Sister of the Bride (5 page)

‘
It’s Rodney
:
he’s spilled a pot of soup over himself and I’m afraid he’s terribly burned,’ I babbled. In my agitation I had completely forgotten that this stranger would have no idea whom I was talking about.

He regarded me frowningly and I saw his strong fingers beat an impatient tattoo on the wheel. ‘And what do you expect me to do about it?’ he asked abruptly.

‘It’s Rodney Etherton,’ I explained. ‘He’s my nephew. You see, my sister Averil has gone on a cruise to the West Indies and she’s left me in charge, and somehow or other Rodney burned himself and—’

‘Get in,’ he broke in abrupt
l
y.

I suppose if I had had, my wits about me I would have attached significance to the change in his attitude, but at the tune I was in no state to observe such subtleties. He leaned over and opened the door. I slumped into the seat beside him, silenced by the unexpected change in his manner. I glanced inquiringly at him, but his dark, rather forbidding features had regained something of their former irritation. Without questioning me further he turned the car into the lane. We were stopping outside the cottage before it dawned on me to
wonder how he could have known exactly where to go.

As I tumbled out of the car there was no sound of Rodney’s blood-curdling screams: an ominous calm seemed to hang over the cottage and I felt a stab of fear. Was Rodney, then, more badly injured than I had suspected and was he even now lying unconscious on the kitchen floor? I felt my breath come in little gasps as I hurried after the tall figure striding purposefully ahead.

As he pushed the door open Rodney’s screams began again in redoubled volume.

‘The patient seems to have revived,’ the stranger said dryly.

Without answering I dashed ahead and found Rodney where I had left him and on the point of drawing breath to give another yell.

His mouth fell open when he saw whom I had returned with and the scream I had been bracing myself for failed to emerge. ‘I didn’t tease the cows, Vance,’ he said defensively. ‘Mrs. Clarke’s always blaming me, even when I don’t go near the stupid old things.’

So this was the formidable Vance Ashmore! For some reason or other the knowledge caused me embarrassment. If I had known beforehand who he was would I have stopped him so peremptorily? I wondered.

He examined Rodney’s arm closely, then said firmly, ‘There doesn’t seem to me to be very much wrong.’ He glanced at the spilled contents of the pot, then turned to me and said coldly, ‘If you’d kept your wits about you and not let him bamboozle you you’d have realized that all he has suffered is a mild scorching.’

At this cold appraisal Rodney began to sniff self-pityingly.

What Vance Ashmore said was true, I immediately realized: obviously Rodney had simply been trying to make himself the centre of notice: it explained too the facts that had puzzled me about the accident. But there was something in this man’s personality that aroused antagonism in me so that I couldn’t resist opposing him. .

‘All the same, I think I’d like him to see Dr. Pritchard,’ I said stubbornly.

He glanced at me sardonically. ‘Indeed, so you doubt my diagnosis
!’

I evaded his eyes, aware that I was being unreasonable. ‘I think it might be wiser to take no chances. After all, I’m in charge here!’ I was trying to let him know quite definitely that the decision didn’t rest with him.

‘Very well,’ he said coolly, ‘if you wish it, although, according to himself, Dr. Pritchard is hopelessly overworked and is unlikely to welcome having his time taken up by a spoiled and completely healthy child.’

‘If you don’t want to take us, I’ll send for a taxi,’ I said stiffly.

‘My dear girl, I haven’t the slightest objection to driving you: I’m simply pointing out the hazards, as it were.’

‘But Dr. Pritchard told me I could call on him at any time,
’
I said with what I hoped was impressive dignity.

‘Oh, did he?’ The black eyebrows arched sardonically. ‘So you’ve already made the acquaintance of our lovelorn medico!’

‘We met on the train, if it’s any of your business and, as far as I know, he isn’t lovelorn,’ I replied stiffly. I had the suspicion that he was deliberately trying to
rile me and I made up my mind not to give him the satisfaction of showing anger.

He shrugged. ‘Which goes to show how little you know of Bob Pritchard. However, I’m quite willing to drive you to his house. After all, as I’ve already been taken on a fool’s errand I may as well finish the job. But I’ve no intention of taking the child in once we’re there. As you seem so determined you can do that part of the business yourself .
’

We drove off in silence: Rodney in the back seat unusually subdued and perhaps realizing for the first time that his histrionics might have consequences he had not anticipated. Tight-lipped, I gazed stiffly ahead and when we reached Bob’s house I got out of the car quickly. I was on the point of turning away and marching up the path when Vance put his head out of the car window and said, ‘I’ll wait and drive you back to the cottage.’

‘Don’t bother,’ I answered stiffly. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘Are
you always so pig-headed?’ He
sounded amused. ‘May I assure you that I pass your lane on the way to Ashmore House so you won’t be under the slightest obligation to me—in case that’s what’s worrying you.’

I nodded grudgingly and taking Rodney’s hand moved away.

At close quarters Bob Pritchard’s house was even more depressing: wilted-looking geraniums grew in moss-covered pots in the glass porch and the paint was scruffed and dingy. I pressed the bell, wishing uncomfortably that it was possible for me to make a dignified retreat. I glanced back at the car, to find myself being surveyed by Vance with a discouragingly sardonic smile. I waited, wondering if Bob would assume that
I had made Rodney’s accident an excuse for another meeting.

However, when the door opened I was met by an elderly woman in a white linen coat who eyed me bleakly. ‘You’re too early,’ she announced. ‘Doctor’s at his tea.’

‘On the contrary, Doctor has just finished his tea,’ Bob announced cheerfully, his good-natured features appearing over her shoulder. ‘Tell Miss Carson to come right in.’

Grudgingly she stood aside and I advanced into the hall.

Bob looked questioningly at me, then down at Rodney. ‘From the looks of him, I expect he’s the patient.’

I nodded. ‘He spilled a pot of soup over himself, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve made a fuss over nothing.’

He grinned. ‘Better to be sure than sorry. I’ll have a look at the invalid and tell you the worst.’

I followed him into the consulting room and felt a growing embarrassment as Bob examined the arm, then glanced up at me in puzzlement. ‘But there’s nothing whatever the matter with the child,’ he announced decisively. ‘What on earth gave you the idea that there was something seriously wrong?’

‘He was screaming,’ I replied lamely. Even as I said it, I realized that no doubt Bob Pritchard knew as well as I did that Rodney’s screams meant nothing.

‘Well, I can assure you he had no cause to scream,’ Bob told me.

I stood up, only too glad to escape from the ridiculous position Rodney and my own stubbornness had placed me
in.

Rodney, seeing that the limelight was being withdrawn from him, assumed the mulish expression I had grown to dread. ‘But it hurt like anything,’ he whined.

‘Oh, do stop, Rodney,’ I said, exasperated. ‘Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble already?’ I pulled
him
towards the door, muttering excuses to the still puzzled Bob.

Then Rodney, who was dragging his feet reluctantly, to my horror announced, clearly, as a parting shot, ‘Anyway, Mummy’s not going to marry you: she’s going to marry Vance: I heard her say so.’

There was a moment’s appalled silence while Bob and I gazed at each other. I saw his face grow stiff and white, then, without a word, he turned and strode from the room.

Sick with mortification, I almost ran back to the car, grateful that it was there and that I would quickly be borne away from the-scene. Vance glanced at me swiftly as I bundled into the back seat with Rodney, then in silence started the car and drove swiftly to the cottage.

Before leaving he leaned out of the car window and said casually, ‘By the way, I wonder if Averil mentioned that my mother would like to meet you? Won’t you come over tomorrow? You can take the short cut behind the cottage and through the woods.’

So Averil had been right! Mrs. Ashmore was determined to look me over. I felt a resurgence of resentment: Vance’s mother was in for a disappointment, I told myself
:
I had no intention of being vetted by the local
grande dame.
‘Thank you,’ I said coolly, ‘but I’m just settling in, and anyway, I’m supposed to be taking care of Rodney.’

‘But won’t the child be at school during the day?’

I had forgotten about that and was forced to search my mind for a plausible excuse.

‘However,’ he said dryly, before I could think of anything, ‘don’t bother racking your brains for a polite refusal. It’s fairly obvious that, for once, Mother’s not going to have her curiosity satisfied.’

His eyebrows arched in the by now familiar sardonic manner. ‘You know, in lots of ways you’re quite unlike your sister.’

‘I’ve known that for quite some time,’ I said crossly. ‘For one thing, Avail’s beautiful and I’m not.’

He nodded with unflattering acquiescence. ‘At the risk of appearing ungallant, I agree: no, you’re not beautiful—at least, not in the way Averil is. But I’m not speaking of mere looks. You’re different in all sorts of ways.’

I looked at him coldly. Did he really think I gave two hoots for his opinion of me? Yet when he drove off without elaboration I felt vaguely annoyed as I followed Rodney who, his role of interesting invalid forgotten, was dancing along the path towards the house door.

Later that night as I lay under the slanting beams of my bedroom and listened to the tiny creaks and groans of the old house, I found myself speculating concerning the relationship between my sister and Vance Ashmore. It would not be surprising if he had fallen for Averil, for I knew that few men could resist her. For her, too, Vance would hold the attraction of wealth and magnetic good looks: it was the sort of combination that Averil would find irresistible. I was prepared to accept that no matter how romantic she found a shipboard friendship it would end with the cruise. For, in spite of her soft, almost kittenish good looks, she had always had a hard and practical side to her nature that had become intensified since Clive’s death. No doubt when a suitable time had elapsed since his death she would marry Vance Ashmore. Averil was much too level-headed to throw away her chances of becoming the future Mrs. Ashmore by taking any shipboard Romeo too seriously.

My thoughts were disturbed by the sound of footsteps creaking on the old boards outside my door. I sat up abruptly, my heart thudding. Rodney and I were alone in the cottage: our nearest neighbours were the Ashmores who were separated from us by the gardens and woods. I remembered that I had not closed the sitting-room window. Suppose someone had crept in and was now standing outside my door!

I gave a little scream of fear as I saw the knob slowly turn and the door being pushed open. Then the small figure of Rodney stood in the threshhold. He looked young and
childish
in his pyjamas and his habitual sulky expression was missing.

But he had given me such a fright that I said crossly, ‘Really, Rodney, what do you mean by prowling around at this time of night?’

He twiddled the door knob uncertainly, then said in a subdued voice, ‘I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, but I have a question to ask.’

‘Well, what is it?’ I asked resignedly.

‘I was wondering if I’d better stay away from school tomorrow: I mean, because of the accident?’

If I had been more observant no doubt I’d have noticed the anxiety behind his request and have realized that this was not merely a small boy’s excuse to get off school. As it was, I said irritably, ‘You’ll do no such thing! Go back to bed and don’t make a nuisance of yourself. Anyway, you weren’t really hurt and it was very naughty of you to make me go on a wild goose chase to Dr. Pritchard.’

‘Well, I was hurt, so there! And Dr. Pritchard doesn’t like me because he knows I don’t want him as my new daddy.’

I gazed at him curiously and couldn’t resist asking, ‘What on earth makes you think he might be your new daddy?’

Into his eyes crept the sligh
tl
y cunning look that made him appear older and wiser than his years. ‘Because,’ he announced triu
m
phan
tl
y, ‘I heard
him
asking Mummy to marry him and Mummy said no, she wouldn’t.’ He wrinkled his forehead in an effort to recall the exact words. ‘She said she’d no intention of settling into the dreary round of a G.P.’s wife.’

It was so typical of the sort of remark that Averil would make that there was no doubting the truth of it, yet the crudeness of her rejection was almost incredible.

Rodney seemed delighted with the effect of his words. ‘I bet you didn’t think I’d remember, did you?’

‘You certainly have a good memory,’ I admitted, and realized that his talents weren’t altogether an unmixed blessing. Very little could be done or said that wouldn’t be observed and recorded in his
small
inquisitive head. ‘Do go back to bed, Rodney. You’re most certainly going to school tomorrow, so you can make your mind up for that.’

He turned away resignedly, then said in a
small
plaintive voice, ‘Will you please tuck me up, Aunt Esther? Mummy sometimes promises me she will, but most times she forgets.’