Deep Water by Tim Jeal Read Free Book Online Page A

strangled laugh. The woman grinned at her as if to say, ‘Fooled you, properly, didn’t I?’ Andrea followed her strange guide through a waiting room into a small office, where the prescription was quickly found. The woman glanced at it and whistled. ‘Powerful stuff. Why does he need it?’
    ‘His leg’s bad. He had polio.’
    Andrea was struck by her guide’s extraordinarily carefully made up face, which would not have looked out of place in Bond Street, but seemed strange above a highnecked wool sweater and riding breeches. She looked again at the prescription before handing it over.
    ‘So you’re staying in that funny little place outside Trevean Barton.’
    ‘I like it.’
    ‘Very poky, isn’t it?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    ‘Oh, I’m probably thinking of somewhere else.’ She thrust out a hand. ‘I’m Sally Lowther – the doctor’s wife, in case you hadn’t guessed.’
    ‘Andrea Pauling,’ replied Andrea.
    Sally’s eyebrows were dark in contrast to her natural looking blonde hair; and because her left browarched slightly higher than the right, she seemed to be appraising the world with wry amusement. Suddenly she frowned.
    ‘Is your husband a bore about his leg?’
    ‘Is that really your business?’
    ‘Of course it isn’t. I’m afraid I’m terribly prejudiced against sick people. They’re so selfish. My husband never gets a moment’s peace, even at night.’
    ‘That’s a shame.’
    ‘ He doesn’t think so. Only me. He loves them all, the sicker the better.’ Sally looked at her watch and then back at Andrea. ‘Do you play tennis, Mrs Pauling?’
    ‘Not to boast of.’
    ‘Your husband’s game’s about the same?
    ‘He doesn’t play.’
    ‘Jesus! His leg!’ Sally emitted a theatrical groan. ‘Silly me. Never mind, unattached women can be very useful as partners. You must come round next time I have people over for a game.’
    ‘I’m only here for the month.’
    Sally’s brow arched even higher. ‘A whole month in the sticks. Gosh!’ She smiled conspiratorially. ‘I’ll have to see it’s not too dull for you.’
    ‘You will?’ asked Andrea, baffled.
    Sally laughed ruefully. ‘I’d like to rephrase that. It’s we locals who have a dull time, hence all the chasing after exotic newcomers.’ She smiled bravely. ‘My husband’s always busy.’
    ‘Mine too,’ murmured Andrea, before she knew whether she wanted to exchange confidences. ‘But he’s doing worthwhile work.’
    ‘There!’ cried Sally. ‘So’s mine. I guessed we had things in common.’ She moved towards the door. ‘I’d love to natter, but I must fly. Actually, I must see a man who must fly.’ She laughed rather edgily. ‘I’ll ring you.’
    As Sally hurried away, Andrea was left standing in the hall beside an elephant’s foot containing several odd golf clubs and umbrellas.
    *
    Before arriving in Cornwall, Andrea had expected to be spending most of her time with Peter and the boys, so she had been keen to find a servant in order to have more liberty. But with Peter in bed for a week at least, and the boys choosing to be out together from dawn to dusk, she doubted whether she really needed help. What the hell. Why should she cook and shop and clean the house if there was a local girl, eager to earn money?
    Sitting in a meticulously kept cottage in the village , Andrea listened to its owner’s account of her daughter’s skills.
    ‘’Tis like this, madam, Rose can do nothin’ in the way of fancy cooking. She’s a clean girl, mind, and only needs experience to get a position that’s not temp’rary.’
    Minutes later, Andrea found herself in the street, having agreed, without having met Rose or asked for references, to become her stepping stone to better employment – if only for a month. Andrea’s next task took her on a short drive to the Polwherne River.
    Below her, green water beckoned through gaps inthe trees and a long thatched building sprawled along a shingle beach. A stone tower