New Doctor at Northmoor (7 page)

‘
It
’
s like a fire inside me, consuming me,
’
Gwenny said unexpectedly, but her voice was cracked, not like her own at all.
‘
Can he put the fire out?
’

‘
I mind me I was thinking at the door a while ago that one could do anything he set his heart on, given time. But don
’
t you go crossing him, now. He
’
s not one to take sauce from a little wench. He
’
s all man, that one! I
’
ve not seen the like of him for many a year. Wisht I was young again, lovey, that I do. I
’
d get him for myself. And he
’
d be worth getting!
’
But Gwenny had drifted off again and didn
’
t hear much of that.

She opened her eyes again to a different scene. For a moment blind panic filled her. What, she asked herself, was that peculiar smell? And why was everything white, for goodness
’
sake?

She closed her eyes again, and heard the squeak of rubber soles on polished floor, and it came to her then that she was in hospital. She wasn
’
t a doctor
’
s daughter for nothing. Just by lying there with her eyes closed, she could hear sounds that her father talked of in acute irritation almost every day of his life. He was always popping into hospital to see one or other of his patients. Hospital was, he would have everyone know, one of those places designed to thwart the best efforts of any honest G.P. Gwenny had always secretly cherished the thought that her father would have given the world to be back in hospital again, working with a degree of safety and order, far removed from the domestic scene which continually intruded.

Only Gwenny, in the whole family, guessed how much
Dr.
Kinglake had enjoyed his hospital days when young. Only Gwenny guessed how much
Mrs.
Kinglake worried the doctor, with her eternal panics and jubilations over her committees and the little local affairs he deplored so much.

And now Gwenny herself was here. She opened her eyes again, hoping to see a familiar face, but there was no one. The nurse looked friendly, sitting there by the bedside, but Gwenny could only hear the sounds of the ward: she wasn
’
t in it. She was in a side ward, and the nurse was wearing a mask and a gown.

‘
What am I being barrier-nursed for?
’
she asked at once.

The girl
’
s face, what there was of it to be seen above the mask, ran through the gamut of emotions. Her brows shot up in surprise, then her eyes crinkled up in sheer laughter.
‘
Oh, yes, they said you were a doctor
’
s daughter so we won
’
t be able to fool you,
’
she said.
‘
It
’
s only a precaution till we can find out what your particular bug is. Not to worry.
’

She got up. Gwenny said,
‘
What are you going to call Sister for
?’

‘
Because I
’
ve been told to, the minute you woke up
,’
the nurse said primly, and took off her mask and gown and hung it up on a peg.

Then came a procession of people, two at a time, and each donned mask and gown for entry into the little room. Sister, the R.M.O. (the retiring one, Gwenny supposed, remembering that Mark Bayfield would be coming here in his shoes), and she decided she liked Mark Bayfield best. One or two consultants looked in and professed interest, then someone said that Gwenny
’
s father would be coming.

That settled her. If Daddy came, then she would be all right. She wondered if Laurence would come, too, and decided he wouldn
’
t. He
’
d hate being here since he hadn
’
t managed to snaffle that position! And then she snapped her eyes open as she thought, of course! R.M.O.—no wonder Laurence had been so mad keen to get it! Who wouldn
’
t be
?
And
nicely near home!

Considering Laurence was not a person who loved his home all that much, Gwenny had never been quite clear about why he wanted to work near home, but he had, and now he couldn
’
t, and suddenly she didn
’
t want her father to come here because he would be angry, too.

One consolation occurred to her. At least her father wouldn
’
t run into Mark Bayfield, since he wasn
’
t taking up his new job until next week, and would presumably not come here until then.

When her father did come, her mother was with him. Gwenny wished her father had come alone, because there were things she would have liked to explain, such as how she had started to be ill, and how it was that she had never seemed to have the chance to tell him. At least he would have kept quiet and listened, but with her mother there that wouldn
’
t be possible.

But before they came, Sister came in and smiled at her.
‘
Well, aren
’
t you a lucky girl?
’
she said.

Gwenny thought for a moment that Sister Hubbard was being sarcastic. What was lucky in being in this state
?

Sister Hubbard, who was red-faced and round and almost always had her sleeves rolled up and her cuffs off, was naturally, and quite irreverently, called by her nurses behind her back, Old Mother Hubbard. It was a natural reflex action. Gwenny, who didn
’
t yet know that, found herself mentally repeating the old nursery rhyme to herself. She couldn
’
t think for long on any subject, but silly things like nursery rhymes popped into her head, and that one most of all.

‘
Why am I lucky?
’
she managed.

‘
Because you are going to be our new R.M.O.
’
s first patient,
’
Sister explained.
‘
In fact, I venture to think he
’
ll have a rather special interest in you, young woman. Your parents
will
be pleased.
’

‘
Why am I going to be that, Sister?
’
Gwenny whispered.

‘
Because he thinks you have a disease that he
’
s particularly interested in. It
’
s too early for the lab. tests to be positive, but I hear that our new R.M.O. is never far wrong in his diagnosis. Oh, yes, you
’
re a lucky girl all right. And now here come your parents.
’

But the first sight of their faces told Gwenny what she already knew. It seemed an unkind back-kick of fate that the one person who should be so much interested in her state should be
that man,
of all people, and by the look of them, her parents endorsed this view.

CHAPTER IV

Gwenny settled down to her treatment with the thought that at least her father didn
’
t seem as angry as she had feared.

It was her mother who worried her.

Mark Bayfield sat by her bedside the next day and prompted her to tell him a little about it. He looked strange and unfamiliar in his cap, mask and gown, but as he kindly explained,
‘
Until we know for sure, it
’
s the safest thing. You don
’
t really mind, do you?
’

She shook her head.

‘
And you do feel better than yesterday, don
’
t you?
’

‘
Yes. All cool.
’

‘
That
’
s the injection I gave you. It would help me if you could tell me a little of what
’
s been going on, to get you in this state.
’

Gwenny sighed, and tried to think.
‘
Oh, well, I get tired, and peculiar pains in my joints.
’

‘
Yet you went for long walks and cycle rides?
’

‘
That was between the bad times. I
’
m not always feeling ghastly. More so lately, though.
’

‘
I see. And are you not happy at home
?’

Gwenny looked alarmed, so he said gently,
‘
It wouldn
’
t be disloyal to your family if you were to tell me of something concerning them which worried you. It would help me get you well, and I
’
m sure your family would want that.
’

She looked so frustrated at that.
‘
Now what
’
s upsetting you
?’
he asked, half smiling.
‘
I expected you to say that someone in your family quarrelled with you
—
it happens, and it can make a person feel more ill if they have this sort of bug.
’

She closed her eyes.
‘
You can
’
t possibly have a family of your own, or you wouldn
’
t talk like that. You just don
’
t know what it
’
s like.
’

‘
How
do you know?
’
he countered, and when she snapped open her eyes she found he was smiling in a rather amused fashion. She couldn
’
t see his mouth, only his eyes, all crinkled up and filled with amusement, and she couldn
’
t stop looking at them. For a man, they were the most expressive eyes she had ever seen.

‘
Oh, well, the fact is, we all love each other, but it
’
s a sort of angry loving that makes us hurt each other, I suppose, and sometimes I get a sort of cold hard lump here,
’
she said, tapping her chest,
‘
and I can
’
t think how anyone in a family all living for each other can feel so unhappy.
’

He sat nodding.
‘
What else?
’
he asked her.

‘
I think my father feels wretched because he doesn
’
t make much money,
’
she offered.

‘
What
’
s money?
’
Mark Bayfield asked ruefully.

Quick as a flash, she snapped back,
‘
Something to buy a panacea with, to chase away all the things that make us unhappy.
’

He looked rather taken aback at that. After giving it some thought, he offered:
‘
I know quite a lot of rich people who haven
’
t managed to buy happiness with their money.
’

‘
I didn
’
t say that,
’
she said.
‘
You twisted what I said. I meant that people who haven
’
t got it could do things with it if they had; that rich people wouldn
’
t know about because they
’
d always had it. Oh, now you
’
re laughing at me.
’

‘
It sounded rather funny,
’
he admitted.
‘
Tell me some more about it next time I come.
’

‘
When will that be
?’
she asked anxiously.

‘
When would you like it to be
?’
he asked curiously.

She flushed and closed her eyes, remembering belatedly that this was the man her family disliked so much, the man who had apparently blocked every avenue of escape and endeavour for them. The man who had hurt and embarrassed her sister Priscilla so that Priscilla hated him; the man who had prevented Laurence from getting this job he had wanted so badly, indeed this man had taken the job himself, and surely he couldn
’
t need it? This man had everything, including the wealth which Gwenny felt in her heart could free them from the tangle of their problems. Even her mother, who amiably grumbled about people but rarely felt so strongly about them, seemed to hate the hospital
’
s new R.M.O. And her kind, tired, overworked father
...
Gwenny felt her throat ache with unshed tears as she thought of him. Daddy had been kind, a long time ago, before he had become too overworked to remember to choose his words or to conceal his impatience.

‘
It isn
’
t for me to say,
Dr.
Bayfield,
’
she said at last, in a frosty little voice.
‘
I
’
m just a patient, aren
’
t
I?’

He left her with a very wry smile. He thought he could guess at what made this change of front. There was nothing more he could do today. It was a matter of tests, tests and more tests—and endless patience.

Later that day old
Mrs.
Yeedon came to see Gwenny. She looked strange and unfamiliar in the protective clothing, but if Gwenny could have seen her before the mask and gown had gone on, she would have found
the old woman looked even more peculiar, for
Mrs.
Yeedon had donned her Sunday best, a stiff outfit of rusty black which she re-trimmed season by season, and at the moment the old black hat was resplendent with artificial fruit, and there were new coloured buttons on the tight black coat.

‘
I never expected you! How lovely
!’
Gwenny cried.

Mark Bayfield had specially said
Mrs.
Yeedon could come. The old woman knew how to keep infection away, and she would be such a tonic for Gwenny, he thought.

Mrs.
Yeedon said,
‘
Dearie me, lovey, how comfortable you do look, in this nice little room. I never thought they let you have a little room to yourself in hospital. That
’
s what comes of having a doctor for a father, I
’
m thinking.
’

‘
No, it
’
s because I might be infectious,
’
Gwenny told her.
‘
Aren
’
t you afraid of catching it from me?
’

‘
Not me, my lamb. Now, is there aught you would want me to bring you, before we get down to a nice old chat?
’

‘
Not a thing, but I
’
ve got lots I want to ask you. What about Clem?
’

‘
That nincompoop
!’
the old woman said wrathfully.
‘
I gave him a piece of my mind, and that
’
s a fact. He
should have
—
Oh, well, what
’
s the use? What
’
s
done is done. What happened about your parents when they found out?
’

‘
It wasn
’
t very nice,
’
Gwenny admitted, in that new spent little voice that tore at the old woman
’
s heart.
‘
Mother was so angry, because she didn
’
t know I
’
d been being ill, and that Mark Bayfield had been the one to discover it.
’

‘
Didn
’
t you tell her what I told you—that it was me who called him in?
’

‘
Well, you know my mother—I didn
’
t get much chance to say anything. Daddy was furious, too. A thing called professional pride, if you know what that means. He felt he ought to have been treating me all this time, and called in a specialist of his own choice. He asked me how I thought he felt, not having known about it. Well,
’
said Gwenny, her face crumpling,
‘
how can you get through to people? He doesn
’
t know what I
’
m thinking and I don
’
t know what he
’
s thinking, and there
’
s a gap that
’
s growing wider and wider, and nothing I can do will make it close up. I have tried to tell him, lots of times, but things always seem to happen to stop him from being able to hear me.
’

The old woman had her own ideas about the Kinglake family, but she wasn
’
t going to voice them. It would only hurt Gwenny. She looked so alarmingly frail, with those blue smudges under her eyes. The old woman tried to persuade herself that fair people started out with a frailish look sometimes, but she wasn
’
t being successful. Gwenny was, she felt, slipping away from them.

‘
They all love you so much, lovey, and affection for someone in the family takes a funny direction sometimes, and a body ends up hurting the other person more than helping them. Don
’
t you fret—they
’
re most like all kicking themselves for not having looked after you better while you were in their care.
’

Gwenny shook her head.
‘
It
’
s so much more than that, you see. It
’
s not knowing what I
’
ve got, and Mark Bayfield seems to think he does. Daddy hated that. And there
’
s the thing about my sister Priscilla. She
’
s so angry about him, yet she wants to know all about him and I
’
m wondering if she and Mark Bayfield were in love and then quarrelled. Do you think that
’
s likely?
’

Mrs.
Yeedon hoped devotedly that such was not the case. She personally couldn
’
t stand the sight of Gwenny
’
s sister Priscilla, who was what the old woman called, in her mind, a
‘
hard piece
.’

‘
What comes to my mind, lovey, is that when she was at her hospital and he was there, he likely rapped her over the knuckles for speaking out of turn, and her ladyship didn
’
t care for it. And now he
’
s got the job your brother wanted, her ladyship has discovered some sisterly love for young Laurence which will let her hate
Dr.
Bayfield a mite more.
’

Gwenny giggled, briefly, at the thought of Priscilla discovering sisterly love for Laurence. Those two had scrapped with depressing regularity ever since Gwenny could remember.

‘
I wish Mummy could be more jolly and less wrought up over those committees of hers,
’
Gwenny sighed.
‘
It
’
s all rather uncomfortable.
’

‘
Yes, well, she
’
s at a funny age,
’
the old woman said sagely.
‘
It
’
ll all work out, my lamb, I
’
m sure. Now I
’
ve got other things to tell you. I have to tell you while they
’
re in my mind because I shan
’
t be coming much to see you, seeing as I don
’
t go out overmuch.
’

‘
Who
’
s looking after your cottage
?’
Gwenny asked, at once alarmed. She couldn
’
t remember the cottage having been left empty before, now she came to think of it.

‘
That Clem said he
’
d stay there. Leastways, he nodded when I told him he
’
d better look after it for me. I
’
d best not stay away too long. He
’
s such a fool. I left him poking about in that engine of his—any one
’
d think there was something wrong with it, the way he
’
s always wiping it here and poking at it there.
’