice in five minutes, thought Louisa. I wonder what they would think if I should faint gracefully all over the patient?

  The girl lying on the bed was pale and frightened, and the young man holding her hand was even paler. Dr Gifford paused to look at them and took charge of the situation with calm ease.

  ‘It’s the baby,’ said the husband. ‘We’ve been dancing...’

  Dr Gifford said kindly, ‘How many months? Pain? Uncomfortable? When did this start?’

  ‘About fifteen minutes ago.’

  ‘Then I’ll take a look, shall I?’ He looked at Mrs Woodley. ‘I expect you want to get back to your guests. I’ll just make sure that everything is all right, and, if necessary, Louisa will let you know what’s happening.’

  Mrs Woodley nodded and went away, and the doctor said cheerfully, ‘Now, Mr... I don’t know your name...’

  ‘Davidson.’

  The doctor laid a large, comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. ‘I’d like you to go to another room for a while. Miss Howarth will stay here and be with your wife while I examine her. It won’t take long.’

  Mr Davidson kissed his wife and went, and the doctor said in a soothing voice, ‘Now, Mrs Davidson, I’m going to make sure that everything is all right. It won’t hurt, and Miss Howarth will hold your hand. Have you felt any discomfort before this evening?’

  He was quick and gentle and calmly sure of himself. Presently he said, ‘Everything seems quite all right. All the same, I think that the best thing would be for you to go home and go to bed. Tell me the name of your doctor and I’ll let him know what happened and ask him to visit you. Where do you live?’

  ‘Tollard Royal; we came with the Jefferies.’ Mrs. Davidson tugged at Louisa’s hand. ‘We can’t ask them to leave, it’s still early.’ She had a small, very young face and she had been crying.

  Louisa said bracingly, ‘Don’t worry, Dr Gifford will think of something.’

  He was washing at the basin in the corner of the room. He dried his hands, rolled down his shirtsleeves and got back into his jacket before saying easily, ‘I’ll drive you and your husband back, Mrs Davidson. Miss Howarth will come with us to keep you company. Shall we let him know?’

  The two men talked for a minute or two, then the doctor asked, ‘Does anyone know if there is a back staircase? I’ll get the car and have it at a side entrance. Stay just as you are; I’ll carry you down when I come back. Louisa, come with me and find the back stairs, and get your wrap. When you get back here, perhaps Mr Davidson will find your friends. Explain that your wife has developed a shocking headache and you’re taking her home, that you have a car—say you borrowed it—make some excuse. Then come back here as soon as you can, and bring your wife’s wrap with you.’

  He caught Louisa’s hand and urged her out of the room. ‘You’re a friend of the family. Which is the quickest way out?’

  She knew the house well. A wide corridor branched into two passages, and at the end of one were the back stairs.

  ‘Good girl. Now, off you go and be quick about it.’

  He disappeared down the stairs and she went to find her wrap and go back to Mrs Davidson, who was in tears again. Louisa cuddled her in her arms and murmured soothingly. ‘Don’t worry; I’m sure everything will be all right. I believe it’s quite usual to have these scares, and you’re young and strong, aren’t you?’

  She was mopping Mrs Davidson’s unhappy face when first her husband and then the doctor returned. ‘You told Mrs Woodley?’ he asked Louisa.

  She nodded. ‘I said you’d let her know.’

  He grunted, picked up Mrs Davidson and carried her down the stairs, through a damp, dark passage and out of a side door leading to a deserted courtyard.

  ‘Get in the back,’ he told Louisa, and when she did so he settled his patient carefully beside her. ‘Put your arms around her and hold her steady.’ He turned to Mr Davidson. ‘Get in, there’s a good chap. I’ve got hold of your doctor; he should be at your place by the time we get there.’

  As the crow flew the Davidsons didn’t live all that far away—but the country lanes took no heed of a crow; they wound their own, wandering ways and didn’t encourage speed. Louisa, holding Mrs Davidson close, was relieved when the doctor stopped outside a thatched house standing well back from the road in a large garden.

  Louisa, sent ahead to turn down the bed, blundered around looking for light switches and pulling curtains. How like a man, she reflected crossly, sending her upstairs in a strange house and expecting everything to be just so within seconds. Mr Davidson hadn’t been of much help either; he had rushed to the phone, intent on making sure that the doctor understood the urgency of the case. Dr Gifford, quite unflurried, bore his patient upstairs, laid her gently on the bed and suggested in a voice which expected no denial that Louisa should undress Mrs Davidson and call him the moment it was done.

  Mrs Davidson was weeping again. Louisa, helping her out of her—fortunately—few clothes, kept up a steady flow of chat. ‘And I can’t go on calling you Mrs Davidson. My name’s Louisa...’

  ‘Mary—and my husband’s Ricky. I’m so grateful to you and Thomas—he told me to call him Thomas; he’s a dear, isn’t he? Everyone likes him.’ Mary, distracted for a minute from her own woes, added, ‘Such a pity he’s got engaged to that Thornfold girl—’ She broke off at the sound of voices, and a moment later all three men came into the room.

  Dr Gifford didn’t stay, though; he waited long enough for Ricky to say something cheerful to his wife and led him away. ‘You’ll stay, of course,’ he said to Louisa as they went.

  The Davidsons’ doctor was elderly, with a lovely, soothing bedside manner, and Mary, reassured as to her well-being, cheered up.

  ‘I guessed that you might be feeling a little nervous at being alone with only your husband.’ He glanced at Louisa. ‘Your friend and Dr Gifford will want to return to their party, so I phoned an excellent nurse who takes private cases; she should b
e here within half an hour or so. She will stay for a day or two until you feel quite yourself again and she will report to me.’

  He went away presently, and Louisa sat Mary up against her pillows. ‘You’d like me to wait until the nurse comes?’

  ‘Oh, would you? Ricky is a darling, but he wouldn’t know what to do. I’m sure she won’t be long.’

  ‘Shall I go and make a cup of tea while we’re waiting?’

  ‘Would you? Ricky may have done that.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘We have a housekeeper but she doesn’t sleep here.’

  Her husband came then, and Louisa went down to the kitchen, a cosy place, splendidly equipped. The two doctors were in the room across the hall, and she could hear the murmur of their voices. She put the kettle on and poked her head round the door.

  ‘Tea? Or there’s coffee.’

  They turned to look at her, blandly polite in their refusal. She shouldn’t have disturbed them. When eggheads got together they didn’t need mundane things like cups of tea. She bore a tray upstairs and found the Davidsons holding hands. This was no place for her either; she made a quick excuse about seeing to the doctors and went downstairs again with her own mug. She drank her tea in the kitchen, feeling rather hard done by.

  She was tidying things away when the nurse arrived. After five minutes with the doctors, she took over with a friendly competence and lack of fuss. She had gone straight to her patient, but presently she came into the kitchen.

  ‘Joan Wright. I hear you’ve been everyone’s right hand. A good thing that Dr Gifford and you were on hand. He’s one of those reliable men who always turns up when he’s wanted.’

  ‘Oh, you know him?’

  ‘Goodness me, yes. Worked for him on and off for years. I’m to tell you that he’s ready to leave; he thought you might want to say goodbye to Mrs Davidson first.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. But isn’t there anything I can do for you? Make up a bed or get a tray ready for you?’

  ‘Bless you for the thought. There’s a small guest room with the bed made up, and I had supper only a couple of hours ago. I shall creep down in the small hours and boil an egg.’

  ‘Will Mrs Davidson be all right?’

  ‘So far there’s no damage. If she stays quiet for a day or two we shall soon know.’ She smiled. ‘You must be longing to get back to the ball.’

  Louisa said, ‘Yes,’ rather uncertainly. Excuses and explanations would have to be made to Percy and Felicity, not to mention Helena, although that would be Dr Gifford’s lot. She didn’t envy him!

  The Davidsons were too self-absorbed to do more than utter vague thanks and goodnight, and she couldn’t blame them. She found her wrap and went down to the hall and found the two doctors standing at the open door.

  ‘There you are,’ said Dr Gifford in a voice which suggested that she had kept him waiting for a long time. She gave him a cross look, shook hands with his colleague and presently they got into the car.

  Let him be the first one to speak, she reflected; a few graceful words of thanks and an apology for spoiling her evening wouldn’t go amiss.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ It was so unexpected that she turned to look at him. He turned his head briefly and smiled. ‘I’m famished.’

  ‘Yes, so am I.’ It was difficult to speak coldly with her head filled with the prospect of a meal. There didn’t seem to be any more to say so she kept silent, watching the narrow, dark road ahead of them. Presently she said, ‘We didn’t come this way.’

  ‘No. We’ll go to my place and have a quick meal before we go back to the Woodleys’.’

  ‘But it’s just past midnight...’

  ‘I think it likely that the ball will go on well into the small hours. We can spare an hour or so.’

  ‘But won’t Helena notice if you’re not there?’

  ‘It is to be hoped that Witherspoon will reassure her.’ He sounded as though he was laughing. ‘It is to be hoped that he has missed you, too, and is feeling anxious.’

  ‘I don’t suppose...’ began Louisa doubtfully.

  ‘My dear girl, of course he has missed you. How could he fail to do so? That is a charming dress you are wearing.’

  Louisa drew a calming breath. If her companion was trying to needle her she would ignore him. Her ‘Thank you’ was straight from the freezer.

  It was disconcerting when he said, ‘I’m sorry, that was a nasty thing to say. Your dress is charming, but so are you, Louisa—by far the most beautiful woman there. It won’t be just your Percy missing you; every man there will be wondering where you have got to.’

  Louisa closed her mouth, which had fallen open in amazement. ‘Well, I never... It doesn’t sound like you at all.’

  ‘It must be the night air and all this extra activity. If Rosie is in bed, do you suppose you could make some sort of a meal? I’ll make the toast.’

  ‘Eggs,’ said Louisa. ‘Bacon, perhaps? There may be some soup we can warm up. Baked beans... Perhaps you don’t eat those?’

  ‘Why not? There’s nothing quicker or more filling when I’m called out at night and I’ve missed dinner.’

  Louisa sat silent. This was a side to Dr Gifford she hadn’t discovered. He was quite human after all.

  Shortly after he turned in at his own gate and stopped before his door. The house was in darkness save for a dim light in the hall. He unlocked the door and ushered her in, and at the same time Bellow came hurrying to meet them, and Rosie, wrapped in a cosy red dressing gown, started towards them.

  ‘Sorry if we woke you, Rosie,’ said the doctor. ‘Someone was taken ill at the ball and we took her home. Go back to bed, my dear; we’re going to have something to eat and then go back to the Woodleys’.’

  Rosie smiled. ‘There’s plenty in the fridge, Mr Thomas.’ She eyed Louisa. ‘That’s a pretty dress, Miss Howarth, fit for a pretty young lady, if I may say so.’

  ‘Thank you, Rosie. You don’t mind if I make sandwiches or something?’

  ‘Lor’ bless you, of course not.’ She nodded at the pair of them. ‘I’m off to bed, then. Mind you lock up when you go.’

  The doctor said, ‘Yes,’ in a meek voice.

  The kitchen was warm and welcoming, with the Aga damped down for the night, the great dresser against one wall and the solid table at its centre. There was a tabby cat asleep in a basket, and Bellow got back into his once he saw that there was no late-night walk intended. But, well concealed behind the cupboards and shelves and copper saucepans, Louisa discovered a massive fridge.

  ‘Scrambled eggs and smoked salmon?’ she asked. ‘Brown bread and butter, toast—a Welsh rarebit? A pork pie. Does Rosie make them herself?’

  ‘Yes. We can spare just under an hour, so start cooking, Louisa.’

  ‘Yes, but which?’

  He sounded surprised. ‘Why, the lot, of course.’

  Louisa was a good cook; the scrambled eggs were done to creamy perfection, the salmon just sufficient, brown bread and butter cut very thin, black pepper and lemon, and then the Welsh rarebit, bubbling crisply on the doctor’s toast. They ate the pork pie, too, and washed the whole lot down with mugs of coffee.

  They ate in a companionable silence broken only by a few desultory remarks about the evening’s activities. They had both been there so there was no point in talking about it. They agreed that Rosie’s pork pie was something not to be missed, and Louisa observed, ‘You really have everything, Dr Gifford...’

  He poured the last of the coffee. ‘Not everything, Louisa. And isn’t it about time to stop calling me Dr Gifford? My name is Thomas.’

  ‘Well, since you’ve started calling me Louisa, I suppose I could call you Thomas. But not when we’re at work.’

  ‘A wise decision. Do you wish to go back to the Woodleys’? Or shall I take you back to your flat?’

&n
bsp; ‘Oh, the Woodleys’, I think, then I can explain to Percy.’ She got up from the table and wrapped one of Rosie’s pinnies around her. ‘I’ll wash—you wipe. You’ll have to explain to Helena...’

  She shouldn’t have said that; he gave her a blank look and said silkily, ‘Helena knows the Davidsons quite well. Naturally she will be concerned.’

  A polite snub. He had invited her to call him Thomas, but that hadn’t meant that they could say what they liked to each other. She said, coolly polite, ‘How very fortunate it is that it is such a lovely night for the Woodleys’ ball; rain would have cast rather a damper on it.’

  He agreed gravely, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

  The kitchen restored to its pristine state, Louisa discarded her apron, knelt to give Bellow a hug and declared herself ready to go. She was on the floor, her arms around the dog, her skirts billowing round her, when Thomas, shrugging himself into his jacket, asked, ‘You don’t want to do your hair or your face or rearrange anything?’

  She got to her feet. ‘Oh, am I untidy? Is my nose shining? And my hair...’

  He stood staring at her. ‘As far as I can see, you look as though you have just come out of a bandbox. Let’s go.’

  He parked the car in front of the Woodleys’ grand entrance and they went in together. ‘I think if we were to dance and mingle with everyone else we should look less conspicuous.’

  He didn’t wait for her to agree but swung her onto the floor. They circled the room once and were halfway round it again before they saw Percy and Helena dancing. But before they could get near them Felicity, in the arms of a dour, red-faced man, was beside them.

  ‘There you are. Where have you been? You missed supper.’

  ‘One of the guests was taken ill—nothing serious, but she needed to go home,’ said the doctor smoothly. ‘Louisa kindly came with us and saw her safely into her bed.’