Dance-of-the-Snake-Yvonne-Whittal Read online

  which the voice had come. A woman appeared in the doorway to Jessica's

  right. She was tall and beautifully proportioned, and she stopped abruptly at the

  sight of Jessica, a mixture of humour and uncertainty flashing across her

  perfectly chiselled face. 'Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. I was expecting Dr Neal to

  arrive, and I naturally presumed

  '

  'I am Dr Neal,' Jessica interrupted.

  ' You're Dr Neal?' Dark eyes widened in surprise, and she stared at Jessica

  speechlessly for a second or two, then, for some curious reason, she burst out

  laughing, and it was some time before she finally managed to control herself.

  'You must forgive me, my dear,' she apologised weakly, brushing the moisture

  from her eyes with the tips of her fingers. 'I just couldn't help myself.'

  Jessica's back was rigid as she stared up at this tall woman with her dark hair

  combed back from her face and coiled into a chignon in the nape of her neck.

  'You find it amusing that I'm a woman?'

  'Yes—no—oh, heavens, this is getting worse. Come and sit down while I try

  to explain.' She led the way into the large living-room with its attractive

  mixture of modern and antique furnishings, and gestured Jessica into a chair

  before seating herself elegantly in the chair opposite. 'My husband has talked

  of nothing else these past weeks but of the new man he was expecting,' she

  explained, merriment sparkling in her eyes, 'and I'm just dying to see his face

  when he discovers that you're a woman.'

  Taken aback, Jessica stared at the woman facing her.

  She had never once given it a thought that they might be expecting a man, and the

  discovery disturbed her considerably. 'Dr O'Brien never queried whether I was

  male or female, and as our correspondence progressed I naturally presumed that

  he knew I was a woman.'

  'Well, he's certainly going to be surprised when he finds out.' The woman's

  eyes, a shade darker than Jessica's, crinkled at the corners with apologetic

  humour. 'Forgive me, my dear, but I'm Vivien O'Brien, as you must have

  guessed, and now that I've met you I'm extremely curious to know what the "J"

  stands for.'

  'Jessica.'

  'Shylock's daughter,' Vivien O'Brien remarked absently.

  'I beg your pardon?'

  6 The Merchant of Venice,'

  'Oh, yes,1 Jessica smiled faintly, her brow clearing. 'My mother was an avid

  reader of Shakespeare's plays.'

  Vivien O'Brien was somewhere in her mid-thirties, Jessica guessed, and her

  figure still possessed a slender elegance which was as enviable as her height.

  'You must think me extremely rude,' Vivien interrupted Jessica's observation.

  'Could I offer you something to drink? A cup of tea, perhaps?'

  'I would prefer to get myself settled, if you don't mind,' Jessica replied politely.

  'It's been a long journey, and I'm rather tired.'

  'Yes, of course. I'll show you ' The shrill ring of the

  telephone in the hall interrupted her. 'Excuse me a moment.'

  Vivien crossed the room and stepped into the hall, but from the expression on

  her face when she glanced towards Jessica a few moments later, the caller could

  have been no one else but her husband.

  'Yes, Peter, Dr Neal has arrived,' Vivien assured him, her eyes dancing with

  merriment as they met Jessica's. 'I was on the point of taking . . . er .. . Dr Neal

  across to the cottage. If you're on your way home, then you should find us there.'

  There was a brief pause, then Vivien said gaily, 'See you soon, darling.'

  'That was Dr O'Brien?' Jessica queried, rising from her chair as Vivien

  re-entered the living-room.

  'Yes,' Vivien nodded, obviously finding it difficult to hide her inner

  amusement. 'He will be home in a few minutes, but in the meantime I'll show you

  the way to the cottage.' Jessica followed her out into the garden where the rays of

  the late afternoon sun seemed to bathe everything in gold. 'If you take your car

  round the corner you'll find the entrance to the cottage, and there's a carport at

  your disposal.'

  'Thank you.'

  Vivien obviously took a short cut through the garden, for when Jessica drove

  through the private entrance to the thatched cottage she found her waiting there

  with a small bunch of keys dangling from her fingers.

  The cottage was not as small as Jessica had imagined it would be. There were

  two bedrooms, a dining-room, lounge, kitchen and bathroom, and all the rooms

  were spacious and airy.

  'This was originally my husband's consulting-rooms until we altered it some

  years ago into a guest cottage. When Peter started thinking of taking on an

  assistant we thought the cottage would be absolutely ideal for that purpose,'

  Vivien explained while taking Jessica on a tour of her new home. 'It looks rather

  bare, I'm afraid, but it leaves you plenty of room to add your own personal

  touches to the inside appearance.'

  Jessica allowed her glance to travel over the neat pine- wood furniture with its

  bright floral coverings in the lounge, and felt instantly at home. 'I'm certain I shall

  find it very comfortable.'

  Vivien's warm smile deepened with pleasure. 'There's

  a private telephone at your disposal. We've also installed an air-conditioner to

  make the summer months tolerable, and, knowing how busy you're going to be,

  you will have your evening meal with Peter and myself.'

  'That's very kind of you, but I would prefer to manage on my own as much as

  possible,' Jessica declined politely, but firmly.

  'Very well, I accept that, but only on one condition,' Vivien conceded. 'You

  will eat with us this evening, and if, in future, you're kept out late on some or

  other case, I hope you'll allow me to make arrangements for a meal to be left in

  your oven for you.'

  'Thank you, I would appreciate that,' Jessica found herself relenting.

  'That's settled, then, and ' Vivien broke off

  abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming along the path outside the cottage.

  'That will be Peter.'

  'Are you there, Vivien?' a pleasant male voice demanded.

  'Yes, darling.' Vivien paused to wink mischievously at Jessica. 'Do come in.

  We're in the lounge.'

  Tall, lean and fair, Peter O'Brien stepped into the cottage and, like Vivien, he

  halted abruptly at the sight of the small, slim young woman standing beside his

  wife.

  'Good afternoon,' he nodded briefly, his blue eyes casting a searching glance

  about the room before focussing on Jessica once more. 'I'm afraid I was under

  the impression that Dr Neal was unmarried.'

  'Please allow me to introduce you, Peter,' Vivien intervened smoothly. 'This

  is Dr Jessica Neal. Dr Neal, I'd like you to meet my husband, Peter O'Brien.'

  Jessica's own sense of humour was beginning to stir at the look of shocked

  surprise on Dr O'Brien's lean face, but she could not entirely discard her

  wariness as she said politely, 'How do you do, Dr O'Brien.'

  'Well, I . . . Good gracious, I had no idea ... I never

  once thought that . . .'

  Vivien's laughter rang out clearly at the sight of her husband shaking his fair

  head in helpless confusion. ‘I’ve never yet known you to stumble in your efforts
>
  to find the right words, darling.5

  'Quite frankly, I'm stunned,' Peter O'Brien confessed.

  Jessica met his blue gaze directly, her prickly pride severely suppressed. 'Does

  my being a woman make a difference?'

  'Certainly not!' the words almost exploded from the man before her. 'Your

  qualifications are excellent, Dr Neal, and that's all I'm concerned with. If I

  appear taken aback because you're a woman, then it's merely because I took it for

  granted that you were a man, and I never thought to query it.' He held out his

  hand and Jessica r found hers taken in a warm clasp. 'Welcome to Louisville, Dr

  Neal, and may your stay here with us be a happy one.'

  'Thank you, Dr O'Brien,' Jessica smiled with an inward sigh of relief.

  'Well, I think we should give Jessica the opportunity to settle in, and freshen

  up,' Vivien intervened, her warm glance questioning as it rested on Jessica. 'You

  don't mind if I call you Jessica, do you?'

  'I don't mind at all,'Jessica replied a little breathlessly.

  'Dinner is at seven, my dear,' Vivien told her brightly. 'If you take the flagstone

  path you'll find it a short cut through the garden to our home.'

  'Thank you.'

  'We'll see you later, then,' Vivien smiled, linking her arm through her

  husband's, but at the door she paused once more to glance back at Jessica. 'Don't

  dress specially for the occasion. Dinner in our home is nearly always casual.'

  For some time after they had left Jessica remained where she was, drinking in

  the silence and the utter peace of her surroundings. She was going to like it here,

  she knew that now, and an inner excitement provided her with the energy to want

  to offload her car as quickly as possible.

  A large black woman came bustling along the path towards Jessica as she

  emerged from the cottage, and two rows of white, shining teeth were bared in a

  friendly smile. Her name was Lettie, she introduced herself, and Mrs O'Brien had

  instructed her to help the young Missy Doctor carry her things into the cottage.

  To have refused her help would have meant offending her, and a half hour later

  Jessica was decidedly glad that she had allowed Lettie to help her carry her

  belongings into her new home, for her limbs were stiff and aching, and it gave her

  plenty of time afterwards to soak in a relaxing bath.

  She would unpack later, Jessica decided, opening one of her suitcases and

  selecting a cool, wrinkle-free dress which looked neat but casual when she finally

  glanced at herself in the mirror, and after slipping her feet into a pair of

  high-heeled sandals, which added at least a few inches to her height, she was

  almost ready to face Dr O'Brien and his wife for dinner.

  An hour later Jessica was seated once again in Vivien O'Brien's spacious and

  beautifully furnished living-room, and on this occasion her appearance did not

  cause the disturbance it had done earlier.

  'Wine, Jessica?' Dr O'Brien offered.

  'That would be nice, thank you, Eh* O'Brien.'

  'Peter,' he corrected, filling a long-stemmed glass with crimson liquid and

  handing it to her. 'If we're going to work well together, then I would prefer to drop

  the for- malities as from this moment.'

  Jessica smiled her agreement and sipped at her wine before remarking

  enquiringly, 'You mentioned in your correspondence that you have a partner.'

  'Yes,' he nodded, lowering his long, lean body into a chair, and stretching out

  his legs before him. 'His name is Dane Trafford.'

  'Dane is a bachelor,' Vivien explained in more detail, 'and he's a little bit of a

  rake as far as the townspeople are concerned.'

  'That's enough, Vivien,' Peter O'Brien scowled disapprovingly.

  'It's only right that Jessica should know what kind of man she's going to be

  closely associated with,' Vivien argued calmly. -

  'Dane is a fine doctor,' her husband protested.

  'I've never questioned that,' Vivien replied as Jessica sat back to observe this

  verbal altercation between husband and wife. 'The problem is that Dane's

  personal life has certainly given the people of Louisville much to talk and

  speculate about.'

  'His personal life is none of our business.'

  'Peter, you know I'm very fond of Dane, and, even though he's a bit of a rake at

  times, he has such likeable ways when he decides to put aside his cynicism.'

  Peter O'Brien sipped at his wine and shrugged carelessly. 'He most likely has

  his reasons for being cynical about certain things.'

  'I don't question that either,' Vivien acknowledged, 'but you can't expect the

  people not to talk among themselves when that Summers woman arrives from

  Pretoria every so often to move in with him for the weekend.'

  'Sylvia Summers is a beautiful woman,' Peter remarked, mischief dancing in

  his blue eyes.

  'Oh, yes, I suppose so,' Vivien snorted. 'If you approve of the type of woman

  who wears the minimum of clothes in order to leave nothing to the imagination,

  then one could say that she's beautiful.'

  'Jealous, Vivien?'

  Vivien O'Brien flashed her husband a smile that was devoid of malice, but

  filled with obvious humour. 'Darling, if I didn't know that you loved me to

  distraction then I might have been.' Peter's bark of laughter sobered her once

  more. 'As I was saying, his affair with Sylvia Summers has certainly not endeared

  him to the simple country folk living here, and he has only himself to blame for

  that.'

  'Don't put Jessica off Dane before she's even met him,' Peter warned

  humorously, and Vivien's dark glance slid across to where Jessica sat so quietly.

  'Jessica, my dear, despite all I've said, Dane has an undeniable charm which

  would make any woman feel that she was something special. The women frown

  upon his behaviour, but they nevertheless crowd out the waiting- room to see him

  specifically.' She smiled suddenly and added warningly, 'Take care, my dear.'

  'Of Dr Trafford, or his lady friend?' Jessica asked carefully.

  'Of both,' Vivien replied, her glance becoming speculative. 'The Summers

  woman may not do more than scratch your eyes out, but Dane might tear your

  heart out, and it's the latter I'm afraid of.'

  'I'm a doctor, Vivien,' Jessica reminded her, 'and I have been closely involved

  with all kinds of men ever since my days as a student.'

  'You're also a woman, don't forget that, and a very attractive and feminine

  woman too, if I may say so.'

  'You should get together with my mother,' Jessica laughed with a touch of

  embarrassment. 'She has, during the past years, considered me anything but

  feminine.'

  'That's because, like most mothers, she wanted a daughter with a tendency

  towards frills and lace, but instead you wandered into the world of men, and she

  most probably considers that somewhere along the way you have forgotten how

  to be a woman.' Vivien's remarkable insight very nearly succeeded in taking

  Jessica's breath

  away. 'I'm right, aren't I?' Vivien demanded.

  'You're absolutely right,' Jessica admitted, unable to hide her surprise.

  Peter O'Brien cleared his throat and set aside his empty glass. 'Forgive me for

  interrupting, but my insides are beginning to cry out for sustenanc
e.'

  'How like a man!' Vivien teased. 'They can think of nothing else but food.'

  Over dinner Peter discussed with Jessica the routine he and Dr Trafford

  followed, but she knew it would be largely a case of helping out where she would

  be needed and, later that evening, when she returned to her cottage, she found

  that she had plenty to think about. The O'Briens were a pleasant, likeable couple,

  but Dr Dane Trafford was an unknown quantity. Vivien's remarks had stirred the

  surface of her interest, but she had no intention of spending the rest of the night

  wondering about Peter O'Brien's partner, and the woman who so openly lived

  with him at times as his mistress.

  Jessica telephoned her parents instead to inform them of her safe arrival, and,

  after unpacking a few things, she made herself a cup of coffee and went to bed.

  She had the entire weekend ahead of her to settle into the cottage. She would

  have to stock up the cupboards in the kitchen, and she was going to enjoy these

  few days of relaxation before plunging in at the deep end on the Monday morning

  as Peter O'Brien had promised.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE weekend passed much too swiftly for Jessica, who was beginning to relish

  the thought of making a home for herself in the neat, whitewashed cottage that

  nestled at the far end of the O'Briens' colourful garden. Here she could be a

  woman as well as a doctor, and that ought to please her mother, she thought with

  a wry smile.

  Peter O'Brien's consulting-rooms were in an old house just off the town's main

  street, a house which had been altered to suit the purpose, and when Jessica

  entered the building on that Monday morning with Peter, the first person she met

  was Sister Emily Hansen. Elderly and professional, Sister Hansen overcame her

  initial shock at discovering that the new doctor was a woman, and welcomed

  Jessica into the fold with something that bordered on motherly warmth.

  'Dr Trafford telephoned a few minutes ago,' Sister Hansen informed Peter

  eventually. 'He was called out to the Grayson farm early this morning, and he'll

  be in a little later than usual this morning.'

  'Damn!' Peter muttered under his breath. 'What's the problem?'

  'One of the labourers was apparently gored by an angry bull, and Dr Trafford is

  bringing him in to the hospital for possible surgery,' Sister Hansen explained.