Healing in the Hills Page 9
‘That’s settled then,’ old Mrs. Kynoch put in, and smiled at Ismay.
‘I suppose you wouldn’t...’ Ismay began.
‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Mrs. Kynoch interrupted firmly. ‘Thank you, my dear, but my theatre days are over. I used to go regularly at one time, but I find I’d sooner sit and watch television now in the evenings. Thank you just the same. It was a nice thought, though,’ and she reached out and gave Ismay’s hand a pat.
Ismay smiled. Lewis’s mother really was a most loveable old lady, and Ismay looked down at her plate, thinking how lucky she had been in some ways to have got this job just at a time when she needed to get away from home. If only there was not the problem of her uncontrollable yen for Lewis lurking in the background. And not always completely in the background, she thought to herself rather ruefully. His personality was so magnetic that when he was in the house she was constantly aware of his presence even if they were not actually sharing the same room. She could hide from herself no longer, that she was becoming more and more interested in someone who was out of reach. And for her own peace of mind the sooner Anne was pronounced completely fit and Ismay could fade out of the picture the better.
The following morning, after having been prompted by an anxious Clare and Anne, she got on the telephone to the theatre in Keswick and managed to get three seats in the front stalls for the Thursday evening of the following week. That same afternoon as they were on a walk to Friar’s Crag a car drew up beside them and Roy Young leaned out. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure,’ was his greeting. ‘How about me giving you a lift to wherever you’re going?’
They all went and looked in through the car window, three laughing faces where the wind had whipped the colour into their cheeks.
‘Thanks very much,’ Ismay said, ‘but we’re out walking to exercise Anne’s knee. Just an easy stroll, I can assure you.’
Roy Young grinned. ‘And it’s very obvious the therapy is doing you all a world of good. As your doctor I approve. I shan’t have to write up prescriptions for you three, that’s for sure. Not even Anne looks as if she’s had a day’s illness in her life.’
‘No, I’m fine now,’ Anne replied, ‘and I’m to be allowed to go out to the theatre next week. Mummy says it won’t matter now if I have a late night, and Ismay’s booked theatre tickets for us to go on the Thursday evening.’
‘Is that so?’ Roy’s voice was eager. ‘Any chance of a fellow coming along to make a foursome?’
Although Ismay did not join in the ensuing conversation, by the time he drove away it was quite obvious that he had persuaded Anne and Clare and that he had every intention of accompanying them to the theatre the following week. She was torn between conflicting emotions. Much as she liked Roy Young she did not want him to get any romantic notions as far as she was concerned. It was the same with Ivor Thomas, for that matter. She enjoyed going out with both of them, she thought them both charming young men, but that was where it ended. Neither stirred her pulses or made her heart beat one fraction faster. No, it had to be the one man who was unavailable who made her heart race. God forbid that Lewis Kynoch ever got an inkling of the effect he had upon her!
The following week-end they were all busy opening up the cottage which stood about a quarter of a mile away and which was owned by Lewis’s brother Stephen. He and his wife and the children would be coming up from London in about a fortnight’s time, and Mrs. Kynoch and Mrs. Fletcher were determined that everything should be ready for them, the beds well aired and the entire cottage spick and span in time for their arrival.
Ismay and the girls joined in and thoroughly enjoyed the two days which were spent down there. Even Lewis turned up on the Sunday morning to help move the heavy refrigerator and electric cooker so Mrs. Fletcher could clean behind them. And in the afternoon they all returned after lunch was over and Lewis mowed the small lawn in front of the house while Mrs. Kynoch, Clare and Ismay removed some of the more persistent weeds growing in the herbaceous borders.
‘I don’t know precisely when Stephen and Brena will be arriving,’ Mrs. Kynoch said when they finally locked up and set off back to Little Grange, ‘but at any rate the cottage is ready for them now. All I’ve got to do is order groceries.’
On Thursday the theatre party turned out more enjoyable than Ismay had anticipated. At the last moment she had regretted not speaking out when Roy Young suggested he come with them, but without being downright rude, she could hardly have refused. He came in his own car to pick up Anne, Clare and Ismay, gave them supper before the show, and then drove them back afterwards to the accompaniment of excited chatter from the back seat.
As soon as they reached Little Grange Anne and Clare, clearly very tired, went straight up to prepare for bed, but as Ismay thanked Roy for his company and turned to follow than, he caught her by the arm and pulled her outside again.
Still holding her by one hand, Roy looked down into her face clearly illuminated by the light from the lamp which hung over the door. ‘I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself so much,’ he said. ‘Thanks for letting me come,’ and bending down, he kissed her firmly on the lips and giving her a quick squeeze he turned towards the car, saying as he did so, ‘I’ll give you a ring as soon as I know when I’ve got some more free time.’
Ismay lingered to watch him drive away, and she was just turning again to enter the house when a figure stepped out of the bushes and walked towards her. For a moment she stopped, her hand on the handle of the door, startled into immobility, and then she recognized Lewis’s tall figure.
What a fright you gave me!’ she said, and there was a tremble in her voice.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.’ The tones were matter-of-fact. ‘I was just coming in when I saw you and Roy giving one another a tender good night and I rather fancied he’d think my arrival most inopportune, so I waited until he’d driven away to make my presence known.’
Ismay could feel herself beginning to blush. He would have to turn up at just that precise moment, she thought, and began to turn away again when his voice stopped her. ‘Don’t you think you’re being rather foolish?’ he asked.
By this time he was standing about two feet away from her, very straight and erect, his feet apart, his hands on hips as he watched her. Ismay turned away from the house and faced him fully. ‘A mistake? I don’t think I’m quite with you.’
‘Well, first it’s that fellow from Grasmere and now Roy Young. When I was up in London I heard all about your unfortunate tragedy, and I’m beginning to think this sudden interest in the male sex must be reaction—a case of delayed shock, if you like.’
Ismay could feel the old familiar anger beginning to well up inside her. The way he had stated her case made her feel like a specimen on a slab, laid out ready for his dissection, her anatomy carefully numbered.
‘I don’t really see what it’s got to do with you,’ she replied levelly, ‘and I’m extremely sorry that somebody in London has gossiped about me. I suppose you called in at St. Ninian’s.’
‘Oh, inevitably. I’m an old St. Ninian’s man, as you probably know,’ Lewis answered her. ‘And everybody, as soon as they heard you were up here staying with us, was most eager to give me your life history. It explained lots of things which had been puzzling me for some time. But what I don’t understand is why you seem to be plunging into affairs with two men at once so precipitately. You have, as you must know, a reputation for being very standoffish. You’re in rather a vulnerable state at the moment, you know.’
‘And what do you mean by that remark?’ Ismay asked icily.
‘I mean that you’re fair game in your shocked state of mind for anyone who cares to make a pass at you. That you’re an easy target for any man, even one you don’t really like.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ Ismay said, and was preparing to turn away when Lewis said quickly, ‘Well, if I’ve failed to make myself clear in words of one syllable, perhaps I’d better show you what I mean,’ a
nd before Ismay could pull away or escape through the door into the house he had taken her into his arms and was kissing her very thoroughly indeed.
Taken unawares, Ismay made no effort at first to withdraw herself from his embrace. Indeed, even had she tried it would have been extremely difficult to do so, for Lewis was strong and he had his arms firmly round her. By the time his lips had been on hers for ten seconds, however, her senses were beginning to swim, and as she closed her eyes and nestled against him like wax in his embrace the thought occurred to her that any resistance now was quite beyond her capabilities.
When Lewis eventually did release her he did so slowly and very gently indeed and his voice was soft as he said, ‘Now, Ismay, do you see what I mean? You’re in great danger, mostly from yourself. Don’t make an impulsive mistake, please,’ but Ismay was hardly listening to his words. All she could think of was that she had given herself away completely, and wrenching herself out of his arms, she gave him one sharp slap across the face with her open hand. In a second she had the side door open and was running down the long corridor towards the hallway.
She had almost reached the hall when she heard the sound of light footsteps running down the staircase. Her last wish was to meet any of the other members of the household, and thinking it was either Clare or Anne come back to look for her, Ismay opened the nearest door, which happened to be a big walk-in broom cupboard, and stepping into the darkness pulled the door to behind her, leaving it just ajar.
But it was not Clare or Anne who had come running down the stairs. As Lewis’s footsteps became audible in the corridor outside her hiding place Ismay heard Felicity give her high discordant laugh and say, ‘My goodness, those fingermarks on your face are a giveaway, my love! Perhaps you ought to wait until your lady-friend’s a little more willing before you try your luck!’
In the darkness Ismay could feel nausea begin to rise within her. As if it was not bad enough to have Lewis thinking he could hand out casual kisses, his wife not only knew his weakness but was teasing him as if his philandering was no new occurrence. Ismay leaned her forearm against the wall of the cupboard and putting her head against it felt two burning tears sear their way down her cheeks. There was nothing for it, on some pretext or other she must pack and leave immediately.
CHAPTER FIVE
Two hours later Ismay had done most of her packing and thought up what she hoped was a reasonable excuse for leaving so precipitately. She undressed and climbed into bed, but if she hoped to woo sleep she was doomed to disappointment. All night she was tormented by reminders of the scene which had taken place outside the side door a few hours previously, and at six-thirty she climbed wearily out of bed and went quietly into the bathroom. She had just finished taking a bath and put on clean bra and pants when there was a timid knock on the door and Clare’s anxious face appeared round it.
‘I hoped it was you, Ismay. Please come quickly, it’s Anne. She’s fallen getting out of bed!’ she gasped in her monotonous little voice, and only waiting to thrust her feet into bedroom slippers and hug her dressing gown around her, Ismay ran down the corridor and into the girls’ bedroom.
Anne was lying in an awkward-looking position between the twin beds, her forehead beaded with perspiration and gasping with pain. With Clare’s help Ismay got Anne on to her bed and as soon as she was covered lost no time in going down the corridor and knocking on Lewis’s door.
It was a minute or two before he appeared and Ismay had raised her hand to knock again when suddenly the door was flung open and he stood there in his pyjamas, his hair rumpled, a hand raised to stifle a yawn.
‘It’s Anne,’ Ismay said without any preliminaries. ‘Will you come at once, please? She had a fall and I’m afraid her knee may be injured again.’
Without waiting even to put on a dressing gown Lewis brushed past her and barefooted paced down the corridor and into the girls’ room. By the time Ismay reached the bedroom he was on his knees beside Anne’s bed, examining the girl. Anne was crying softly and Lewis brushed the damp hair off her forehead, saying as he did so, ‘We’ll soon have you well again. I’m going to get on the telephone to Doc Young. I’ll give you something for the pain and Ismay will stay and sponge your face and hands. You’ll soon be feeling better,’ and he was away before Ismay could ask him any questions.
But he had made it clear what he wished her to do, and fetching a bowl of water, she proceeded to sponge Anne’s face. Meanwhile Clare had crept downstairs, made some tea and carried it up. There was, Ismay noted, a capsule beside the teapot. ‘Feel up to having a cup?’ Ismay asked as Clare put the tray down. And at Anne’s nod she poured some out and raising the girl gently gave her the sedative and a few sips of the hot sweet tea.
‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,’ Anne whispered as she lay back again.
Ismay smoothed her forehead with a gentle hand. ‘You can’t help a tumble, now stop worrying,’ but as she stood up and tidied the bed she knew that this meant she could not leave Little Grange today, and perhaps not for some while. If Anne’s knee had been injured in the fall there was no question of her packing up and going back to Cambridge.
Leaving Clare to watch her sister, Ismay hurried back to her bedroom to put on a cotton shirt and jeans, quickly dragging a comb through her hair and tying it back. She was only absent from Anne’s side for about five minutes, but when she went into the room she saw that Anne was again in great pain, and drops of perspiration were running down her temples. When Lewis returned from telephoning Ismay motioned him out into the corridor. ‘The sedative doesn’t seem to be helping. Anne’s not complaining, but she’s having a lot of pain—I can see.’
Lewis looked thoughtful. ‘I could give her an injection, but it might make her dopey,’ he replied after a moment’s thought. ‘I want her to be quite capable of telling Doc Young exactly how she feels when he gets here. He’s promised to be up in twenty minutes. Do you think you can keep Anne fairly comfortable meanwhile? I want to dress and shave, but send Clare for me if you’re in any difficulty.’
Without wasting any more words Ismay nodded and turned to re-enter the bedroom. She drew a chair to the bedside and as she did so Anne opened her eyes and whispered, ‘I’m so glad you’ve come back, Ismay. It makes me feel safer when you or Lewis are here. Don’t leave me again, please.’
Ismay stroked her hand and whispered that she would not stir out of sight again. She was a bit misty-eyed as she gazed down at the girl in the bed. She had grown very fond of both Clare and Anne in the short time she had known them and would have hated to make the hurried departure she had planned for this morning. How strangely fate worked out! Had Anne not had this fall Ismay knew she would by now have been looking up the times for the first convenient train back home. Now there was no question of that. Lewis or no Lewis, she would have to stay and somehow repel his advances and discipline her own rebellious heart.
She was still sitting beside the bed holding Anne’s hand when Lewis ushered old Dr. Young into the room. He was perfectly turned out as usual, not a grey hair out of place, his tie immaculately tied, and his suit smartly pressed as if he were just about to start on his rounds instead of having dressed hurriedly and rushed out of his house without breakfast. Ismay started to get to her feet, but he motioned her to sit down again, saying to Anne as he did so, ‘Bless my soul, what’s all this now? Fancy getting an old fellow like me out of bed at such an ungodly hour! What have you been up to, young lady?’
Anne made a vain attempt to smile at his whimsical tone, but it was obvious to everyone watching that she was making a supreme effort. Dr. Young picked up her wrist and consulted a large gold watch which he produced from his waistcoat pocket and began taking her pulse, talking all the while.
When he had finished he slipped the watch back into his pocket, and getting down on his knees, signalled to Ismay to draw the covers back. He was very gentle, but even so Anne gave a gasp as his fingers touched her leg.
‘All right, my dear, I’m not goi
ng to hurt you any more,’ he said a minute later, and getting to his feet the doctor drew Lewis over to the window. They stood there for a moment or two talking quietly to one another, and as soon as Ismay had made sure that Anne was covered up and warm again, she went over to join them.
The two men looked at her. It was Lewis who spoke first. ‘Dr. Young doesn’t think we need call anybody else in at the moment.’
‘That’s so,’ Dr. Young echoed him. ‘She may have a very sore knee for a day or two, but for the moment let’s see what rest will do. Keep her in bed and I’ll write a prescription for a mild painkiller. Oh, and by the way, Lewis,’ he turned, ‘make sure she gets a good night’s rest. It won’t harm the lass to have a sleeping pill tonight. The more she sleeps the better. And nothing too heavy to eat for twenty-four hours. Nurse. Mostly liquids, fruit juices, tea, some soup if she fancies it. Keep her diet light. I’ll get that lad of mine to come in again this evening, but I’ll be back myself tomorrow morning.’
At Ismay’s nod of understanding the doctor turned and hurried out of the room, presumably to get home and have some breakfast before he had to start morning surgery. Lewis followed him and Ismay turned her attention to her patient again. Clare, who for once had had her hearing aid securely in place so she missed no word of what was going on, was still sitting in dressing gown and pyjamas on her own bed, and Ismay whispered to her to go into the bathroom and get dressed.
As Ismay went over and sat down again beside Anne’s bed, her eyes fluttered open. ‘I’m just going next door to fetch my pillows,’ Ismay began. ‘I think you’ll feel better with the weight of the blankets off your leg and if I put a pillow either side it will raise the bedding until we can get a proper cradle.’