Always And Forever by Betty Neels

reassure him as to her future; it had done nothing of the sort. Her mother might be fond of her but obviously this overbearing man she had married would discourage her from keeping close ties with Amabel—he had made no attempt to disguise his dislike of her.
    Driving himself back home, the doctor reflected that Amabel had been wise to leave. It seemed a bit drastic to go as far away as Yorkshire, but if she had family there they would have arranged her journey. He reminded himself that he had no need to concern himself about her; she had obviously dealt with her own future in a sensible manner. After all, she had seemed a sensible girl…
    Bates greeted him with the news that Mrs Potter-Stokes had telephoned. ‘Enquiring if you would take her to an art exhibition tomorrow evening which she had already mentioned.’
    And why not? reflected Dr Fforde. He no longer needed to worry about Amabel. The art exhibition turned out to be very avant-garde, and Dr Fforde, escorting Miriam Potter-Stokes, listening to her rather vapid remarks, trying to make sense of the childish daubs acclaimed as genius, allowed his thoughts to wander. It was time he took a few days off, he decided. He would clear his desk of urgent cases and leave London for a while. He enjoyed driving and the roads were less busy now.
    So when Miriam suggested that he might like to spend the weekend at her parents’ home, he declined firmly, saying, ‘I really can’t spare the time, and I shall be out of London for a few days.’
    â€˜You poor man; you work far too hard. You need a wife to make sure that you don’t do too much.’
    She smiled up at him and then wished that she hadn’t said that. Oliver had made some rejoinder dictated by good manners, but he had glanced at her with indifference from cold blue eyes. She must be careful, she reflected; she had set her heart on him for a husband…
    Dr Fforde left London a week later. He had allowed himself three days: ample time to drive to York, seek out the village where Amabel was living and make sure that she was happy with this aunt and that she had some definite plans for her future. Although why he should concern himself with that he didn’t go into too deeply.
    A silly impetuous girl, he told himself, not meaning a word of it.
    He left after an early breakfast, taking Tiger with him, sitting erect and watchful beside him, sliding through the morning traffic until at last he reached the M1. After a while he stopped at a service station, allowed Tiger a short run, drank a cup of coffee and drove on until, mindful of Tiger’s heavy sighs, he stopped in a village north of Chesterfield.
    The pub was almost empty and Tiger, his urgent needs dealt with, was made welcome, with a bowl of water and biscuits, while the doctor sat down before a plate of beef sandwiches, home-made pickles and half a pint of real ale.
    Much refreshed, they got back into the car presently, their journey nearing its end. The doctor, a man who, having looked at the map before he started a journey, never needed to look at it again, turned off the motorway and made his way through country roads until he was rewarded by the sight of Bolton Percy’s main street.
    He stopped before the village stores and went in. The village was a small one; Amabel’s whereabouts would be known…
    As well as the severe-looking lady behind the counter there were several customers, none of whom appeared to be shopping with any urgency. They all turned to look at him as he went in, and even the severe-looking lady smiled at his pleasant greeting.
    An elderly woman at the counter spoke up. ‘Wanting to know the way? I’m in no hurry. Mrs Bluett—’ she indicated the severe lady ‘—she’ll help you.’
    Dr Fforde smiled his thanks. ‘I’m looking for a Miss Amabel Parsons.’
    He was eyed with even greater interest.
    â€˜Staying with her aunt— Miss Parsons up