Esmeralda Part 2

"And Mr. Peters goes like the wind, doesn't he?"

Leslie grunted.

"That Dutchman was there-scrubbed too.. showing off..."

She heard the malice in his voice.

"You don't like him." She started and realized at that moment that she did.

"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that. He's so d.a.m.ned sure of himself, though, just because he's perfected a method of correcting crushed bones--why, anyone could do that."

"Then why haven't they?" she demanded sharply, "And that's a beastly thing to say, for he's not here to defend himself."

Leslie pulled the car savagely round the next bend and had to brake hard to avoid a pony in the middle of the road. He said grudgingly: "Sorry again, I told you I was tired--perhaps I shouldn't have suggested bringing you."

She protested warmly at that.

"And if you're tired, a day at home will be just the thing," she a.s.sured him.

"Mother loves having people to visit her and Nanny will spoil you."

But Nanny did no such thing. Esmeralda, getting ready for bed in her own pretty room, looked back on the evening with mixed feelings. Her mother had been delighted to see her; she always was, for they were devoted to each other, and she had welcomed Leslie with gracious friendliness. They had gone into the low-ceilinged sitting room, with its oak beams and beautiful furniture, and had drinks and Leslie had looked about him and made just the right remarks about everything. He had been impressed, and that had pleased her; she loved her home, and his low whistle of involuntary admiration and surprise as they had approached the house had delighted her, for it was indeed beautiful--not large, but perfect of its kind and set in charming grounds of some size, and he had been just as impressed when they went inside.

It was Nanny who had come to take him to his room. She had entered the sitting room, a round, old-fashioned, cosy woman, no longer so young; submitted to Esmeralda's affectionate hugs with obvious pleasure and had then said her how do you do's very correctly, her sharp brown eyes taking in every inch of the young man as she led him away.

It had been an hour later, while they had been waiting for her mother in the drawing room, that Leslie had commented, half laughing: "Your Nanny doesn't like me, I fancy."

Esmeralda had told him that Nanny quite often didn't like people when she first met them, which was fairly true but a little disturbing, for she had wanted everyone to like him. She frowned as she got into the little fourposter bed she had slept in all her life; she wasn't quite sure about her mother either. Her parent had been just as she always was, a delightful hostess, a pretty, middle-aged woman, thoughtful for her guest, prepared to entertain and be entertained, and yet there had been something. Esmeralda rearranged her pillows and frowned heavily in the dark.

It had been a pity that Leslie had made that remark about the silver in the display cabinet-lovely old stuff, worth a fortune, he had said, and although Esmeralda had seen no change in her mother's expression, she knew quite well that that lady was displeased, and he had made it worse by asking how many servants there were and if the house cost a lot to run. Her mother had answered him lightly without telling him anything at all, and turned the conversation with practised ease to himself and his work. He had made no secret of his ambition, and Esmeralda, defending him, saw nothing wrong in that--young surgeons who wanted to get on early in life, needed ambition to keep them going--only he had rather harped upon money, and she, fortunate to have been brought up in a home where money had been plentiful, and taught from her youth to be glad of it but never to boast of its possession, didn't quite understand his preoccupation with it. Her father, when he had been alive, had pointed out to her that having money, while pleasant, was by no means necessary for happiness. Leslie seemed to think that it was. She went to sleep thinking about it and woke in the morning with the thought still uppermost in her mind.

It was a gorgeous morning again. Esmeralda dragged on her dressing gown, stuck her feet into slippers and went along to her mother's room with the intention of sharing morning tea, a little habit they had formed after her father's death. Once curled up on the foot of her mother's bed, sipping her tea, Esmeralda plunged into the subject uppermost in her mind.

"Do you like Leslie, Mother?" She leaned across and took a biscuit.

Her parent eyed her fondly.

"He's a very attractive man, darling, and I'm sure he's clever-he should go far in his profession. Is he sweet on you?"

"Mother, how old-fashioned that sounds! I don't know--would you mind if he were?" She didn't give Mrs. Jones time to reply but went on eagerly: "You see, he doesn't mind about my foot, and if I had it put right..."

"Yes, dear, we must have a little talk about that--here wasn't much opportunity last night, was there? You've decided to have something done?"

"Do you think I should? It was all rather unexpected and I don't want to be rushed into anything--only this Mr. Bamstra..."

"Such a nice man," interpolated her mother unexpectedly.

"Mother, you don't know him? How could you--you've never met." Esmeralda turned bewildered green eyes on her mother's unconcerned face.

"I met him on Thursday; he came to see me about you--to explain about. no, dear, don't interrupt, I think it was very nice of him. Not every mother likes the idea of her daughter going off to another country, even if it is for an operation by an eminent surgeon." She smiled suddenly.

"Pa.s.s your cup, love."

She poured more tea while her daughter held her impatience in check.

"I like him," said Mrs. Jones at length, 'and so did Nanny; she gave him some of her cowslip wine, and you know what that means--what's more, he drank it like a man and complimented her on it in a nice sincere way, nothing fulsome.

" She popped a lump of sugar into her mouth and crunched it.

"Nanny says he's Mr. Right."

"Mother!" exploded Esmeralda.

"He's years older--at least, I suppose he is--he must be married and have a horde of children. Besides, there's Leslie."

"Yes, dear, that's what I told Nanny just now when she brought me my tea.

What would you both like to do today? You don't need to go back to Trent's until tomorrow evening, do you?" She pa.s.sed the rest of the biscuits to her daughter.

"What does Leslie think of this operation?"

"He isn't very keen--well, he wasn't at first. He doesn't like Mr. Bamstra, although yesterday he said it might be a good idea..."

"A doctor's wife--a successful doctor's wife--would have a certain number of social duties," mused her astute parent, 'naturally, it would be very much to your--and his--advantage if you had two pretty feet. " She paused.

"Do I sound heartless and flippant, darling? You know I'm not--if I could ever have that foot of yours, I would; I've never ceased to regret..."

Esmeralda bounced across the bed and put her arms round her mother's shoulders.

"Mother darling, you've always been a brick about it. If it hadn't been for you being so sane about it, I should have been a neurotic old maid by now.

It was you who showed me how to live with it, and I do, you know--only now, with Leslie... I'd like to take a chance."

"It won't be a chance; not with that nice man, it'll be a certainty."

Esmeralda had thought vaguely that they might ride over the forest during the morning. She rode well herself--everyone did in that part of the country, although she didn't hunt; she had too much sympathy for the fox, but ambling around on her mare Daisy was something she enjoyed, and it surprised her, when she broached the subject at breakfast, to discover that Leslie didn't ride; what was more, he didn't like horses. She had noticed the previous evening that he had repelled the advances of Maudie and Bert, the elderly labradors, but she had excused him then on the grounds of him not knowing them, but now it was apparent that he didn't like animals very much. She suggested a walk instead and was instantly sorry, for he said at once in a concerned voice: "Oh, my dear, no--not with that foot of yours."

Nanny had been pa.s.sing as she spoke and she had uttered the small tut ting sound which Esmeralda remembered so well as a sign of her disapproval. She had given Nanny a green stare of anger; couldn't she see that Leslie was concerned for her comfort? She agreed readily enough after that to go in his car to Ringwood, where they wandered round the shops amongst the holiday makers, an exercise far more tiring to her crippled foot than a morning's stroll in the forest. It was fortunate that after lunch Mrs. Jones should suggest that they might go over to some friends a few miles away and swim in their pool.

"They told me to bring you over the next time you were home," she declared, 'and it's a heavenly day. I'll take my car, shall I? I know the way. "

The friends lived in a Victorian villa of great size and ugliness but with plenty of ground around it. The pool was at the back of the house and already the younger members of the family were in it or lying around in long chairs at its edge. Swimming trunks were found for Leslie, and Esmeralda went off to change.

She knew everyone there; most of them since she had been a small girl. She dived neatly off the side and swam a length or two before going to the side to call Leslie.

"It's heavenly," she cried, 'come on in! " And she swam off again, as smoothly as a seal, happily aware that however much she was hampered on dry land, in the water she was just about as good as she could be, so that his look of surprised admiration made her glow with happiness.

The glow faded a little when she got out of the water and went to sit with the rest of them; no one took any notice of the grotesque little foot stretched out on the gra.s.s, no one save Leslie, who gave it a quick, furtive glance and looked away again, and then, as though fascinated, looked again.

But his manner towards her didn't change; he was still charming and just a little possessive and full of praise for her swimming; the glow started up again, so that her lovely eyes sparkled and her cheeks pinkened, and when they went back home after tea she told her mother, quite truthfully, that she hadn't enjoyed herself so much for years.

She changed into one of the pretty dresses hanging in the fitted cupboard in her room and went along to her mother's room once more, to perch on the bed and watch that lady do her face.

"Mother, what did Mr. Bamstra say?" she asked at length.

Her mother laid down her lipstick and turned to look at her.

"He told me exactly what he was going to do; he told me that he intended to arrange for you to go to Holland so that he could operate there--in his own theatre. He said that you would be walking. G.o.d willing, with all the grace of a princess--yes, he said that--in a matter of two months, and dancing like a fairy in three. He suggested that I might like to come over and see you, and of course I said yes."

"That would be marvelous, but Mother dear, how am I to get leave to go?"

Her mother smiled.

"I think perhaps he has all that sorted out." She turned back to her mirror.

Your father would have liked him. " She added on an afterthought: " He comes from Friesland, I suppose that's why he's so very outsize. "

She gave a final pat to her hair, mousey hair like her daughter's and only lightly streaked with grey.

"And now let's go downstairs and give that young man of yours a drink."

The evening pa.s.sed pleasantly and Leslie was so charming and such an entertaining companion that Esmeralda relaxed completely; her mother must surely see now just how super he was. She went to bed presently, feeling quite content with her world. Everything was going to come right after all; she wouldn't be a cripple any more, and Leslie would on falling in love with her and they'd get married. She floated off to sleep on a dream, which, while quite impractical, was nevertheless most satisfying.

And nothing happened on Sunday to mar her satisfaction. They went to church in the morning, taking it for granted that Leslie would go with them, and when they got back Esmeralda went to the kitchen to help Nanny to get the lunch, just as she had always done, for Dora, Nanny's niece, had the day off on Sundays, and Mrs.

Pike, the daily help, never came at the weekends.

"He'll have to put up with cold," said Nanny as soon as Esmeralda put her face round the door.

"There's soup and a raised pie I made yesterday, and one of my trifles."

Nanny, over the years, had turned out to be as good a cook as she had been a nanny. She thumped the pie down on the large scrubbed table in the middle-of the kitchen and said rather crossly: "You can make a potato salad. Miss Esmeralda, if you'd be so good." She stirred her soup.

"Do you see much of this young man at the hospital?"

"Well, yes. Nanny--he's the registrar on the ward where I work, you know. I see him most days."

"And after work too, I'll be bound." Nanny's voice was sharp.

"Sometimes. Don't you like him. Nanny?" Esmeralda's voice was wistful although she didn't know it.

"Now, love, if he's the man for you and you want to marry him and he'll make you happy for the rest of your live, then I'll dote on him." She bustled to the sink and turned on the taps with a great deal of vigour.

"I hear from your mother that you're going away to have that foot of yours seen to. I always knew that there was someone in the world who could put it right for you. It'll be a treat to see you dance--I only hope I live to see the day."

Esmeralda put down the potato cutter she was busy with and went over to the sink.

"Nanny, what a thing to say! Why, you've always vowed that you'll be nanny to my babies even if you have to live to be a hundred."

Nanny thumped a saucepan down hard.

"And it'll have to be a good deal sooner than that if I have my wish, and I will. You mark my words-Nanny's always right."

And having uttered this familiar phrase, so often repeated during Esmeralda's childhood, she nodded her head, picked up her pie and told her erstwhile nursling to make haste with what she was doing.

Lunch was a gay meal and afterwards they sat in the garden, doing nothing much until Esmeralda went to get the tea, because on Sunday afternoons Nanny went into Burley to have tea with a friend and then go to church with her-and then it was time for them to drive back to London. When their goodbyes were said, Esmeralda was quick to notice that her mother didn't suggest that Leslie should come again, although she said in her sweet, rather vague way: "I expect we shall see each other again, Leslie," and added the motherly rider: "And do be careful driving, won't you. You know what the Sunday evening traffic is at this time of year."

He had carried their cases out to the car then, and Esmeralda had hugged her mother and seized the opportunity to say: "I'm very happy--I really am. I'll be down again just as soon as I know what's happening next."

"Do, darling. I had thought of doing a little shopping soon. We might manage an hour or two together while I'm in town. I'll only come up for the day, though--London's awful at this time of year."

They smiled at each other with deep affection and Esmeralda got into the car.

Leslie was already in it; he leaned across her and shut the door and waved a careless hand, but she waved until her mother was a speck on the porch before the door.

They stopped for dinner at Alton, and because the traffic had been thick on the road and there were still another fifty miles to go, Leslie was a little impatient. Esmeralda, who was hungry and had been looking forward to a leisurely meal at the Swan or Alton House, found herself eating a leathery omelette and refusing a pudding so that they could get on to the road again as soon as possible. But she was happy enough not to mind too much, and when they at length reached the hospital and Leslie dropped her off at the Nurses'

Home and kissed her rather perfunctorily, she was more than content; she hadn't been kissed so many times that she was aware of its lack of

CHAPTER THREE.

esmeralda didn't see Leslie during the whole of Monday; by the evening she was as cross as two sticks and her long-suffering friends were glad when she declared that she had a shocking headache and would go to bed early.

"Clever Boy hasn't been near her all day," explained Pat.

"He's playing the poor poppet like a trout; he's after that money others, of course-it'll come in handy when he sets up in Harley Street, won't it?"

There was a general snort of indignation.

"Can't we warn her?" asked someone.

Pat shook her head.

"Esmeralda's a darling," she said, 'still believes in fairies and being happy ever after and strong, silent heroes. She's also got a very nasty temper once it's aroused; she'd only throw everything in sight at us and do exactly what she wanted. " She paused to refill her mug from the teapot.

"But now I'll tell you something.

You know Paddy, the new radiographer? Well, he told me that that foreign surgeon--old Peters' friend, isn't he? --asked for an X-ray of her foot.

Now I wonder. "

Her friends drew a little closer. They were fond of Esmeralda and the more worldly ones had a warmth. She went up to her room, made a pot of tea, had a bath and got into bed, to fall asleep at once.