Under Gemini Read Free

if you explained the situation.… Tell him that perhaps it would be better not to put it off too long.”
    As he feared, Isobel’s eyes became instantly bright with tears. “You do think she’s going to die.” Already she was fumbling up her sleeve for a handkerchief.
    â€œIsobel, I didn’t say that. But you know how Tuppy is about Antony. He’s more of a son than a grandchild. You can see how much it means to her.”
    â€œYes. Yes, I do see.” Bravely Isobel blew her nose and stowed away her handkerchief. Searching for some diversion, her eyes alighted on the sherry decanter. “Have a drink.”
    He laughed, easing the tension. “No, I won’t, thank you. I’m going to see Mrs. Cooper. She’s got palpitations again, and they’ll worsen if she thinks I’ve been drinking.”
    Isobel smiled, too, despite herself. Mrs. Cooper had always been something of a family joke. Together they went out of the room and across the hall. Isobel opened the front door onto the chill of the damp, mist-shrouded morning. The doctor’s car, parked at the foot of the steps, was wet with rain.
    He said, “And promise to ring me if you’re the least bit worried.”
    â€œI will. But with Nurse here, I know I won’t worry so much.”
    It was Hugh who had insisted that they get a nurse. Otherwise, he said, Tuppy must go into a hospital. On being faced with the daunting prospect of a resident nurse, Isobel’s mind had shot off at panicky tangents. Tuppy must be very ill; and where would they find a nurse? And would Mrs. Watty raise objections? And would there be umbrage taken and bad feeling in the kitchen?
    But Hugh had seen to it all. Mrs. Watty and Nurse had made friends, and Isobel was able to sleep at nights. He was, in truth, a tower of strength. Seeing him off Isobel asked herself, perhaps for the hundredth time, what they would all do without him. She watched him get into his car and drive away, down the short drive between the sodden rhododendrons, past the lodge where the Wattys lived, and through the white gates which were never closed. She waited until he had gone. The tide was at the flood, and she could hear the gray waves breaking against the rocks below the garden.
    She shivered, and returned indoors to phone Antony.
    The telephone in the old-fashioned house stood in the hall. Isobel sat on the chest, and looked up the number of Antony’s office in Edinburgh. She could never remember telephone numbers and had to look up even the most day-to-day people, like the grocer, and the man at the railway station. With one eye on the book, she dialed carefully and sat waiting for someone to reply. Her thoughts, anxious, darted in all directions: the dahlias would be dead tomorrow; she must pick some more; would Antony have already gone out for lunch? She mustn’t be selfish about Tuppy. There was a time for everybody to die. If she could no longer work in her precious garden nor take Sukey for little walks, then she would not want to live. But what an unbearable void she would leave in all their lives! Despite herself, Isobel prayed wildly. Don’t let her die. Don’t let us lose her just yet. Oh, God, be merciful unto us  …
    â€œMcKinnon, Carstairs, and Robb. Can I help you?”
    She was jerked back to reality by the bright young voice. Feeling for her handkerchief again, she wiped her eyes and composed herself. “Oh, I am sorry, I wondered if it would be possible to speak to Mr. Armstrong. Mr. Antony Armstrong.”
    â€œWho’s speaking, please?”
    â€œMiss Armstrong. His aunt.”
    â€œJust a moment.”
    There came a couple of clicks, a pause, and then, wonderfully, Antony’s voice. “Aunt Isobel.”
    â€œOh, Antony…”
    He was immediately alert. “Is anything wrong?”
    â€œNo. No, not wrong.” She mustn’t give a false impression. She must pull herself