Busman's Holiday, page 3
Aunt Joey, Nicky and I retreated smartly to the lawn. ‘Did you know he’s a medic, Aunty?’ asked Nicky.
‘Of course, dear. We’ve kept in touch since I took over his adored Bessie.’ She gazed at the lane with eyes that looked backward. ‘Having to leave her all but broke the poor child’s heart, but he was always a sensible little boy and realised she was far too wild to live in London. In any event, he was going to his first boarding school, and as his mother enjoyed a very sociable life, Bessie was bound to pine on her own.
‘His father said unless Bessie could be found a good home, she must be put down, but with her fierce reputation, a good home wasn’t easy to find. We had two dogs then and though, as you know, Grandpa loved animals, he was very doubtful when Mr. Loftus first called to ask him to have Bessie. Then I met David in the lane, the day his father said Bessie must go that evening.’ She breathed in. ‘I can still see that grubby, white faced small boy hugging his puppy with his heart in his eyes. When I said I’d persuade Grandpa to change his mind and look after Bessie for him, David thrust her at me. “No, she’s yours. She sort of likes to belong to a person.” Then he walked off very slowly with his tousled head and shoulders straight. He didn’t let me see he was crying.’ She shook her head at her thoughts. ‘He wrote me his first letter that evening. Four pages of things Bessie liked eating, doing ‒ and being an honest child ‒ chewing. He wrote “She is a chewing sort of dog and she did chew Mummy’s new hat so you better not let her near your new hat. I hope you like her. I do”.’
I stared at the ground. Nicky sniffed. ‘Did you write back?’
‘Naturally, though I never expected to hear from him again. But every Christmas and sometimes on my birthday since, I’ve had a long ‒’ she broke off. ‘All well, Davie?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ He came quickly towards us looking so unlike his former self and so exactly as every worried doctor I had ever seen, that I wondered when my eyes had been playing tricks. Then? Now? ‘There’s so much I should explain, including making a couple of calls on your ’phone, but there just isn’t time. There’s a child in Holly Mill village who must be got to Ulvercastle Infirmary just as fast as we can get her there. The Infirmary have agreed it is far better to drive her straight in than wait for them to send out an ambulance and so does the GP concerned. He’s agreeable to my taking her in my car ‒ she was once one of my patients. I must leave now ‒’ he glanced at me ‘to collect Janice and her parents ‒ they’ve no car and my ‒ my great friend Sue Frampton is staying to look after their smaller children. So may I borrow your niece, Frances? I need her help.’
‘Dear boy, of course! Being a nurse Fran will be only too glad ‒’ but the ’phone was ringing again. ‘I’ll see if that’s for you!’
Aunt Joey shot off, but Nicky had already sprinted ahead.
I glanced nervously down at myself. ‘Have I time to get tidy?’
‘None!’ He grabbed my arm and pushed me out of the gate. ‘I didn’t want to frighten your aunt, but Jan was a blue baby. Her heart’s been repaired,’ he unlocked the gleaming white car by the hedge as he spoke, ‘but she has an electric heart-timer controlling the beat ‒ which now has a fault.’ He held open the driver’s door, as Nicky yelled the ’phone call was for her. ‘Good. You drive.’
I had slid over to the passenger seat. ‘M ‒ me? Your new car?’
His eyes blazed with impatience. ‘Did you get to bed last night?’ I nodded, dumbly. ‘I didn’t. Since yesterday morning, the only sleep I’ve had is roughly thirty minutes in the ’plane up. Sue drove me from Ulvercastle, her father met us in this village, I came on here at a crawl. I intended crawling back to Holly Mill.’ He got in the back. ‘Get driving and I’ll go on.’
Very nervously, I obeyed.
He leant on the back of the front passenger seat. ‘Between Holly Mill and Ulvercastle we’ll take the motorway. We’ll hit Ulvercastle at the end of the evening rush hour. Knowing I’m light-headed through lack of sleep, I am not driving a sick child and anxious parents whilst there’s another available driver. Despite your lamentable carelessness just now, your aunt says you’re a good driver. I trust her judgment, so I’m trusting you, though I don’t expect to enjoy the experience.’ We had reached the end of the lane. The road ran right to Aunt Joey’s village half a mile off and left to Holly Mill. ‘Know your way?’
‘Yes,’ I turned left feeling very small. ‘I ‒ I didn’t know you were in medicine. Phy ‒ physician?’
‘Yep.’ I could feel him watching me, but not as on the roof. His hostility was as tangible as the wheel in my hands. ‘Paediatrics.’
‘Janice was the patient in Arumchester Hospital?’
‘Nope. Cardiac Unit, St. Catherine’s, London. I’m a Catherine’s man. So’s the GP at Holly Mill. That’s why he sent her to us. Mrs. Riding, Jan’s mum, helps Sue’s mum in the house. Knowing Sue’s a nurse, she rushed over for her.’
‘I see. Was ‒ er ‒ Sue at Catherine’s?’
‘No. Your hospital.’
‘St. Martha’s?’ I was very surprised.
‘Yes, but you wouldn’t remember her. She’d left before you started. Sister Children at Arumchester now ‒ what are you doing turning right? The main road runs straight on!’
‘Yes, but this’ll cut out nearly a mile.’
‘I hope you know what you’re doing!’ His tone was ominous. ‘On today’s showing, I wouldn’t bet on it!’
I couldn’t hold that against him though it made me squirm. ‘It’ll truly save a few minutes.’
‘As Jan’s lips’ll grow bluer and her pulse slower with every passing minute, the more you can save the better. She’s only seven, a sweet infant, and one of the best patients I’ve ever had. And after eight years in infants’ wards, I’ve had plenty of best patients ‒ so you be right! May Heaven have mercy on you if you’re not, as I’ll have none!’
I had a brief glimpse at his face as I swung the car carefully round a sharp left bend. If I had not believed one word he said before that telephone call from this Sue Frampton, I believed him now. I might be no good at judging men as men, but I knew where I was with doctors as doctors. We might be in a country lane with me in shirt and jeans and him in snazzy casuals, but I could recognise a doctor speaking from his heart about a patient wherever I was. I waited a few moments. ‘That’s Holly Mill’s church spire on the far right.’
He breathed out. ‘Good. First house left in the row opposite the church. Drop me, turn her round, and keep her running.’
As we slowed to a stop, a fair, slim, pretty girl with a very sweet, sensible face, ran out. ‘Dave, darling, never have I been so glad to see you! Her pulse isn’t dropping as fast as I feared but ‒’ they disappeared into the little house, but not before I registered as if I were a camera, the deeply personal glance that passed between them.
I didn’t dwell on it. I had to turn the car. A little group of housewives in floral aprons watched sympathetically as I drew up again. Then the house door opened. A youngish couple, their faces pale and drawn under country tans, came out and stood aside. David appeared, a small dark-haired child in his arms. Her face was too pale and her lips were too blue, but her breathing was not as laboured as I had been dreading and most wonderful of all, she was the only one present who was not frightened. She was resting her head comfortably against his dark blue cord shoulder and looking up at him with the absolute trust of a child who knew she was safe. David said something that made her parents try to smile and Janice grin. His eyes danced as he looked down at her, sharing the joke. No one seeing him now would ever guess he had had only thirty minutes sleep since yesterday morning.
There was no time for remembering my first erroneous impression, the impression I must have given him, tomorrow’s long drive, least of all why any man with a girlfriend with Sue Frampton’s sweet as well as pretty face, should have bothered to kiss me. But as they all got into the car, I just had time to think: I’ll remember him, like this.
‘Right, driver! Next stop, as scheduled!’
It only took half an hour. It was the longest half-hour of my life. When we drew up at the great Emergency Department of the Infirmary, Janice was a very ill child. But a sister, staff nurse and two porters with a stretcher-trolley fitted with portable oxygen, swept up to our car and within two minutes the little procession had disappeared inside. I backed into the car park and rested my head on my arms on the steering wheel.
I had no idea how long it was before a hand touched my shoulder. ‘A cup of tea with the compliments of Sister Emergencies. She thinks you can use one and so do I.’
My hand shook as I took the cup. ‘Thanks, David. How’s Janice?’
Now he could afford to relax he looked ready to drop, though his smile was brilliant. ‘Kids! They turn one white! A few puffs of oxygen, a couple of adjustments to her pacemaker by the technician standing by ‒ and she’s demanding ice cream and chip butties! Her mother’s staying in for the night, they’ll both be home in the morning. Mr. Riding wants to stay an hour or two, and then one of his mates is running him home. There’s no more I can do here, this being way out of my patch, so when you’ve had that tea, let’s be away.’
The tea was nectar. When he returned my cup he was some while and on returning said he had had another very reassuring look at Janice, and been ringing Sue Frampton’s parents. ‘They’d gone out earlier, that’s why Sue couldn’t use her father’s car. I explained she’s staying with the three little Ridings till their father gets in. Only a short stroll from her parents house. I’ll call for her later.’
‘You’re staying with the Framptons?’
‘Yep.’ He flopped into the seat beside me. ‘Your aunt told me she hasn’t yet had a chance to meet them as they’ve only just moved up here. Mr. Frampton was one of my father’s old school-friends as well as business associate. For years their London house has been my second home. I’m going to miss them. Very nice people.’
‘Mr. Frampton’s retired up here? He’s from the north?’
‘No.’ For some reason, he hesitated. ‘They’ve personal connections with Holly Mill. Sue’s particularly fond of this area ‒ she’s spent the odd holiday up here. She flew up with me today, as she’s just starting a three-week holiday ‒ and am I going to miss her in Arumchester. Know it?’
‘No. I ‒ we’ve ‒ all been wondering, will Aunt Joey be happy there? What’s it like?’ He took his time. ‘A small oasis of medieval England. If the twentieth century hasn’t left it untouched, it has touched it with rare gentleness. It’s very much ‒ my scene. I think it’ll be Miss Allendale’s. It is Sue’s as well. She much prefers working in a smaller hospital ‒ sorry ‒’ he was yawning again. ‘Ready, when you are.’
I switched on the engine and felt it was now safe to risk asking, ‘Crisis in the children’s ward, last night?’
‘More a routine emergency, than a crisis. We had a baby whose blood had to be changed and happened to be in a very rare blood group. Took all night to rustle up the few donors in his group scattered round the south and east of Arumchester. The police did their routine excellent job rushing them to us in fast cars and by seven this morning, all was well. Obviously, it wasn’t then worth going to bed. I did a very early round and clocked off, as scheduled. Must be getting old.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘All-night stints don’t generally flatten me out. Mind you,’ he added in his former affected drawl, ‘I still think my best antidote would be a little peaceful lotus-eating.’
I let that go with a weak smile. He was so tired, yet he had managed to radiate a quiet confidence as well as kindness, that had given such obvious comfort to Janice’s parents on our drive. The effort that cost him now showed in his face. He had known far better than myself, how much and how terrifyingly swiftly, something could have gone wrong.
He was asleep before the next traffic lights stopped us and did not wake till I drew up outside Aunt Joey’s gate, forgetting the house was empty. It was in darkness as Aunt Joey, Nicky and Psmith had gone up the lane to the neighbours putting us up for the night.
He sat up, switched on the interior light. ‘Forgotten the old order changeth?’ He smiled slightly, but very kindly. ‘Don’t look so forlorn. You drove very well and Jan’s fine to prove it! What if you do slip up, occasionally? Who expects to win ’em all?’
I had to turn away. That last expression was one of Bart’s favourites. ‘I’m delighted about Jan,’ was all I said, abruptly. It was all I wanted to say to this strangely confusing stranger. I wanted to get right away from him ‒ and the thought of tomorrow suddenly gripped my throat.
It was said tomorrow never came.
This one, did.
Chapter Two
A parchment veil of mist lingered over the high moors when we took the old Roman road to the south next morning. The sheep grazing behind the endless, low roughstone walls were almost invisible; the grounded lapwing made smudgy black and white shadows on the soaking turf; and the thick air transformed to a plaintive whisper a curlew’s objection to our driving too close to her nesting chicks.
Then the sun rolled back the mist. The road gleamed whitely as it swept on, arrow-straight, up and down, over the wide, empty, rolling moors. The old roughstone walls glistened with a million cobwebs, and every grass verge and crevice was brilliant with blue harebells, red bell heather, and feathery golden rod, all laced with dew diamonds.
David sighed with pleasure. ‘I’m feeling very selfish, Miss Allendale, but thank you so much for letting me see all this at leisure.’ Aunt Joey was driving, with Nicky, our only non-driver, beside her as navigator.
David, Psmith and I were in the back. This seating arrangement and the driving rota for the three hundred plus miles to Arumchester that lay ahead, having been ordained by David before we started, with an amiable, but unmistakeably authoritative air, that would have had me gasping with disbelief when I first saw him from the spare-room roof, yesterday.
Nicky was impressed. ‘Fran and Nicky, Inc. Limited, have been taken over by David Loftus Enterprises!’ she told me, privately. ‘Suits me! I’m all for Women’s Lib until I’m in a car with a puncture. Then I bleat like a Victorian maiden for the nearest kind, strong, man!’
Aunt Joey said nothing, but I sensed her relief. Having for so long had to attend to every detail for herself, she knew she could leave today in David’s apparently languid, but very capable and firm, hands.
We had just finished an early breakfast with our overnight hosts when he arrived with his car. Last night I had told Aunt Joey and Nicky most, if not all, that had happened whilst I was with him yesterday. My account had included his girlfriend Sue Frampton and long friendship with her parents. The uninhibited Nicky voiced my own surprise at seeing him alone. ‘Where’s your chum Sue Frampton? I thought you’d bring her to meet Aunt Joey as we could’ve dropped her off at Holly Mill when we go through the village on our way.’
With an equal lack of embarrassment he explained Sue was very sorry to miss Aunt Joey, but hoped to meet her in Arumchester when she finished her three-weeks’ holiday. ‘She’s stayed to see to the three small Ridings whilst their father goes to work. Mrs. Riding and Jan’ll be home by mid-morning.’ He glanced at me. ‘I rang Ulvercastle Infirmary before I came away. Jan had a splendid night and is fighting fit. As the post-strain reaction is now hitting poor Mrs. Riding, she’s a trifle weary, but Miles Diggory is calling in to see both around lunch-time.’
I was delighted over Janice, but didn’t recognise that last name. ‘Miles Diggory?’
Aunt Joey answered, ‘Dr. Diggory’s the newish GP at Holly Mill. A nice young man and very good family doctor.’
‘I’m glad, but not surprised to hear he’s doing well,’ said David. ‘We were at Catherine’s together. He knows his medicine. Didn’t I tell you yesterday, Frances, Miles Diggory originally sent Jan to our Cardiac Unit at Catherine’s?’
‘Yes, but you didn’t say his name. He’s young?’
‘A few months younger than myself.’
I smiled faintly at myself. ‘I thought he’d be older. Somehow, I’ve always thought of GPs as middle-aged. Like consultants.’
‘Some are, some aren’t.’ He smiled at Aunt Joey. ‘Miss Allendale, I don’t wish to rush you, but ‒’
He couldn’t finish, as the owner of the village garage arrived at that point. ‘My breakdown van’s taken your car along, Miss, but if you could spare a few minutes to come back with me, I can give you an estimate on the spot.’
My responsibility for the damage I had done my aunt’s car was weighing heavily. ‘Nicky, I think I should go too,’ I whispered.
David overheard. ‘No. Having you teetering with anxiety won’t help Miss Allendale and there’s a lot to be done here. Has Psmith had a run?’
Nicky answered. ‘Only a short one. Think he needs another? Shall I take him?’
‘Would you? He’ll be sitting for hours and if you wouldn’t mind, it’ll save the drivers’ energy for driving.’ Having dispatched Nicky and Psmith, David asked our hosts to excuse him and myself. ‘Come and help me pack the car, Frances.’ He strode over to it and opened the boot. ‘I’ll stack, but I’ll need to know what’ll be wanted en route and what can stay in here with the greenhouse.’ He surveyed Aunt Joey’s precious pot plants with a smile. ‘Would one of these be a lotus?’
‘No.’ I bit my lip, impatiently. Why start today recalling the part of yesterday we must both want to forget?
‘Pity. I can see I’ll have to grow my own,’ he drawled. ‘These cases wanted? No? Right! I’ll get them well back. Now, let’s have the plants.’
I made myself watch him covertly as I handed each in turn. It seemed the only way to rid myself of this nagging impression that he was another Bart. I tried to dispel this. I really did try. I reminded myself the world was full of tall, loose-limbed Englishmen in their age group and concentrated on their differing points. David’s hair was shades darker, his voice tones deeper, his face much less regularly good-looking, his eyes blue, not hazel. Then he glanced round and our eyes met. The expression at the back of his dark blue eyes so vividly recalled my first meetings with Bart, that I had to dive for another plant to provide an alibi for my sudden colour.
