Secrets to Keep (46 page)

She took a deep breath and said, ‘And think about this, Doc. You’re never going to know if you’ve met someone you can trust if you don’t at least give them the opportunity to prove it to you. And you won’t do that if you don’t allow them even to get close to you a little or take the trouble to get to know them.’

She realised Ty wasn’t listening to her as his eyes were closed and his head had slumped to one side. He was asleep. Aidy slipped off the tea chest and went over to him, kneeled down and pulled her coat further around him for warmth. She then gently ran her hand over his forehead and said softly, ‘I wish you’d take a chance on me, to see if we could be happy together. I could be happy with you, I know I could. Not the man I saw at work, though, he’s not a nice man at all, but the man I saw on Christmas Day who had forgotten to put a front on. And the man I’ve seen just now, laughing. I like that man, he’s just my type.’ She heaved a sad sigh. ‘Oh, but
I wouldn’t presume a man like you would ever look twice at a woman who comes from these parts.’

She caught sight of the candle to one side of him. It was rapidly diminishing. So was the other one. If rescue didn’t arrive soon, they’d be plunged into pitch darkness. And it was so very cold down here.

Suddenly she thought she heard a scraping noise from above. Her eyes darted upwards. The noise was getting louder. She heard a faint cry: ‘You all right down there? You both all right?’

‘Yes,’ she screamed back. ‘Doc’s badly injured, though, and needs urgent attention …’

‘Hold tight. We’ve a bit more rubble to clear away then we’ll be with you.’

‘S
o here lieth the local hero. Well, national really. Your heroics made front-page news, dear boy.’

Inwardly groaning, Ty opened his eyes to settle them on the well-made man in his early thirties who was unbuttoning a mohair top coat and making himself comfortable in the chair by the bed. He was expensively dressed in hand-tailored clothes, hand-made leather shoes on his feet, and his girth portrayed the fact that he liked his food: the sort cooked by top chefs in classy restaurants, or by his own cook in a lavish home that he drove to and from in a Rolls-Royce.

‘I was hardly the hero,’ growled Ty. ‘I read the reports too and they missed out the real heroine. She hardly got a mention.’

‘Well, dear boy, stands to reason. A working woman, people don’t care a fig about. But a prominent doctor who’s had a great tragedy in his past … Riveting reading.’

Ty groaned again. ‘They had no right to drag all that up. Damned reporters are just out for a good story, don’t care at all who they could be hurting in the process. Anyway, Cuthbert, what brings you to these lowly parts?’

Dr Cuthbert Gosforth looked shocked that Ty would even be asking. ‘Why you, dear boy. You went off without a word and we’ve all been very worried about you. When you first went off, we all thought you just wanted some time on your own, which was very understandable. It’s not every day one’s own father kills one’s wife and child and then himself, is it? But as time passed, we didn’t know whether you were alive or dead.

‘Mind you, having seen for myself where you have been burying yourself, you could hardly class
that
as living! God, what a hell-hole. Couldn’t understand a word the creatures were saying when I was making enquiries about your whereabouts. I of course made other enquiries before I set out and was told you were no longer a patient here so I assumed you’d discharged yourself home … only to find you were in fact still here, having told the staff not to reveal you were in residence because you were so fed up with the local dignitaries dropping in to pay homage.

‘I can’t imagine what state of mind you’ve been in, dear boy, to have taken on a practice where you
did. I can’t believe people actually live in such places!’ Cuthbert gave a shudder. ‘But enough is enough. You don’t belong here. Leave these yokels to be ministered to by one of their own kind who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. I mean, look at yours, Ty, old thing. When was the last time you had them manicured? And had a decent haircut?

‘There’s an opening for you in my practice. I’m offering you a partnership. Think of it, dear boy. What a team we’ll make! We’ll have the old ducks flocking to simper over our handsome new doctor. A bit of sympathy, a prescription for something that won’t do a damn’ thing because there’s nothing wrong with the hypochondriac old bags … but we’re richer by three pounds each consultation, thank you very much.

‘Griselda has found a house for you not far from the surgery. It belongs to a retired lawyer who’s off with his wife to Europe for six months, so that’ll give you plenty of time to look for something you’d like permanently. I’ve a Daimler sedan you can have the use of until you get your own jalopy. Griselda is throwing a dinner party to welcome you back. They’ll all be there. She’s invited Joanna. You remember her? All legs and breasts. She always had a twinkle in her eye for you. Was quite upset when you met and married Anthea. Well, she’s free too now. Divorced. Did quite nicely out of it, by all
accounts. Husband was the son of the Fortescue-Thompsons, and you know how much
they
are worth.’

He got up. ‘Well, got to be going, old boy. It’s quite a journey to this back-of-beyond little town and I’ve to get back as Griselda is dragging me off to the theatre tonight and we’re meeting the Williamsons for drinks first. I had a word with your doctor before I came in. They’ll be releasing you tomorrow, so we’ll be expecting you the day after. Let me know if you want the car sent to collect you. Too-da-loo then, old chap.’

For a good while after his old friend had departed, Ty lay back on his pillows, his good arm cradling his head, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Only he wasn’t seeing the ceiling at all but what his life would be like from now on as Cuthbert’s medical partner. Back to money in his pocket to finance the lifestyle he’d been brought up to live. Only working eight hours a day, if that. No house calls unless the patient was the type who demanded the attention of the senior practice partner, not a lowly assistant. Having a clerk to see to all the paperwork, a receptionist to greet the patients who came in. A daily woman to supply tea and coffee brought into him on trays holding Royal Worcester china and solid silver pots. Taking leisurely lunches in expensive establishments; having the means to afford his own cook and
housekeeper to cater to his every need. Invitations to parties, the theatre, weekends in the country … too many for him to accept.

Compared to the lifestyle he had been living these past eighteen months, it sounded like a slice of heaven.

F
ive days later Aidy slumped down wearily in the armchair and eased her shoes off her swollen feet. Her hands were red-raw from constantly being plunged into boiling hot then freezing cold water. She hated her job. Not that she felt that washing laundry was beneath her, but it hardly stimulated her brain. She gratefully accepted the cup of tea her grandmother handed her. ‘Oh, thanks, Gran. Kids all right?’

‘They’re in their eye ’oles at the moment, love. Quite the local celebrities, having their names in the papers. Elsie is fair hanging on our Marion’s skirt, so desperate to be known as the best friend of the sister and brother whose gallant rescue by the local doctor was splashed over every front page in the country.’ Bertha pulled a face and said, tight lipped, ‘Shame the other local hero didn’t get much of a mention by the reporters, in’t it?’

Aidy said, ‘I’m just glad the kids came out of it unscathed. I dread to think what the case would have
been had the three of them not happened to have landed up in the same place when that bit of floor gave way beneath them, just before the main wall came down.’ Her face filled with sadness. ‘They could have ended up like that other little boy they pulled out from under the rubble. I hope he didn’t suffer. His poor mother, though …’

Ruth came in then. ‘Oh, hello, Aidy dear.’ She looked sympathetically at her friend. ‘I won’t ask how your day went – you look exhausted. Oh, I so hope something better comes along for you soon.

‘Anyway, I was out when you came in as I have been to visit Mr Crabbet at his carpenter’s yard. I’m delighted to tell you that he has very kindly agreed to fix the shelving for us in the parlour and will hold off on payment until we have some income coming in from sales. Wasn’t that nice of him? Mind you, I did agree to give his infirm wife a bed bath twice a week, to save him paying a woman to come in. Fair exchange, though, I feel. But isn’t it exciting that in a couple of weeks we could be open for business? I hope the new potions you’re making to stock the shop are building up nicely, Bertha dear. I can give you a hand after dinner is cleared away with any you are making tonight.’

She then fell silent for a moment, looking at Aidy in concern before she said, ‘I may as well tell you as you’ll find out anyway, but I heard some gossip about
Doctor Strathmore. A group of women were chattering about it when I was passing on my way back from the carpenter’s, and they dragged me in on it as they thought I might have some inside information. Anyway it seems Doctor Strathmore, according to them, is leaving or has already left. I was told he’d had a visitor three days ago. A very well-to-do man, by all accounts. The sort of car he drove has never been seen in these parts before. He was knocking on the front door of the doctor’s house. Didn’t seem very pleased he wasn’t getting any response.

‘Mabel Vickers happened to be passing and he asked her if she knew of the doctor’s whereabouts. She asked
him
why he wanted to know and who he was. Well, she wasn’t going to tell any Tom, Dick or Harry where the doctor was, in case he wouldn’t be happy about it. And this very posh man said, “I’ve come to take him back where he belongs, my good woman, and as soon as is physically possible.” Mabel also said that the doctor was discharged from hospital two days ago but hadn’t been seen since. There was another doctor living in the house and seeing patients so local opinion was that Doctor Strathmore had gone for good and a new man had taken over.’

It was probably for the best, thought Aidy. At least she didn’t have to suffer the pain of living close to him, knowing that she could happen across him at any time as they both went about their daily business. It
would be all the harder then to bury her feelings for him and get on with her life.

There was a knock at the door. ‘I’ll get it,’ said Ruth. She went off and came back with an envelope in her hand. ‘A young boy, one of Mrs Burton’s lads, I think, gave this to me. For Mrs Nelson, he said. He skipped off before I could ask him who sent him.’

Aidy frowned at Ruth, bemused. ‘A letter? Who would be writing to me?’

‘Why don’t yer open it, love, and find out?’ urged an excited Bertha. Receiving a letter was a special occasion to them, and especially one that was hand delivered. ‘And can you hurry up? I need to get cracking on the dinner.’

Aidy looked at the envelope. It was good-quality paper. Not the cheap sort bought locally. Even more puzzled as to who could be writing to her like this, she slit the envelope open and pulled out the letter. There was the address of her former place of work on the letterhead.

Dear Mrs Nelson,

I have an opening for a receptionist and you have come highly recommended to me. Should you be interested in the post, would you please present yourself for interview at 5.30 this evening? Let yourself in at the front door. I will be waiting for you in the surgery.

The signature was just a squiggle, indecipherable.

‘Well,’ said an impatient Bertha, ‘who’s it from then?’

‘The new doctor. He’s a vacancy for a receptionist and I’ve been recommended to him.’ At least Doc had thought enough of her to recommend her to his replacement as a suitable candidate for the job. That gave Aidy some comfort. ‘It’s for five-thirty tonight.’ She flashed a look at the clock. ‘But it’s five-fifteen! I’ll never make it. I can’t go looking like this, in my laundry clothes.’

‘Would you like this job?’ Ruth asked her.

It would be hard working for another doctor when she had come to have such a high regard for his predecessor, but as long as the new man paid the same, money wouldn’t be quite so much of a worry to them. ‘Of course,’ cried Aidy.

‘Well, hurry up and change your clothes, swill your face, put a brush through your hair and give your cheeks a good pinch for some colour. Then be off,’ Ruth ordered her.

It seemed strange to Aidy to be entering the doctor’s house by the front door instead of the waiting-room entry. She wondered why the new doctor hadn’t asked her to arrive by the usual way and wait there until he was ready to see her.

Aidy was excited at the thought of landing this
job, and not just so she could say goodbye to the laundry. She had actually enjoyed her work as a receptionist and was hoping that this new doctor might see fit to allow her to go out on nursing duties occasionally. She wondered what the new man was like: young, old, fat, thin … One thing she knew: he couldn’t be any worse to cope with than the last one had been. She was so consumed with all these thoughts she forgot her manners and walked straight into the surgery without announcing herself first.

‘Still haven’t got around to knocking before you barge into a room, I see, Mrs Nelson.’

She stopped short and exclaimed, ‘Oh!’ It was Ty, battered and bruised, his left arm in a sling.