Healing in the Hills Page 12

  ‘You may as well stay here for supper,’ Mrs. Kynoch said to Brena as she emerged from the following car. ‘Mrs. Fletcher’s left a cold meal ready. We’ve only got to make the salad, which won’t take more than a few minutes. And by the looks of the boys, they won’t want much rocking tonight, Brena. All you and Veronica will have to do is wash off a bit of the sand and sea water and pop them straight into bed.’ When they went indoors they found Lewis already pouring drinks for James and Sally, who had arrived ahead of the others. It was a pretty large party which eventually sat down around the dining-room table. Ismay was content to sit and eat the food on her plate and listen to the conversation which was going on around her, looking at the family with new eyes in the light of the discussion she had had earlier.

  It seemed stupid now to think that she could have made such a silly mistake. What had made her imagine that Lewis and Felicity were married? But there had been nothing apart from the separate bedrooms to tell her any differently. And since the girls usually called everyone except their grandmother by their Christian names it had never dawned on Ismay that it was Alec who was ‘Daddy’ and not Lewis. The only time when she might have added two and two, she remembered, was the occasion when after Lewis had been in to look at her, and Ismay had remarked to Anne that she was lucky to have a doctor for a father, Anne, she now recalled, had looked puzzled for a second before she nodded agreement. Of course she had looked puzzled. Her own father might be a doctor, but he was of little use to her four or five thousand miles away in South America.

  But they were all soon to learn that Alec Kynoch was good deal nearer than that. They were just clearing up and stacking the used crockery into the dishwasher when the telephone rang, and Lewis came back from taking the call with a slip of paper in his hand. ‘That was a cable for you, Felicity. Alec is flying home tomorrow. He wants you to meet him at London Airport.’

  ‘And how am I to manage that?’ asked Felicity peevishly. ‘It’s much too late to leave tonight, and by the time I get down to London from this benighted place I expect he’ll be already here.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the journey,’ Lewis reassured her. ‘I can fix it for you. Jack Wetherby will fly you from Carlisle. I’m going up to the hospital in the morning. I’ll give him a ring now and see if he can fit you in. He’ll get you there in tons of time to meet Alec’s plane. It doesn’t get in until late afternoon. Wait while I phone Wetherby,’ and he walked away again,

  Ismay, as she went between kitchen and dining-room, could hear him talking into the telephone. Rather to her surprise neither Anne nor Clare seemed in any way dismayed that they were not included in the trip to London to meet their father after his long absence. Perhaps they were so used to his comings and goings that they no longer felt that they wanted to greet him at the first available minute and were quite happy to let their mother go off alone to do the honours and meet his plane.

  Ismay thought it very unusual. Most girls with the chance not only of seeing their father after a long parting, but of going by air to meet him, would have been pestering to go along too, but neither seemed to have the least inclination to join their mother when she left the following morning, and rather to Ismay’s surprise, Felicity arrived downstairs much more soberly dressed than usual in a neat though expensive-looking navy blue suit with a pale primrose-coloured blouse and small matching silk beret. It was difficult to decide whether it was Brena’s direct broadside yesterday or the imminent arrival of her husband which had brought about a change in her behaviour, but Felicity seemed almost subdued in her manner and even thanked Ismay when she offered to carry out the small suitcase and put it in the boot of Lewis’s car.

  It was surprising what a difference her absence made to the atmosphere in Little Grange. Although she was so frequently out of the house there were always undertones when Felicity Kynoch appeared, a feeling of tension in the air. Although she never actually did anything for Anne or Clare, she was constantly criticizing the efforts of those who did sometimes even those of her mother-in-law—not that old Mrs. Kynoch appeared disturbed by the often audible asides which Felicity made from time to time.

  It was equally obvious too that Anne and Clare had far more respect for their grandmother’s judgment and opinions than they had for their own mother’s. Lewis himself when he arrived home from hospital the first evening of Felicity’s departure seemed a different person, as if he too had had a burden lifted from off his shoulders. When Brena and Stephen strolled up to the house from the cottage about nine o’clock for a late cup of coffee and a liqueur, Lewis was relaxed and amusing, teasing Stephen unmercifully about his fan club. ‘Oh, have you got one?’ Anne asked innocently, whereupon Stephen, to Ismay’s intense astonishment, looked uncomfortably embarrassed.

  It was Ismay’s first acquaintance with a real celebrity and she thought he must be singularly unusual to be so modest about his successes. Brena, after one glance at her husband’s reddened face, answered for him. ‘Fan club! Well, I don’t think you’d exactly call it a club, but you should see the piles of letters we get, most of them asking for signed photographs. I’ve told Stephen many a time we ought to have a glamorous-looking picture taken, but he utterly refuses, so we have a girl up in town kept pretty busy writing back and thanking the addressees for their request but saying that “Stuart Blair is sorry, he never sits for photographs”,’ and she giggled irrepressibly as she gazed up at her large husband.

  ‘You should have one taken with your arms round Brena and send that to them,’ Lewis suggested. ‘That should choke them off.’

  ‘No good,’ Brena sighed. ‘We’re often photographed together as you well know, but it doesn’t seem to damp the fans’ ardour in the least. I can’t tell you how many ties Stephen’s lost and how many good suits and shirts he’s had ripped. Some of the girls can’t be quite normal, I’ve decided.’

  ‘Not normal! Because they think I’m the handsomest, most adorable man in the world?’ Stephen asked her impudently.

  ‘They want to live with you for a bit,’ Brena replied promptly, ‘and find out how desperately untidy you are. How you always squeeze the toothpaste from the middle, despite the fact you know I hate it,’ and the pair of them went off into gales of mirth as if they thought these two minor complaints were singularly funny.

  It was possible, Ismay thought, gazing at Stephen and Brena, that this was some sort of private joke between them. It looked to her like a well-rehearsed act, for there was no doubt about the world of affection in their eyes as they gazed across the room at one another.

  The following day Alec rang up to say he and Felicity would be staying in London for a few days, so this meant they would miss the dinner party which Mrs. Kynoch had arranged for Wednesday evening. In order that Veronica might be included the Three Musketeers, to their evident delight, were coming to sleep up at Little Grange for the night. Several people whom Ismay had already met had been invited, including Dick Watson and his mother and father, the two doctors and Mrs. Young, the vicar and his wife and an old friend of Mrs. Kynoch’s, William Burns, who apparently lived on the other side of Derwentwater.

  Clare and Anne were to be allowed to stay up and Mrs. Fletcher was busy the whole of the day before the dinner party making preparations seeming, Ismay thought, to be in her element as she bustled around the kitchen seeing to all the little touches which would contribute to the success of what looked like a gargantuan feast.

  The girls produced blue cotton voile dresses with high necks and billowing sleeves, and they coaxed Ismay into pressing them on the morning of the dinner party. Alone in her own room later Ismay realized that she had nothing half so pretty to wear herself, having only packed two evening dresses, one of which was not formal enough for an evening such as Mrs. Kynoch had planned. She finally decided to wear the blue-grey floor-length silk dress which had been bought when she was bridesmaid to one of her cousins earlier in the year. At the wedding Ismay had worn flowers in her hair and a necklet of rosebuds, but without e
ither of these accessories the dress, she decided, would be quite suitable for a country dinner party.

  When she had dressed Ismay brushed her hair until it shone and let it hang loose on to her shoulders, and without a single item of jewellery apart from the gem-like sparkle of excitement in her eyes, she went downstairs to join the others, her small suede slippers making no sound as she reached the hallway.

  There was the murmur of voices and the tinkle of glasses coming from the direction of the drawing-room, and she stood unnoticed for a second or two in the doorway, surveying the occupants of the room. Nearest to her were Stephen and Mrs. Young, deep in what looked like a very absorbing conversation with the vicar; settled in her favourite armchair Mrs. Kynoch sat talking to an elderly greyhaired man with the massive shoulders of a former rugby forward; on the window seat Roy Young had Clare, Anne and Veronica a happily captive audience and at the far end of the room Brena was laughing at something which James Kynoch had just said to Sally and Mrs. Blyth, the vicar’s wife, while leaning on the mantelpiece were old Dr. Young and Lewis with their heads together. The only people who had not yet arrived were the Watson family, but as she stepped into the room Ismay heard a ring at the front door.

  Old Mrs. Kynoch beckoned and Ismay went across and was introduced to the elderly gentleman at her side. William Burns rose rather clumsily to his feet and held out a hand to take Ismay’s. His eyes almost disappeared into the fat creases of his face as he smiled an acknowledgment of Mrs. Kynoch’s introduction. ‘I’ve heard about you from Dodo several times, lass. You’re the one who’s been so marvellous looking after young Anne,’ he went on, and Ismay was glad of the interruption of Stephen at her side, asking her what she would like to drink. She accepted a sherry and seeing Mrs. Kynoch and Mr. Burns, occupied again with one another, wandered over to join Roy Young, Veronica and the girls. By the time she had done so Dick Watson had also joined the group, and they were still there talking together when Mrs. Fletcher, who had stayed late to serve the meal, came to announce that dinner was ready.

  Like most north-country meals, it was very substantial. Hors d’oeuvres of infinite variety were followed by a huge sirloin of beef which Lewis carved expertly. It made Ismay think of the Christmas dinners in hospital when the surgeons always turned up to carve the turkeys. When everyone had cleared their plates for the second time, Mrs. Fletcher returned carrying fruit flans with jugs of fresh cream. Although she felt she had eaten sufficient to feed a regiment, Ismay could not resist accepting a small portion of the apple pie in front of her and found that as usual Mrs. Fletcher’s pastry positively melted in the mouth.

  She was not alone in thinking she had over-eaten, because just as she finished the last mouthful, Brena, on the other side of the table, clasped her waistline and said over her shoulder, ‘Mrs. Fletcher, if I stay up here very much longer eating your meals I’ll never be able to dance another step.’ Everybody joined in laughter at her remark, not only at Brena’s melancholy tone, but the idea of such a slender creature as herself putting on weight was unthinkable.

  ‘It’s not you who’ll have to be careful, my love,’ Stephen said, ‘but me. If I put on a stone or two while we’re here the only part I’ll get when we get back to London is as one of the fat clowns in Billy Smart’s circus!’

  They all went back to the drawing-room to have coffee and liqueurs, and once more the party regrouped itself. This time Ismay found herself sitting with James Kynoch and Brena on a small three-seater settee in the sun-room. It was not at this hour warm enough to go and walk in the garden, for a fairly stiff breeze had blown up during the afternoon, and Ismay was pleased as she passed one of the radiators to notice that the central heating had been turned on.

  She was finishing her first cup of coffee when Roy Young wandered out of the drawing-room, and coming over, drew up a stool beside her. ‘First time I’ve had an opportunity to talk to you alone all evening—at least, more or less on our own,’ he began. And then as Ismay looked sideways at James and Brena he said, ‘Oh, they won’t hear us, they’re in the middle of one of their heated discussions, as I could see as soon as I came in. Brena’s a bit radical, you know. And James is quite the opposite. You see, they’ll be at it hammer and tongs for the next ten minutes or so. They wouldn’t notice if we stood on our heads.’

  Ismay began to smile. Roy’s remarks were often colourful, but as she looked at James and Brena she could see that he was quite correct in his estimate that they were completely oblivious to the two other occupants of the room. Brena was just saying, ‘If you’d only listen to the trade unions,’ as James broke in to say something equally vehement in defence of the Tory policy. Roy got up, took Ismay by the elbow and gently raising her out of the chair, wandered her over to the french doors at the far end of the room. ‘I don’t think I’ve laid eyes on you, except over a sickbed, for the last six or seven days.’

  Ismay smiled. ‘Well, I did come up here primarily to look after Anne, you know, not to have a gay social life.’

  ‘You call going out for an evening to Keswick a gay social life?’ Roy rolled his eyes upwards. ‘My goodness, you must be easily pleased. And I thought you lived in London.’

  ‘I do. I mean I did when I was in hospital,’ Ismay corrected herself.

  ‘Then you don’t miss all the bright lights?’ Roy asked. ‘Sometimes I get sick and tired of birds tweeting, heather and fat sheep.’

  ‘You wouldn’t if you lived in the smoke,’ Ismay assured him. ‘One gets equally tired of the roar of the traffic and the fumes of exhaust pipes, believe me. I’m quite happy to go back to Cambridge on my off-duty days, and get at least a sniff of fresh air.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Roy took out a pipe. ‘I remember now you told me you came from Cambridge. I was there once several years back at one of the May Balls.’

  ‘Funny,’ Ismay said, and smiled at him, ‘how everybody connects Cambridge only with the university. There is a commercial side to the town, as well you know.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s a university with a town, not the other way about, if you get my meaning,’ Roy replied.

  ‘You mean the university came before the town and is just incidental to it. I suppose you’re right.’ Ismay’s voice was thoughtful. ‘It’s quite different from Oxford, of course. They’ve got far more industry there.’

  ‘What on earth are we wasting time rabbiting on about university towns for?’ Roy inquired impatiently. ‘I’d much sooner talk about you. Now then, when do you think you’re going to get time off to come and have dinner with me? I’m not on call next Tuesday. Do you think you’ll be able to fix it up?’

  Ismay glanced over her shoulder. ‘I can’t tell you definitely at the moment. Felicity, as you know, has gone to London to meet her husband, so when she comes back it may be that Anne’s father will consider her quite well enough to do without my services, and I’ll be sent packing.’

  ‘Most unlikely,’ Roy interrupted her. ‘If I know anything about Alec he’ll insist that you stay and have a holiday to compensate you for all that you’ve done for Anne. It’s the best thing the Kynochs ever did getting you here. Even with his mother and brother here Alec must have been very anxious about Anne when he heard she was having an operation on her knee. He’s devoted to both of his girls, as you probably know.’

  Ismay did not know anything about Alec Kynoch’s character, but she refrained from saying so. ‘Well, anyway, on the offchance that you’ll be free,’ Roy went on, ‘I’ll book a table for us at a little pub I know about ten miles from here. I think you’ll like it and then we can have a few drinks afterwards and saunter home. I can’t be very late, unfortunately, because I’m on call from midnight.’

  Ismay felt there was nothing else she could do but provisionally accept Roy’s invitation. Would there be any more reaction, she wondered, on Lewis’s part when he discovered that despite his warning to her on the evening before Anne had had her fall she was once again going out on a date with Roy?

  But Lewis,
Ismay discovered in the days that followed, continued to treat her in precisely the same manner which he had adopted since the night when he followed up his advice by kissing her so mercilessly. He was friendly but completely impersonal in his manner. She no longer looked up as she had once done to find his eye upon her. He no longer made any attempts at a verbal sparring match, and when Tuesday came round and he met Ismay on her way to where Roy Young was waiting beside his car, he merely waved a hand and said, ‘Hope you both have a good time,’ before he turned and went into the house. Apparently he was not a man to repeat himself. She had shown him that his advances as well as his advice were unwelcome and he was not going to give her a chance of rebuffing him a second time.

  At the end of that week Alec and Felicity Kynoch returned and Ismay immediately saw why it was that Felicity had amused herself with John Ross. She had always wondered why someone as beautiful and captivating in appearance as Felicity could waste her time on such a sober conventional person as John Ross appeared to be. Alec, physically at least, was almost his exact double. He was as tall as Lewis and Stephen but a good deal slighter in build, his hair was greying and he must have spent so long peering into a microscope that he had the appearance of being a little myopic.

  Anne and Clare, to Ismay’s relief, seemed delighted to see their father and fussed around him all evening, thanking him repeatedly for the rather curious presents which he had brought them back from South America. There were several grotesque wooden masks, obviously the work of some of the native Indians, blowpipes and darts. The only thing which Ismay really coveted and thought beautiful was an embroidered shawl which Alec had brought home for his mother.

  The next few days were completely uneventful and there was no suggestion that Anne was well enough to manage without a nurse. She had almost lost her limp, but the leg was painful in the evenings, and on the doctor’s instructions Ismay had begun to exercise and massage it gently two or three times a day. It irked Anne very much that she could not yet accompany Clare and Ismay when they went for long walks, and she sat one day when they were setting off for the village store looking very disconsolate indeed.