Always And Forever by Betty Neels Page A

her coat, tidied her hair and made sure that she had everything in her handbag, Dolores invited the doctor to lookround him. ‘We’re showing our Christmas stock,’ she told him. ‘It’s always a busy time, but we close for four days over the holiday. Amabel will be able to go to her aunt’s house. She’s away at present, Amabel told me, but I’m sure she’ll be back by then.’ She gave him a sly glance. ‘I dare say you’ll manage to get a few days off?’
    â€˜Yes, I dare say.’
    â€˜Well, if you see Miriam give her my love, won’t you? Are you staying here long?’
    â€˜I’m going back tonight. But I intend to return before Christmas.’
    Amabel came then, with Cyril on his lead. She looked so happy that just for a moment Dolores had a quite unusual pang of remorse. But it was only a pang, and the moment they had gone she picked up the phone.
    â€˜Miriam— I promised to ring you. Your Oliver has just left the shop with Amabel. He’s driving her to the sea and spending the rest of the day with her. What is more, he told me that he intends returning to York before Christmas. You had better find yourself another man, darling!’
    She listened to Miriam raging for a few minutes. ‘I shouldn’t waste your breath getting into a temper. If you want him as badly as all that then you must think of something. When you have, let me know if I can help.’
    Miriam thought of something at once. When Dolores heard it she said, ‘Oh, no, I can’t do that.’ For all her mischief-making she wasn’t deliberately unkind. ‘The girl works very well, and I can’t just sack her at a moment’s notice.’
    â€˜Of course you can; she’s well able to find another job—plenty of work around before Christmas. When he comes tell Oliver she’s found a better job and you don’t’know where it is. Tell him you’ll let him know if you hear anything of her; he won’t be able to stay away from his work for more than a couple of days at a time. The girl won’t come to any harm, and out of sight is out of mind…’
    Miriam, most unusually for her burst into tears, and Dolores gave in; after all, she and Miriam were very old friends…
    Â 
    The doctor and his little party had to walk to where he had parked the car, and on the way he marshalled them into a small pub in a quiet street to lunch upon a sustaining soup, hot crusty bread and a pot of coffee—for, as he explained, they couldn’t walk on empty stomachs. That done, he drove out of the city, north through the Yorkshire Moors, until he reached Staithes, a fishing village between two headlands.
    He parked the car, tucked Amabel’s hand under his arm and marched her off into the teeth of a strong wind, the dogs trotting happily on either side of them. They didn’t talk; the wind made that difficult and really there was no need. They were quite satisfied with each other’s company without the need of words.
    The sea was rough, grey under a grey sky, and once away from the village there was no one about. Presently they turned round, and back in the village explored its streets. The houses were a mixture of cottages and handsome Georgian houses, churches and shops. They lingered at the antiques shops and the doctor bought a pretty little plate Amabel admired before they walked on beside the Beck and finally turned back to have tea at the Cod and Lobster pub.
    It was a splendid tea; Amabel, her cheeks pink, her hairall over the place and glowing with the exercise, ate the hot buttered parkin, the toast and home-made jam and the fruit cake with a splendid appetite.
    She was happy—the shop, her miserable little room, her loneliness and lack of friends didn’t matter. Here she was, deeply content, with someone who had said that he was her friend.
    They didn’t talk about themselves or their lives; there were