A Country Affair (3 page)

“Is that enough potato for you, Kate?”

“Oh yes, thanks.”

She told them the story of Perkins and Adolf, of the old lady worrying about the toilet and how very ill her cat was and how she didn’t know what she would do if she died. And if Adam came, she wasn’t in.

“Not in!” Gerry choked on a carrot. “Not in!”

“I can’t stand him tonight. Tell him I’ve gone to bed with a migraine.”

“You never get migraines.”

“Well, a bad head, then. I’m too tired to bother with him.”

Mia said gently, “Don’t be unkind to him, Kate. He is genuinely concerned; he’s rung twice, after all.”

“All right, then. I’ll see him but I’m going to bed early.”

“Well, he’ll understand that.”

“So he should; he’s always having to get a good night’s sleep because he has a ‘big day’ tomorrow.”

Her father chased the last of his peas around the plate and, having secured it, said, “I don’t understand why you have such a down on him. He’s a grand chap and I like him. He’s got some worthy principles that I greatly admire. You’ll always be safe with him.”

Kate placed her knife and fork together on her empty plate. “Oh, very safe, but absolutely bored to tears. Is there a dessert?”

“Your favorite, my love, apple sponge.”

“With cinnamon?”

Mia nodded. Kate rubbed her hands together. “Just what a woman needs when she’s been at the coal mines all day.” They all three heard the front door open and a voice call out, “It’s me, Adam, the man of the moment.”

Kate raised her eyebrows at Mia and they both giggled. Mia answered, “I know what you’re doing, Adam Pentecost, and I have said before there’s no need to take your shoes off when you come here.”

His voice, muffled by his exertions, could just be heard: “Mum would kill me if she ever found out I hadn’t taken them off.”

Mia and Kate giggled again.

Gerry frowned at them and shouted, “Come on in, son. You’re just in time for some dessert.”

Adam stood in the doorway, glowing with self-satisfaction. Kate liked tall men and he was certainly that, but he was so thin he gave the impression of having outgrown his strength like a runner bean or something. Suitably, given his name, his Adam’s apple was bigger and bonier than most, and bobbed up and down when he spoke; his shoulders were narrow, his bottom nonexistent no matter which trousers he wore. Even with all of that, there was something very appealing about him, a kind of vulnerability that made women feel he needed mothering. Kate could tell he was bursting for someone to ask him his news. “You’ve got something exciting to tell us, haven’t you?”

He tried to dismiss his news as trivial but then couldn’t resist telling them. “No, no, no, it’s nothing, really. Well, it is. I’ve been short-listed for that promotion.”

Mia congratulated him. “Oh, I am pleased. Your mum will be delighted.”

Adam looked for a response from Kate. “That’s lovely,” she said.

“There’s four of us, but I’m the most likely one to get it. Longest service and all that. Second interview on Friday.”

“You’ll have to get that best suit out.” Kate put his dessert in front of him and gave him her spoon. “What will it mean if you get it?”

“I shall be second assistant to the deputy. It means another three thousand a year and a move to a vastly superior office. There’ll just be the two assistants sharing instead of ten of us in that terrible temporary building. Another step up the ladder.” Adam spooned apple sponge into his mouth, his self-satisfaction reaching new heights now that he had an admiring audience.

“This calls for a celebration, son! That red wine you bought, Mia, get a bottle out.”

When they’d all finished their dessert, they moved from the kitchen into the sitting room; and Mia fussed about sorting out their best, long-unused wineglasses from the 1930s glass-fronted cabinet, giving them a surreptitious wipe first on a corner of her cardigan.

Gerry opened up the wine and took time sniffing its bouquet and studying the clarity of it by holding up the bottle to the window. “Try that, Adam, son, first rate I think you’ll find. Mia’s a gem at hunting down good wine.” He flashed her one of his loving smiles, which Mia didn’t notice.

They’d been sipping their wine and admiring it, and listening to Adam outlining the changes in his working practices if he got the promotion, when he suddenly interrupted himself and said, “Kate! I’m sorry I’m so taken up with my promotion. I’ve forgotten to ask you about your day.”

“I’ve had an excellent day, the best day of my life to date.”

Adam patted her hand. “That’s good, I’m really pleased. Nice people to work with?”

“Absolutely!” For sheer devilment she overemphasized the merits of the male vets. “Scott’s Australian and he’s such fun, Adam, you’ve no idea. As for Rhodri Hughes, well! He’s Welsh, which is obvious from his name, and he’s handsome and he sings! And the clients all adore him. Terribly good vet. And you should see Valentine Dedic! Eastern European and sort of like Omar Sharif, olive skinned, and his smile! It’s Open Afternoon on Saturday. I shall be busy but would you like to come? You’ll come, won’t you, Mia?” Mia nodded. “Are you coming, Dad? Last chance to see the operating rooms and the like, and a free feed.”

Gerry grunted but it was difficult to know whether it was a yes or a no. Kate turned to Adam and waited for his answer.

“I think I should like that; I think that might be very interesting. Yes, I’ll come. We could celebrate afterward, couldn’t we? Me getting the promotion and you getting a good job.”

Gerry interrupted Adam’s fantasy with an emphatic “No. Not good enough, Adam, for Kate. She can do better than that. I want her to try again for veterinary college. Don’t we, Mia?”

“It’s Kate’s decision. What do you think, Adam?”

“Frankly, I think she’d be happier doing what she’s doing. Five years’ hard work is a long time out of a life, and what’s the point when she’ll get married, settle down, have a family? She doesn’t need to do it. No, not at all. She’s better off where she is. Definitely.”

“Who says I’ll get married?”

Adam shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “Well . . .” Rather lamely he ended with, “There’s someone not so very far away from you this very minute who would be delighted if you said yes to him.”

“You mean
you
?”

Mia nodded to Gerry and they both slipped out quietly, leaving Kate laughing fit to die.

“I don’t think it’s that funny. I’ve been courting you for two years now. It’s not altogether unexpected, is it?”

“Courting me? Courting me? So that’s what you call it, is it?”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? I thought I was.”

She stopped laughing because she realized she was being cruel, and that wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry, sorry for laughing, but I don’t think a girl could have had a more peculiar proposal ever. Marriage is the last thing on my mind. Heavens above, I’m nineteen, that’s all, and I’ve things to do with my life before I start thinking about babies and mortgages. Because I’m a woman it doesn’t mean I take a job just to fill in time before I get married. I’m after a career. You’re like something out of the ark, you really are.”

Adam’s dark-brown eyes looked searchingly into hers. She reached out sympathetically to touch his hair and found he’d put too much gel on it. “You’re all sticky.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, if you want to settle down, as you put it, right now, then find someone else because honestly, Adam, I am not ready for marriage just yet.”

“Even if you want to wait for us to get married, there’s still no need to try for college again, is there? I mean, is there?”

“No. Only if I want to.”

“I love you, you see. There’s no one else for me, and with this promotion it makes it possible for—”

“Adam! You’re tempting fate saying that. Stop it! Let’s change the subject. Shall we go out for a drink?”

“Do you think we should? I’m wanting some early nights, you know, second interview Friday . . .”

Kate sprang up off the sofa. “Right then, you go get your early night. Be seeing you.” She left the sitting room, leaving him to follow as and when. It might be an idea to try for college, she thought, just to spite him, him with his boring old-fashioned views. At twenty-five his attitude toward life was older than her dad’s. Kate heard the quiet closing of the front door from the kitchen, where she was getting herself a drink of water. Mia looked at her. “Well?”

“There was no need to leave unless you were just too overcome with merriment to stay. Don’t worry, I’m not marrying him now or ever. I’m going to bed. He is such a
bore.
” Kate went upstairs, after giving Mia a goodnight kiss.

Gerry waited until the door was firmly shut and then asked Mia, “Did she say
bore,
or did she say
boor
?”

“The former for sure. Which he is; she’s too lively for him. He’d snuff all her spirit out of her inside a year. Please, Gerry, don’t encourage him.”

“But he is a nice, reliable chap. He’d look after her, not half, and he and I get on really well.”

“And that just about sums him up.”

“Eh!”

In bed, Kate let her mind wander to Scott. She honestly could not imagine
him
wanting an early night because he had an interview on Friday. He’d be far more likely to be living it up somewhere—preferably, she speculated, with Kate Howard in tow. Then, blotting out that enthralling idea, came the memory of the warning that she’d had from Joy about taking him with a pinch of salt.

Chapter
2

S
aturday morning dawned cloudy but dry, for which Joy heaved a sigh of relief. It was still only six o’clock, so she lay down to snatch ten more minutes of peace before she got up. Her list of things to check was by the telephone downstairs and she resisted the idea of dashing down to take yet another look at it. Open Afternoons were no joke for the staff, at least not for her. The younger ones seemed to take them in their stride, but for her the smooth running of them entailed meticulous planning and, frankly, she had enough on her plate with the practice opening in a new building without the clients galloping about all over the place, though she knew she would enjoy it when it all started to happen. She turned over to find herself the only oxccupant of the bed. That particular discovery did not augur well for the rest of the day.

Joy sat up, drew up her knees, wrapped her arms around them and thought. Where could he have gone? So early too. Please, Duncan, please. Not today. But he would if he wanted. Nothing could stop him, not pleas, or cajoling, or shouting, or complaining—and certainly not begging. She smiled grimly when she thought what she did every day of her life, namely stand by her man. Would it be better if he didn’t go to the Open Afternoon at all? No one would miss him, for Duncan was no conversationalist. No, she’d not remind him. Just go off as if it were an ordinary day and she was going to work. Which in part she was, as emergencies had to be dealt with by someone; one couldn’t leave an animal in pain simply because they all wanted to have fun. Mungo and she would be on duty.

The very mention of his name could still melt her bones. They’d known each other for more than twenty years; she’d been his first receptionist when he set up for himself, and she’d stayed with him through all the ups and downs of his life. The worst had been when his darling Janie had been killed in that ferry disaster. After that, for almost two years he’d lived on automatic pilot, unapproachable, silent, detached; but she’d put up with all that and just when she thought her moment had come, he’d arrived out of the blue one afternoon with his new bride in tow: Miriam. Joy’s pain and shock had been so great that she felt as though Miriam herself had taken dozens of knives and forced them straight through her heart. But she’d kept answering the phone, counting money, making out receipts, helping clients and making appointments as though having one’s heart torn asunder was an everyday occurrence and not to be permitted to hinder one’s devotion to duty.

The devil of it was that this Miriam was the nicest, kindest, loveliest, gentlest being any man could hope to have as a wife, or any woman hope to have as a friend; and that was exactly what Miriam had determined on, that she and Joy should be friends. Strange thing was, considering Joy’s devastating disappointment, it wasn’t difficult to be Mungo’s wife’s friend. After fifteen years Miriam still considered Joy her great friend, not suspecting for a moment how Joy felt about Mungo. Joy knew that even now Miriam would be up and about, getting the desserts and the savories she’d made for the lunch buffet out of the freezer, checking her lists of things to do and all for Joy’s sake, not for the sake of the practice.

Thinking about Miriam didn’t solve the problem of Duncan. Where the blazes was he? It was always the same when he was in the midst of one of his computer problems: He became totally absorbed by his work, with time for nothing and no one until he’d got it resolved; then gradually he came alive again and was reasonable to live with, and was more like the Duncan he used to be. Joy got out of bed and went to stand at the window. She could see way down the valley, could watch the road winding away down into the town, the gulls swirling and swooping in the brilliant sky, the cows returning to the fields from the milking parlor—all this but no sign of Duncan wandering about. Maybe he had been in the house all the time.

Joy showered, dressed, dried her hair and went downstairs. She found Duncan fast asleep in the armchair in his office. Dead to the world. His hands felt cold, so she fetched a rug from the linen chest on the landing and covered him. Why could he never find peace?

Duncan woke just as she was brewing the tea for her breakfast. “Bring me a cup!”

“You lazy monkey! Come and get your own, and eat with me.”

Duncan ambled in and sat opposite her at the table.

“You know how much I hate unwashed people at breakfast.”

He yawned. “Sorry! I’ll go and wash.”

“No, that’s all right; I’ll let you off. Here, toast?”

“Please.”

“You don’t eat enough.”

“Tea?”

“Please. Working?”

“Yes.” Joy felt deceitful and toyed with the idea of telling him about the lunch and the Open Afternoon, but she couldn’t judge his mood. His heavy-lidded eyes in their deep sockets hid much from everyone including her; his high, domed forehead gave the impression of an excellent intellect and she could vouch for that, but spiritually she knew he craved peace of mind and it showed in the perpetual frown and the twitch by his right eye when things got too much for him.

“How are you today?” she asked.

Duncan was doing his Indian head massage to relieve his tension. When he’d finished, he combed through his hair with his fingers to straighten it and said, “Not bad, actually.”

“Fancy an afternoon out? Well, lunch really.”

“With you, you mean?”

“Me and about twenty others. It’s the Open Afternoon. Lunch for staff and spouses et cetera at twelve, then open house till five.”

Duncan nodded. “Yes, I’d like that. Yes, definitely.”

“That’s a date, then.”

“I’ll find my own way there.”

“Are you sure? I could always come back for you.”

“Not at all, you’ll have enough to do.”

“Thanks, I will. I’ll get ready and be off; we’ve clients till eleven.” Joy kissed him, glad he was feeling well enough to go.

T
HE
next time she saw him he was in conversation with Kate in the accounts office. The computer was on and he was explaining something to her. She was nodding, obviously deep in thought, and he was more animated than she had seen him for a while. “OK, you two?”

They both looked up, said at the same time, “Yes, thanks,” and went back to what they were saying.

“You’re needed for lunch in the apartment. Right now, or you’ll be too late. Sorry.”

Duncan apologized. “We’re coming. We’ll talk about that later, Kate. It’s so easy.”

“For you maybe.”

“No, for you too.”

Kate laughed. “I doubt it. My hold on computer technology is slight to say the least.”

“You do yourself an injustice. You’ve grasped the concept; having done that, you’ve nothing to fear.” Duncan stood back to allow Kate through the door first and they sauntered amicably up to the apartment, followed by Joy. The cheerful noise of people enjoying themselves came down the stairs to greet them. Joy quaked with anxiety, wondering how Duncan would cope, but she’d forgotten how Miriam could always put him at his ease.

With arms wide stretched Miriam called out, “Duncan! You’ve come.”

She embraced him with such open, genuine love that he succumbed to her warmth and found he could face the crowd with comparative enthusiasm.

“Joy! Hurry up or it will all be gone. Mungo! Drinks for Duncan and Joy, and for Kate—it must be Kate?” She kissed her too, briefly, on the cheek and Kate caught a drift of a flowery, old-fashioned perfume. “What will you have, my dear?”

Kate asked for mineral water.

“
Mineral water
on such an auspicious day?”

“I’ll have something stronger when the clients have gone. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“Wise girl. Come along and get some food; just pile up your plate. I don’t want anything left over of this labor of love for Mungo and me to finish off.” She grinned at Kate, who immediately felt drawn into her enchanted circle. She, Miriam, wasn’t a beautiful person as such but somehow her joie de vivre made her so, and the large brown eyes and the well-rounded cheeks became beautiful without the aid of makeup. “Mungo! Where’s Kate’s mineral water?” Mungo didn’t respond, so Miriam raised her voice. “Dearest! Mineral water for Kate. You’re deserting your post.”

Mungo came over with Kate’s drink. “Here we are, Kate.” He raised his own glass to her and said, “Hope you’re getting well settled in.”

“Thank you. I am. I have to say it’s a pleasure to work here; everyone is so helpful and so kind to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it otherwise. There’s no point in working with animals if you don’t like both them and people, and I’m not talking about some slushy kind of sentimental love; I’m talking about
liking
them. There’s no place for selfish sentimentality in veterinary work, you know.”

“Indeed not.” Kate felt something brush against her leg. “Oh! It’s you. Hello, Perkins. You’ve forgiven me for throwing water over you, then?” Kate bent down to stroke him and he looked at her with a happy grin on his face, only his small front teeth showing between his parted lips. As she patted him, Kate looked up and gave Mungo a wide smile. “Isn’t he great? He’s the only dog I know who looks as though he’s laughing . . .” Seeing the expression on Mungo’s face, Kate stopped speaking. His color had drained away and his normally pleasant features had become pinched and anguished. His glass was rattling against his wedding ring, and to Kate’s eyes he appeared to have experienced a tremendous shock. She was too inexperienced socially to know how to cope with the situation and all she could think to say was, “I’m so sorry if I’ve offended you.”

Mungo visibly pulled himself together. He took a quick sip of his gin and said in a curiously uptight voice, “About the accounts. Do you feel confident about them?”

“I will shortly. There’s a lot to get my mind around but I’ll get there.”

“Where did you learn?”

“I’ve worked Saturdays at Apex Costings for what seems like a decade and for some reason with what I’d learned at school I picked it up really quickly.”

“Logical mind, that’s what’s needed. Must circulate.” Mungo gave her an unhappy smile and wandered off to Miriam, who appeared to sense his desolation and, slipping an arm through his, offered him a plate of food. “Can’t have you going out on a call the worse for drink, dearest.” She handed him a fork and napkin, briefly kissed his cheek and dashed into the kitchen on some pretext or other.

Joy had witnessed the whole incident and, at the same time as Mungo had received his shock, she had seen what he had seen in Kate’s laughing face and knew Kate would be dumbfounded by his reaction to her. So that was why Kate had so appealed to her at the interview. “Kate, you’re not getting anything to eat. Come along now. We can’t have you falling by the wayside halfway through the afternoon. Have your mum and dad not come?”

“They felt too shy to come for lunch so they’re coming later in the afternoon. Have I said something I shouldn’t? Like, been too familiar? Mr. Price looked really angry with me.”

Joy said, “He’s not angry with you, trust me. Probably indigestion—lives on his nerves, you know. Now, what will you have? Miriam has certainly done us proud, hasn’t she?”

A
T
two o’clock the cars began to arrive by the score. Graham Murgatroyd had his work cut out organizing the car park, and Scott, who had been given the job of welcoming everyone at the main entrance, as only he could, and giving each visitor a map of the building, was in need of support. Joy, who’d been rushing around since eight that morning and was feeling distinctly jaded, rather than help Scott herself sent Kate to give him a hand and to get her out of Mungo’s way. Joy went to supervise the girls in the reception area serving cups of tea and slices of Miriam’s cakes to the clients on their way around the hospital. Duncan was comfortably seated in the reception area with a cup of tea, watching the world go by. At least he’d stayed; that was something. “OK?”

“Fine, thanks. They’ve done a wonderful job, haven’t they, building this place? The capital involved! It’s so well done, so pleasant; it’s worth every penny.”

“Glad you like it. It’s taken a lot of planning.”

“I’ve been listening to the clients’ comments. They’re well impressed. The client list is bound to increase.”

“Do you think so?”

“I certainly do. When you think of those cramped premises the opposition has in the High Street, I reckon that practice will be out of business in six months. I mean there’s nowhere to park, for a start.”

“Out of business! Oh, I hope not. I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

Duncan looked at her and said, “Take a pew for five minutes. You deserve it.”

Joy flopped down on the chair next to him

“Cup of tea?”

Joy nodded. Duncan walked across to the long table where Bunty and Sarah One were pouring the tea. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything for her in the way of looking after her. He was so totally absorbed by himself and his work that sometimes she could kick his computer to the bottom of the garden or better still into the sea at high tide. For a moment she enjoyed the idea of his being free of the damned thing, free as air, the frown gone, the twitch cast into oblivion. Oh, happy day!

As Duncan walked back toward her, Mr. Featherstonehough came in. “Well, I’ve come. I said I wouldn’t, but I have. If you’re going to murder my Adolf on these premises, I might as well see for myself what they’re like.”

Joy jumped up. “How lovely of you to come. I am pleased to see you!”

“You are? I’m amazed.”

She ignored his sarcastic tone and asked if he’d like tea and cakes first or to have a look around. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Perkins hurtled into the reception area, braking the moment he realized that Adolf wasn’t with his master. His tail began to wag and he greeted Mr. Featherstonehough like an old friend. The old man couldn’t resist his welcome and bent down to stroke him. “Oh, I see. I’m OK when Adolf isn’t with me.” Perkins wagged his tail even harder and trotted away through the back.

“I’ve written to the Royal Veterinary College, you know, telling them what goes on. It’s not right.”