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He laughed as he went up the stairs two at a time. ‘One day I’ll surprise you,’ he promised her.
* * *
‘I told you to come early, Titus,’ complained Angie Marshall as he offered apologies and an armful of roses.
‘Got held up?’ asked Dr Marshall easily. ‘Come in and have a drink. There’s no one else coming so we can talk shop if we want to. You’ll come to Angie’s dinner party at Christmas, won’t you? She’s rooting round for a suitable young woman to capture your attention.’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘We had a busy day. Stayed behind to catch up on the paperwork?’
‘No.’ Titus had sat down opposite his host and hostess in the comfortable drawing-room. ‘I had a talk with Arabella.’
‘Nice little thing. Worried about something, is she?’ He glanced at his wife. ‘You’d like her, Angie. A pity you can’t find her a good husband.’
‘No need. She’s going to marry me,’ said Dr Tavener.
‘Bless my soul! She’s exactly right for you, Titus. You should have brought her along with you this evening.’
‘I left her Hoovering and muttering about dripping taps.’
Mrs Marshall laughed. ‘Titus, she sounds a dear and just your sort. Not in the least sentimental, and practical as well. Is she very in love with you?’
He answered calmly. ‘Not in the least. Nor I with her, but we like each other and agree about everything which we consider important. I have every expectation that our marriage will be an enduring success.’
‘We’ve known you for a long time—years and years,’ said Mrs Marshall, ‘and I was beginning to think that you would never marry. We’re so happy for you both, Titus.’ She added, ‘She will be nice to come home to, my dear.’
He smiled. ‘Angie, what an understanding woman you are. A good thing James appreciates you.’
‘We’ve been married for sixteen years.’ Dr Marshall sounded smug. ‘Bring Arabella here for dinner and let her see how successful marriage can be.’ He added, ‘Oh, lord, we’ll have to find another caretaker.’
‘How about the ex-bus driver?’
‘A good idea. I’ll get Miss Baird on to it first thing in the morning.’
The three of them spent the rest of the evening in undemanding talk and later the two men went to Dr Marshall’s study to discuss their various patients. It was late when Dr Tavener arrived back at his house; Mrs Turner had gone to bed. He put the car away in the mews garage and took Beauty for a walk through the quiet streets, feeling content.
* * *
Arabella was content too. Her mind was made up and she had no intention of altering it. She had seen enough sad results from friends who had married in a blaze of romance and come to grief within a few years to know that liking the same things—books, music, a way of living—as well as pleasure in each other’s company were more likely to last even if they lacked excitement. Of course, she admitted to herself, being in love would be marvellous too, but it was obvious to her that Dr Tavener wasn’t a man to waste time over romance and, since both of them had nothing but liking for each other, she could see no reason why their marriage shouldn’t succeed.
True to his word, Dr Tavener made no attempt to speak to her, the weekend came and went, and suddenly the week was up.
Everyone but the two doctors had gone home. They stood in the hall talking; Arabella could hear them as she collected her cleaning things from under the stairs. Perhaps he wouldn’t come—perhaps he expected her to go upstairs... She heard Dr Marshall laugh and the front door bang shut and a moment later Dr Tavener came down the stairs. He took her broom and dusters from her and ushered her back into the room. ‘Never mind that now,’ she was told briskly. ‘Will you marry me, Arabella?’
He could have been asking her to post a letter for all the emotion in his voice. But what else had she expected? She sat down and waved him to a chair. She said, ‘Yes,’ and, since that sounded a bit terse, added, ‘Yes, thank you. I will.’
‘Splendid. We can go ahead with our plans. You can leave here at the end of this week—there’s a caretaker lined up to start on Sunday. I’ll get a special license—James Marshall will give you away—we can be married quietly...’
She said tartly, ‘You said our plans—you seem to have taken it for granted that I would agree to everything you have arranged.’
‘I’m sorry—oh, I’m sorry! That was unforgivable of me. All this week I have been planning and plotting. Say what you wish to do, Arabella, and you shall have your way.’
She said seriously, ‘Well, actually, it all sounds very sensible. Where am I to go?’
‘I have a house in the country—in a village midway between Tetbury and Malmsbury. My grandmother lives there—would you go and stay with her for a few days while I arrange things? Would you object to being married in the village church?’
‘No. I’d like that very much, but perhaps your grandmother...I’m a stranger...’
‘Not quite, you have met her—she brought her companion to see me.’
‘Oh, so she knows who I am?’ She sighed. ‘That I’m the caretaker?’
He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. She also knows that you’re a very nice girl who will make me a good wife.’
‘I shall do my best.’
He leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘We are agreed that there will be no false sentiment between us? Friends, companions, willing to allow each other to enjoy privacy without rancour, enjoying each other’s company, spending our leisure together if we so wish.’
‘If that is what you want,’ she said steadily. ‘You will help me, won’t you? You have friends—perhaps you entertain sometimes?’
‘Fairly frequently.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘And now I shall be able to enjoy that...’
‘No more marriage-minded ladies to vex you!’ She gave a chortle of laughter. ‘They will think that you have gone mad when they see me.’
‘In that case they will no longer be our friends. Tell me, Arabella, have you enough money? You will want to buy some clothes perhaps?’
‘I’ve enough to start with. I expect I shall want more clothes after we’re married if I’m to look like a consultant’s wife. You want me to go and stay with your grandmother—but I must do some shopping.’
‘Of course you must. Let me see. If I can get the new caretaker to take over on Saturday instead of Sunday would a couple of hours on Saturday morning be enough? I’ll drive you down in the afternoon. When you’re there you could get to Bath—Butter could drive you there.’
‘Who is Butter?’ It was like turning the leaves of a book, discovering something fresh on every page.
‘Oh, he and Mrs Butter run the house.’
‘Then if you don’t mind I’d rather shop there and spend Saturday morning packing up here. What about Percy and Bassett?’
‘They will go with you, of course. You have some things you would like to keep from here?’ His cool eyes swept the room. ‘The china and silver and so on? I’ll have the tea-chest delivered and it can be taken round to Little Venice. The furniture?’
‘There’s nothing I want to keep, only Mother’s work table.’ A dainty mahogany stand with a faded silk bag. ‘When—when do you think we should marry?’
‘A week—ten days’ time? But only if you agree to that... If you have no objection we might marry on a Saturday morning and come back here on the Sunday.’
‘So that you can see your patients on Monday? That seems a sensible idea.’ She saw the look of relief on his face and reminded herself that their marriage was to be a friendly arrangement which mustn’t interfere with his work.
He went presently. At the door he said, ‘I very much dislike leaving you here, Arabella. Must you dust and clean?’
‘Well, yes, it’s my job, which I must do while I’m here...’
He threw an arm round her shoulders. ‘When we are married you need never touch a duster or a dish-mop for the rest of your days.’
‘A prospect no girl could resist. Will you let me know when the new caretaker is coming so that I can be ready for him?’
‘Tomorrow. Take care, my dear.’
She bustled through her chores—there were only two days to Saturday and there were things to be done. Her clothes would pass muster until she could go shopping; they weren’t in the forefront of fashion but Titus wouldn’t need to feel ashamed of her. There were her precious bits and pieces to pack carefully and the place to set to rights so that the new caretaker would get a good impression. She told the animals about it while she got their suppers and then she started to wrap up her china and silver with the exception of necessities for the next day or two. She went to bed much later than usual, happily planning what was still to be done.
Dr Marshall sent for her the next morning. ‘Well, well,’ he said jovially, ‘so you are to leave us, although I hope that we shall see a great deal more of you in the future. Of course I never thought that you would be with us for long, Arabella, and may I say that I am truly delighted for you and Titus. I’m sure you will be very happy together. Titus has arranged for the new man to call this morning so that you can show him round and explain things. You can let Titus know when it is convenient for you to be fetched on Saturday. You must come to dinner and meet my wife, although I’m hoping you will ask me to give you away at your wedding in which case perhaps she might accompany me?’
‘Of course,’ said Arabella warmly. ‘And thank you for saying you’ll give me away. I—I haven’t any family living nearby and in any case I don’t think they would be interested.’
* * *
The new caretaker was a middle-aged man, a cheerful cockney who had been made redundant from the buses and was delighted to have a job and a home again. He was a widower, living in a room near the Elephant and Castle and only too happy to move away from there.
He inspected the basement and pronounced it first-rate. ‘I’ll ’ave ter get some bits and pieces of furniture,’ he told her. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t leave the curtains and the matting? I’ll pay yer, of course.’
‘You can have them for nothing,’ said Arabella, liking the man, ‘and I’d be glad to leave the furniture and the saucepans and so on. You see, I’m going to marry and don’t need any of them.’
‘Cor, bless my soul—yer really mean it?’
‘Yes, of course I do. I’m going to make us a cup of coffee and explain the job to you and presently, when the last morning patient has gone, I’ll take you round and show you everything.’
‘That’s a nice little dog you’ve got there—and a cat. I’ve got a cat meself. No objection to ’aving ’er ’ere, I suppose?’
‘Well, I was allowed to have Percy. Bassett isn’t really allowed, only I found him and he hadn’t anywhere to go. A cat’s company though, isn’t it?’
‘That she is.’ He looked around him. ‘This is a bit of all right, I can tell you.’
‘It’s a good job and everyone’s very kind. If you’ve finished your coffee we’ll go upstairs. Could you come on Saturday morning about eleven o’clock? I’ll leave the bed made up with clean sheets and there’ll be milk and bread and some food in the pantry. After you’ve cleaned up you are free on Saturday. I went shopping then—there are all the shops you’ll need five minutes’ walk away. The narrow road on the left as you leave the house. The doctors like the doors to be shut and locked and bolted when they are not here and I check each evening before I go to bed. I expect Dr Marshall told you about answering the door? You’ll find the receptionist, Miss Baird, very kind and helpful.’
He went away presently and she gobbled a sandwich and had more coffee before going upstairs to answer the door to the afternoon patients.
There had been no sign of Dr Tavener. It was Miss Baird who told her that he had gone to Birmingham and would not be back until Friday.
‘I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you, Arabella,’ she said kindly, ‘and wish you happy. Dr Tavener is a splendid man. I’m sure you will deal excellently with each other.’
Arabella thanked her. ‘I don’t quite know when we are to be married.’
‘We shall miss you—all of us...’
‘Thank you. I have been very happy here, you know. The new caretaker seems to be a very nice man, and so delighted to have work again.’
She was up very early on the Saturday morning, dusting and Hoovering and putting fresh flowers in their vases, and after a quick breakfast she changed into her suit, tied her overall over it and checked that everything was ready for Mr Flinn, before going upstairs ready to open the door.
He came punctually and since there was a lull in the stream of patients she took him downstairs to show him the pantry, explain about the milkman, and point out the list of usual directions she had left on the table.
Dr Tavener hadn’t been in and despite her good sense she felt a prickle of apprehension that he had forgotten all about her or, even worse, had second thoughts about marrying her. The idea was absurd, she admitted to herself, and it was only because she was excited and uncertain—a fact borne out by his quiet arrival just before noon.
His hello was friendly and the placid enquiry as to whether she was ready ruffled her feelings. Anyone would think, she reflected crossly, that getting married was a fairly regular event in his life.
He was in no hurry to go either, but stood talking to Mr Flinn before remarking that he would send Butter round for the tea-chest some time that afternoon, scooping Bassett up under one arm and picking up Percy’s basket with the other hand. ‘Said goodbye to everyone?’ he wanted to know.
‘Yes,’ said Arabella and shook Mr Flinn’s hand and wished him well. In the car she said, ‘I thought you said that Butter lived in your other house?’
‘Quite right, he does. He’s coming up today so that he can drive you down this evening. I’ve an appointment I must keep this afternoon but I’ll come down later tonight. My grandmother is expecting you and Butter will take good care of you.’
If I were beautiful and charming and well-dressed, thought Arabella crossly, I would throw a tantrum, make a scene and have him grovelling for treating me like a parcel.
She went red when he said, ‘I’m sorry I can’t drive you down—this is something which cropped up this morning and it really must be dealt with.’
He glanced at her pink cheeks and smiled a little. ‘Would you agree to the wedding next Saturday? Will that give you enough time to do your shopping?’
‘Yes, thank you. Are Percy and Bassett to come with me to your other house?’
‘Of course, and we’ll bring them back with us on the Sunday. Bassett is turning into a very well-mannered dog and Percy is happy wherever you are, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. You don’t think they’ll run away?’
‘At the manor? No. There’s a high brick wall around the grounds and Beauty’s brother, Duke, will keep an eye on them.’
Mrs Turner met them at the door and Arabella, who had been secretly nervous of her reception, was relieved at the warmth of her welcome.
‘I’ve been telling the doctor he should take a wife these years past,’ said Mrs Turner, leading her away to tidy herself. ‘And with respect, Miss Lorimer, I think he’s chosen well. I’ll be glad to serve you.’
‘Why, thank you, Mrs Turner.’ Arabella stopped and held out a hand. ‘Shall we shake on that? I’m sure you know exactly how the doctor likes things done.’
‘Indeed I do. Easygoing he may be, but he likes things just so, as you might say. When will you be marrying, Miss Lorimer?’
‘Next Saturday. I hope you’ll come to the wedding; it’s to be very quiet.’
‘Nothing would keep me away, miss.’
&nbs
p; Arabella was left to pat her already neat head to even more tidiness and add a little lipstick, and since she was feeling a little nervous she didn’t hurry over it. Presently she went back into the hall and was instantly hailed by the doctor from a door at the end of it.
‘In here, Arabella. We’ll have a drink before lunch.’ He held the door open for her as she went into the room. It was small and cosy with a bright fire and easy-chairs and rows of bookshelves. The window overlooked the garden and the canal and there was a round table under it with two mahogany dining chairs on either side of it.
‘I have my breakfast here and you must use this room as your sitting-room—your mother’s work table will look exactly right here, won’t it?’
He pulled up a chair for her to one side of the fireplace and nodded to the three animals sitting in a tidy row before the fire—Bassett in the middle. ‘I dare say Beauty will adopt him if Percy allows her to.’
He handed her a glass. ‘Champagne—for we have something to celebrate, do we not, Arabella? Here’s to us and our happy future together.’
Arabella drank. ‘Oh, I do hope so,’ she said fervently.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS MID-AFTERNOON when Arabella left with Butter in the dark blue Jaguar car which he had driven up. He had greeted her with obvious pleasure and gone away to the kitchen to have a quick lunch before taking her back and now she sat beside him, with the animals on the back seat, conscious that she should be feeling happy and content and aware of a faint prickle of unease. Titus had been kind and thoughtful of her comfort, putting her at ease in what might have been an awkward situation, but all the same she had sensed that he was relieved to see her go. Whatever it was—or whoever it was—he had to deal with that afternoon must have been important. A girlfriend? she wondered uneasily. After all, he had told her that he had fallen in and out of love many times. Perhaps whoever it was was unable to marry him? Married already, or just not wanting to be his wife. He would be going to say goodbye... She brooded over this sad fact of her imagination until it seemed to be true and, being a romantic girl at heart, she could have wept for him. Indeed, if she had been by herself she would have done so but Butter, after a lengthy silence, took it upon himself to tell her about the house they were going to.