LITMIR.BIZ

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me indoors, I’m as plain as ever I was.’

      He came and leant on the balustrade beside her. ‘I’m sure your mother and father never told you that you were plain.’

      ‘Of course they didn’t.’

      ‘Then why do you think you are?’

      She looked at him in astonishment. ‘I grew up knowing it,’ she frowned. ‘At least, I guessed I would be.’ She fumbled for words. ‘I—I knew, that is, before I was told.’

      ‘And who told you?’

      Tabitha had a sudden vivid memory of standing before the mirror in the hall, doing something to her hair. It had been soon after her father had brought his second wife home, and already Tabitha had become aware that she wasn’t liked. Her stepmother had stopped and looked at her reflection over her shoulder and said, gently mocking: ‘Why do you fuss so, Tabitha, surely you know by now that there is nothing much you can do to improve matters? You’re a plain girl, my dear.’ Tabitha could still hear that light mocking voice.

      ‘Well, go on,’ prompted Mr van Beek gently, but she shook her head and then changed her mind to say uncertainly: ‘Well, she only told me something I guessed was true, only I didn’t want to admit it…!’

      ‘You should never guess,’ he stated firmly. ‘Now you’ve got an idée fixe about it, haven’t you? All you need is treatment.’

      She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Treatment? What sort of treatment?’

      ‘At some convenient time I will answer that, Tabitha. Now shall we go indoors and finish this dance?’

      Tabitha agreed, thinking that he was getting bored. The conversation had hardly been a sparkling one, and that had been her fault. The music had started some time earlier; he would only have to partner her once or twice round the drawing room. She was right, or almost so, for they had circled the floor exactly one and a half times when the band stopped playing and she muttered some excuse about speaking to an old friend, and went to sit by old Lady Tripp, who was indeed an old friend of her mother’s when she had been alive. Tabitha plunged into an awkward conversation; her companion was deaf and everything had to be said at least twice, so that the thread was quickly lost.

      In a minute or two she looked cautiously round the room and saw Mr van Beek dancing with Lilith. Even from the other end of the room, she could see that Lilith was sparkling, her lovely face alight with pleasure, which apparently Mr van Beek shared, for he was smiling down at her, and whatever it was he was saying made her laugh happily. Tabitha smiled herself, albeit with difficulty, while she listened with sympathy to Lady Tripp’s detailed description of her arthritis, at the same time wondering how and where Lilith had met Mr van Beek. Her stepmother had said that Lilith had met someone at the Johnsons’, and as far as she could see, he was the someone—and just the sort of man Lilith would marry. He was a good deal too old for her, of course, but did that really matter if he had a good position and money to give her all the luxuries she demanded of life? Lilith was undoubtedly the sort of girl a man would want for a wife, especially an older, successful man, and presumably Mr van Beek was successful. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed unlikely that he could afford to run a Bentley like his unless he had a very good practice or money of his own—Mr Raynard had said that he was at the height of his career. She was roused sharply from her thoughts by Lady Tripp, who wanted to know, in the kindest possible way, if she had a young man yet. She was attempting to answer this question when she was asked to dance, and although it was one of the very young men trailing attendance on Lilith, Tabitha welcomed him with rather more enthusiasm than she felt and followed him on to the dance floor to twist and whirl and weave with a gracefulness which Mr van Beek, who was talking to the vicar, watched with a lazy enjoyment which sadly enough she failed to observe.

      Despite the lateness of the hour when she had gone to bed, Tabitha was up early the next morning. She would go back to St Martin’s after tea—before, if she could manage to get away, but now the sun was shining and a walk would be delightful before breakfast. She dressed and went down to the kitchen and made herself some tea and stood drinking it at the open kitchen door, thinking about the dance. It had been, according to her stepmother, a great success, even the fact that Tabitha had already met Mr van Beek hadn’t spoiled Lilith’s triumph, for she had been extravagant in her praise of him and full of plans in which he largely figured.

      ‘He’s got a Bentley,’ she told Tabitha with glee. ‘I shall ask him to take me to Bournemouth or Torquay for the day.’

      Tabitha had said nothing, although she wondered if Mr van Beek was quite the man to enjoy either of these resorts during the summer months; she had an idea that his tastes might run to something quieter. In answer to Lilith’s close questioning about her acquaintance with him, she had been briskly off-hand. She had made no mention of Mr Bow, and Lilith, whose knowledge of hospital life was fragmental, imagined that as a surgeon he had merely to walk into the theatre, operate and go home again, and Tabitha saw no reason to enlighten her. She couldn’t stop Lilith getting Mr van Beek if she wanted him, but she certainly wasn’t going to help her; she was vague to the point of stupidity when Lilith demanded to know when he was likely to be free and which days of the week he could be expected to operate, and even more vague as to the length of time he would be likely to remain at the hospital.

      She finished her tea, dismissed her thoughts because they weren’t very happy ones, and prepared to enjoy her walk. She crossed the fields towards the sea as she had done the previous afternoon, and walked, in the coolness of the early morning, down to Lyme Regis and out along the Cobb. There were few people about, mostly exercising their dogs, and at the end of the Cobb, a handful of enthusiastic people getting ready to sail. Tabitha went and sat on the edge of the stone wall and watched them, carrying on a casual conversation the while. She was getting to her feet once more when Mr van Beek said from behind her: ‘Good morning—I imagined you would still be in bed.’

      Tabitha turned round slowly, not attempting to hide her pleasure at seeing him and at the same time resolutely recognizing his remark as a figure of speech and no more. She said cheerfully: ‘Hullo—not on a morning like this.’ Her eye fell on an elderly dog with a woolly coat standing beside him. ‘That’s Fred, isn’t it—unless you own his double.’

      He laughed. ‘The Johnsons’ dog, not mine. You know him, I see.’

      ‘For years. He must be twelve now—he used to come swimming with me.’

      He asked abruptly: ‘You were happy, weren’t you? Here in your lovely home, with all your friends. Has your family been here long?’

      ‘About a hundred and fifty years—the house was built during the Regency period.’

      ‘And what will happen to it now—is it to be yours, or will your stepmother…?’

      Tabitha turned away so that he wouldn’t be able to see her face. She spoke steadily. ‘My father didn’t leave—that is, he didn’t make a will. My stepmother owns it, naturally. I expect when Lilith marries she will live there.’

      He sounded surprised. ‘Lilith live there? I simply can’t imagine it. She likes London, I imagine—a flat in a modern block of skyscrapers and Harrods just around the corner.’ He spoke lightly, almost jokingly, and she answered carefully.

      ‘Lilith is pretty and very popular—she has dozens of friends. Of course she likes a carefree life, but she’ll settle down in a year or so.’

      He didn’t answer. She stooped to pat Fred. ‘Well, I must be getting back.’ She edged away, but not fast enough, for he reached out and caught her bare arm.

      ‘I’ll run you back—I’ve got the car at the end of the Cobb. There’s no hurry.’

      She said ‘No,’ quickly, and then because he gave her such a strange look, went on: ‘It’s kind of you, but I like walking. I wouldn’t like to disturb my sister and stepmother, they’re still sleeping.’

      Mr van Beek gave her a long considering look. ‘I see that you have another idée fixe,’ he observed mildly, although he didn’t

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