The Bachelor's Wedding
Betty Neels
Mills & Boon presents the complete Betty Neels collection. Timeless tales of heart-warming romance by one of the world’s best-loved romance authors. Christmas Delights…Claudia first met Thomas when he was asked to discuss the health of her great-uncle, Colonel Ramsay. After the colonel’s death, Thomas always seemed to be around— and then, astonishingly, he proposed.It took a wonderfully delightful Christmas with his family for Claudia to realize that she truly loved her new husband. Now all she had to do was find a way to persuade Thomas to love her…
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ub02efe94-c514-5b82-8564-994c5992f5ad)
Excerpt (#u681bcce4-ed5f-5644-8398-5b29dbb60ad1)
Title Page (#u74dc2fc2-3e36-50fc-9641-a3360001c680)
Chapter One (#ucb619d00-8517-5a97-be0f-e306d6f9a4bc)
Chapter Two (#uafe618ac-ce06-53d3-acb7-f7c0c58038ee)
Chapter Three (#u18a63872-3476-5254-a9af-e79e7496b9bc)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“I must settle for second best.
“I have always hoped that one day I would meet a woman I would want to love and live with the rest of my life, but it seems she has eluded me.” The professor paused to look at Araminta, sitting very much at ease, smiling a little.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I considered it right to explain my feelings before I ask you to marry me, Araminta.”
The Bachelor’s Wedding
Betty Neels
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_8d4e9777-dd6b-5c7c-95a5-e35f0109c115)
THE pale February sunshine shining through the window highlighted the pleasant room beyond: a room of restful colours, greens and blues and greys, chosen no doubt to dispel the unease of the patients who entered it. Such a one was on the point of leaving, escorted to the door by Professor Jason Lister, a large, very tall man, remarkably handsome with it. He shook hands now, gave the lady a reassuring smile, and handed her over to his receptionist before closing the door again and going back to his desk to pick up his pen and begin to write.
He had hardly done so when the door opened and the receptionist poked her head round it. The professor didn’t lift his head. ‘Later, Mrs Wells, I’m due at the hospital in half an hour…’
‘Yes, I know, sir, but it’s Mrs Gault on the outside line. She says she must speak to you at once.’
He took off his reading-glasses and sighed. ‘Very well.’ He smiled as he spoke, and Mrs Wells, a middle-aged widow with a sentimental heart, beamed at him.
The voice at the other end of the phone was urgent and agitated. ‘Jason? Is that you?’ The voice didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I’ve just had a phone call from that place in Chile where Tom is—he’s ill, and they want me to go there as soon as possible. I’m packing now. The children have half-term tomorrow and my flight goes midmorning. I can’t leave them here alone…’
‘Where is Patty?’
‘She’s gone home to nurse her mother—I’ve been managing without her. Jason, what shall I do?’
‘The children can come here; I’ll find someone to collect them and look after them while you’re away. I can’t get to your place, I’m afraid, but I’ll arrange something and phone you back. Don’t worry more than you must.’
He put down the receiver, switched on the intercom, and asked Mrs Wells to come in.
‘We have a problem,’ he told her, his placid voice giving no hint of the size of it. And when he had finished telling her, he asked, ‘Do you know of an agency where I can get someone at a moment’s notice?’
‘Yes, I do, sir. There’s a very good one—in Kingsway, I believe. I can look it up. Will you speak to them?’
‘Please, and as soon as possible.’
The mellifluous voice at the agency assured him that a person suitable to his requirements would be sent immediately.
‘After six o’clock,’ he made the request, ‘and this is the address. It must be someone who is prepared to travel down to Tisbury—that is a small town in Wiltshire—by the early-morning train.’
The professor put down the receiver, put his spectacles on again and resumed his writing, and presently took himself off to the hospital in his dark grey Rolls Royce.
When the phone rang, Araminta was peeling potatoes. She dried her hands and went to answer it, although her sister Alice was sitting within a foot of the instrument, but then Alice had been told two years ago that she had anaemia and must lead a quiet life, an instruction which she obeyed to the letter, encouraged by their father, who doted on her.
‘Yes?’ said Araminta, anxious to get back to the potatoes.
‘Miss Smith? I have an urgent job for you. Short-term, I believe.’
The woman from the agency gave the details in a businesslike manner. ‘After six o’clock, and Professor Lister is depending on you.’
She rang off prudently before Araminta could refuse to go.
‘That’s a job,’ said Araminta. ‘I’ll finish the potatoes, but perhaps you could cook the supper. I may be gone for a few hours.’
Alice looked alarmed. ‘But, Araminta, you know I’m supposed to take life easily…’
‘I don’t suppose it would harm you to grill the chops, love. We do need the money—Father borrowed the housekeeping. I don’t know what for.’
Alice looked awkward. ‘Well, I did mention that I needed another dressing-gown, and he bought me one.’
Araminta turned round at the door. She spoke cheerfully, for there was no point in voicing her hurt that their father loved Alice dearly and regarded herself as the housekeeper and occasional wage-earner. He was kind to her and sometimes, when he remembered, he told her how useful it was that she was so handy around the house, as well as getting the occasional job from the agency. ‘There’s plenty of food in the fridge if I’m not back in a day or two.’
She finished the potatoes, changed into her tweed jacket and skirt—suitable for the occasion, she hoped— made sure that her hair was neatly coiled and that her nose was powdered, found an umbrella and went to catch a bus.
It was a long bus ride from her home in a narrow street near Warren Street station to the address she had been given—a small street close to Cavendish Square— and it was already after five o’clock. Six o’clock had long since struck by the time she reached the house, one of a terrace of Regency houses, pristine in their gleaming paint and shining brasswork, and she paused a moment to take a good look before mounting the steps to its front door.
It was opened by an elderly, rotund man with a fringe of hair and an impassive face. When she stated her name he stood aside for her to go in, waved her to a chair in the hall, and begged her to wait.
It was a pleasant hall, not large but welcoming, with crimson wallpaper, a polished wood floor and ormolu wall-lights; there were no pictures on the walls, but on the small mahogany table there was a beautiful bowl full of early spring flowers. Araminta sniffed appreciatively.
She wasn’t kept waiting; the rotund man came back within a few minutes and asked her to follow him to the end of the hall and through a door at its end. The room had a large bay window, its heavy velvet curtains not drawn; there would be a garden beyond, she supposed, as she crossed the carpeted floor to stand before the large desk in one corner of the room. The professor got slowly to his feet, the book he had been reading in his hand, a finger marking the page. He stood for a moment, looking at her over his spectacles.
‘Miss Smith? Miss Araminta Smith?’
She took exception to the lifted eyebrow. ‘Yes— Araminta because it makes up for Smith, if you see what I mean!’
He perceived that this rather dowdy girl with no looks worth mentioning might not be quite what she seemed. He put his book on the desk reluctantly—for he had been relaxing with the poems of Horace—in the original Latin, of course.
‘Please sit down, Miss Smith. I was expecting someone of a rather more mature…That is, your charges are young teenagers and, if you will forgive me for saying so, you look—er—rather young yourself.’
‘Twenty-three,’ said Araminta matter-of-factly. ‘Young enough to be able to understand them and old enough to be listened to.’ Since he looked doubtful, she added kindly, ‘Try me—if I don’t do you can find someone else, but the agency said that you needed someone urgently, so perhaps I could be of help until you do.’
She wasn’t suitable but she would have to do, at least for the moment.
‘It will be necessary for you to catch an early-morning train from Paddington. My nephew and niece are to stay here with me while their mother goes to her husband, who is ill. I have a manservant and his wife who live in the house, but they are too elderly to cope with teenagers. That will be your task.’
‘For how long, Mr Lister?’ She paused. ‘Should I have said Doctor? The agency said you were in the medical profession.’
‘Professor will do.’ He smiled at her. She was nothing to look at, but he liked her sensible manner. ‘Only for their half-term—a week. My sister has a splendid housekeeper, who has unfortunately gone to her home to nurse her mother. She should be back, and probably my sister will have returned by then.’
Everything quite satisfactory, thought Araminta; the problem of making arrangements for Alice and her father at a few hours’ notice would be dealt with presently. She bade the professor a staid goodbye, and he called her back as she reached the door.
‘You will need some money for fares and expenses,’ he pointed out mildly, and took out his notecase. The amount he gave her was over-generous, and she said so.
‘I shall expect an exact account of what you have spent,’ he told her.
She flashed him a look from her dark eyes. ‘Naturally,’ she told him coldly.
He ignored the coldness. ‘Mrs Buller will have everything ready; perhaps you will phone her as to what time you expect to arrive here. My sister has the number.’
Araminta nodded her tidy head. ‘Very well, Professor Lister. Good evening.’ He had opened the door for her, and she went past him into the hall and found Buller there, ready to speed her on her way. He gave her a fatherly smile.
‘Quite an upheaval, Miss—the professor leads a very quiet life—but I daresay we shall manage.’
She hoped so, and then concentrated on her own problems.
It was to be expected that Alice would be difficult. Araminta had been working for the agency for some time now, but always on a daily basis; now she was actually going to leave Alice and her father on their own.
‘How am I supposed to manage?’ stormed Alice when Araminta arrived at home. ‘You know how delicate I am—the doctor said I had to lead a quiet life. You’re selfish, Araminta, going off like this. You must say you can’t go.’ She lapsed into easy tears. ‘You might think of me…’
‘Well, I am,’ said Araminta sensibly. ‘There’s almost no money in the house, there’s the gas bill waiting to be paid and the TV licence, and Father’s salary won’t be paid into the bank for another week. If you want to eat, I’ll have to take this job. There’s plenty in the fridge, and you can go to the shops for anything you need. I dare say a little walk would do you good. Or Father can shop on his way home.’
‘Who is to make the beds and cook and do the housework?’ wailed Alice.
‘Well, I expect you could manage between you for a few days.’
‘You’re hard,’ cried Alice. ‘All you do is think of yourself.’
Araminta bit back the words on the tip of her tongue. She was, after all, a normal girl, wishing for pretty clothes and money in her pocket and a man to love her, and she saw no hope of getting any of these wishes. She went upstairs to her small bedroom in the little terraced house and packed a bag. Her wardrobe was meagre; she folded a sober grey dress—half-price in the sales and useful for her kind of job—a couple of sweaters, blouses and undies, dressing-gown and slippers, a tweed skirt and a rainproof jacket. Almost all she had, actually, and as she packed she could hear her father and sister talking in the sitting-room downstairs. She sighed a little, and made sure that she had all she needed in her handbag before going to join them.
It took the rest of that evening convincing her father that she really had to go. He was an easygoing man, spending money when he had it and borrowing when he hadn’t, but even he had to admit that there was a shortage of cash in the house.
‘Well,’ he said easily, ‘you go along and enjoy yourself, my dear. Alice and I will manage somehow. I’ll use what money there is, for you’ll bring your fees back with you, I suppose?’ He smiled at her with vague affection. ‘Our little wage-earner.’ He got up. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea before we go to bed.’
‘Not all the fees, Father,’ said Araminta in a quiet voice. ‘I need a new pair of shoes…’
She was up and dressed and eating a hasty breakfast when Alice came yawning into the kitchen. ‘You might have brought me a cup,’ she said plaintively.
‘No time,’ said Araminta, her mouth full. ‘I’ll phone you in a day or two when I know how things are going. Say goodbye to Father for me, will you?’
She dropped a kiss on her sister’s cheek and flew out of the door with her case, intent on catching a bus to Paddington.
The train was half-empty and she sat in a windowseat, watching the wintry landscape, glad to have the next hour and a half to herself. She had few qualms about the job; she had been working for the agency for more than a year now, although this was the first time the job was expected to last as long as a week—perhaps not even that if Professor Lister found her unsatisfactory. She wasn’t sure what to make of him; he hadn’t approved of her, that was evident, but he had been pleasant enough in a rather absent-minded manner. Hopefully he would be out of the house for most of the day; she would only need to keep the children out of his way in the early mornings and the evenings.
When she got out of the train at Tisbury she was thankful to find an elderly taxi parked outside the station. The driver was pleasant and chatty and, when she gave him the address, said at once, ‘Oh, Mrs Gault— poor lady. Worried sick, she is, with her husband ill on the other side of the world. Come to give a hand, have you? Half-term and all…’
The house was at the other end of the little town: a red-brick dwelling in a large garden. There was nothing elaborate about it; it was roomy, with large sash windows and a handsome front door with a splendid fanlight— what Araminta supposed one would describe as a gentleman’s residence. She paid the taxi-driver, took her case and rang the bell, and then, since no one came, banged the brass knocker.
The door was flung open then by a youngish woman with untidy dark hair and Professor Lister’s blue eyes. ‘Oh, good, you’re here. Do come in—you have no idea how glad I am to see you.’ She held out a firm, friendly hand. ‘I’m Lydia Gault…’
‘Araminta Smith. What would you like me to do first?’
‘You’re heaven-sent, and sensible too. My taxi comes for me in just two hours. I’m trying to get the children organised—you’ve no idea…You’d like a cup of coffee, I expect?’
Araminta put down her case and took off her coat. She was wearing a tweed skirt and a blouse and cardigan, and the sensible shoes which needed replacing. ‘I’d love one. If you will show me where the kitchen is, I’ll make coffee for everyone, shall I? And, while we drink it, you can tell me what you want me to do.’
‘Through here—everything’s in the cupboard in the corner. I’ll see how the children are getting on with their packing. It’s only for a week…’
Mrs Gault disappeared and Araminta put on the kettle, found coffee, sugar and milk, assembled four mugs on the kitchen table and opened a tin of biscuits, and when that was done she got her notebook and pen from her handbag and laid them on the table too. She had a good memory, but she imagined that Mrs Gault would have a great many instructions to give her.
Mrs Gault came back again then, and the children with her. The boy, Jimmy, was tall and thin, with fair hair and a look of mischief about him; Gloria was younger, barely thirteen, but already very pretty. She was fair too, and she looked friendly. She was holding a large tabby cat in her arms and a Jack Russell trotted beside her, barking loudly.
She said at once, ‘Tibs and Mutt are coming with us to Uncle Jason’s.’
‘Why not?’ agreed Araminta, smiling. ‘They couldn’t possibly be left alone, could they?’
‘He might mind,’ said Jimmy.
‘Well, if they are already there I don’t suppose he’ll object.’ Araminta swallowed some coffee and picked up her pen. ‘I assume there’s a train this afternoon, Mrs Gault? We leave after you, I expect?’
‘Yes, there’s a train just after four o’clock. You’ll need a taxi. Leave a note for the milkman, will you, and turn off the gas—I suppose we could leave the electricity on? Jimmy—what do you think?’
‘Of course. Did you stop the papers? When is Patty coming back?’
His mother frowned. ‘I phoned but there was no answer. Will you ring from Uncle Jason’s?’ She turned to Araminta. ‘Will you leave the fridge and freezer on and be sure to lock up and see that all the windows are shut? Does Jason know what time you’ll be back in London?’
‘No, he asked me to ring his housekeeper as soon as I knew the train time.’
‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry this is all such a muddle, but I suppose you’re used to this kind of job.’ Mrs Gault hesitated. ‘I suppose you couldn’t get some sort of meal for us all? Just anything,’ she added vaguely. ‘I’ve mislaid my sunglasses—I’m sure to need them. Gloria, finish your packing, darling, and, Jimmy, write a note for the milkman, will you?’
The three of them hurried away and Araminta, with Tibs and Mutt getting very much under her feet, flung open cupboards and fridge. Omelettes, oven chips and peas, she decided, since there wasn’t time to cook anything elaborate. The animals needed to be fed too. She dealt with them first and, with them satisfied, set about getting the food ready.
She had the table in the kitchen laid after a fashion and the meal just ready when Mrs Gault and the children came back, and this time they were dressed ready to leave.
There was a great rush at the last minute: things missing, messages forgotten, and Mrs Gault, worried to death about her husband, hating to leave the children, spilling instructions until the final moment as she drove away in the taxi.
If Araminta had worked hard before Mrs Gault left, she found the rest of the afternoon even more arduous. Jimmy and Gloria were nice young people, but she was quick to see that they intended to reduce her to the level of a superior servant given half a chance. Only she didn’t give them that; there was still a lot to do before they could leave. She toured the house with Jimmy, making sure that he watched her closing windows and locking doors before they all piled into the taxi.
The train was nearly empty. Mutt sat on Jimmy’s knees and Tibby slept in her basket. The children didn’t say much; now that the rush and bustle were over they were despondent, talking together quietly, ignoring her, and she for her part was glad to be left in peace, for she was tired now; her day had started early and was by no means over yet.
She had phoned the professor’s house before they left Tisbury, and Buller had assured her that there would be an early supper and their rooms would be ready for them. ‘Professor Lister will probably be late home, miss,’ he had told her, and she hoped that that would be the case. She suspected that after a hard day’s work at the hospital he relished his quiet evenings. It would be nice if she could get the children to bed before he returned.
It was quite a short journey from Paddington to his house, and Buller was waiting for them. The children treated him as an old friend and went at once to the kitchen to see Mrs Buller, leaving Araminta with the animals and the luggage. ‘Now just you leave everything, miss,’ said Buller kindly. ‘There’ll be a tray of tea in the sitting-room at the back of the hall in five minutes, and I’ll get the bags upstairs. The children are on the right at the top of the stairs, miss, and your room is on the opposite side, if you care to go up.’
The stairs opened on to a square landing, with doors on either side and a passage leading to the back of the house. There was another smaller staircase too, but she didn’t stop to look around her but opened the door Buller had pointed out and went in.
The room was fair-sized, light and airy and charmingly furnished, and there was a bathroom leading from it. She registered a strong desire to tumble on to the bed and go to sleep, but she took off her outdoor things, tidied her hair and did her face, and went downstairs again.
Buller was in the hall. ‘Jimmy came for Tibs and Mutt,’ he told her. ‘Tea is ready for you, miss.’
She thanked him. ‘Do you suppose the professor will mind about the animals?’ she asked.
‘I think not, miss. We have two dogs—golden Labradors. They are at present being exercised by Maisie, the housemaid. They are mild-tempered animals, however, and I foresee no trouble.’
He led the way to the small cosy room where he had set the tea-tray. There was a bright fire in the steel grate and comfortable chairs drawn up to it.
‘I’ll send the children to you, miss,’ said Buller.
They came presently, not over-friendly. Araminta handed round tea and buttered toast, sandwiches and little cakes, and said in her sensible voice, ‘When we’ve had tea, perhaps you would unpack your things and put them away? I don’t know what arrangements are to be made about Tibs and Mutt—perhaps you’ve already seen to that?’ She looked at Jimmy. ‘Your Uncle has two dogs, I believe.’
‘They’ll be OK. They’ve met Mutt and Tibs when Uncle Jason has been down to see us.’
‘Oh, good, and we can take Mutt for a walk—Hyde Park isn’t far away, is it? And Tibs—will she settle down nicely?’
‘She’s my cat,’ said Gloria. ‘She sleeps on my bed.’ She sounded sulky. ‘Mrs Buller says we may have our supper in the kitchen; Uncle won’t be home for ages. I’ll unpack in the morning.’
‘We’ll go upstairs and unpack now,’ said Araminta, ‘otherwise you’ll have to waste the morning doing it, when you might want to be doing something more interesting.’
‘You’re awfully bossy,’ said Gloria. ‘I suppose you’ll eat in the kitchen with Buller and Mrs Buller and Maisie?’
‘I dare say,’ said Araminta equably. ‘Never mind about me—let’s get our things put away.’
‘Patty always saw to our things for us,’ grumbled Jimmy, tumbling shirts into the elegant little tallboy in his room.
Araminta turned to look at him from the pile of socks she was sorting out. ‘Did she?’ She sounded surprised. ‘But you’re almost grown-up, Jimmy.’
He muttered a reply, and she went to see how Gloria was getting on.
She was on the bed, leafing through a magazine, clothes strewn around on the chairs and the floor. She looked up as Araminta went in.
‘I can’t be bothered to put everything away—Patty always does it.’
‘Well, Patty’s not here, and since I’m not your nanny I think you had better tidy things up, for no one else is going to do it for you.’
‘I don’t think I’m going to like you,’ said Gloria.
‘That’s a pity, but it’s only for a few days, and if I make you unhappy I’m sure your uncle will try and get someone else from the agency. You see, there wasn’t time for him to pick and choose—he had to take the only person free, and that was me.’
‘Haven’t you got a home?’
‘Oh, yes, and a father and sister.’
‘Why do you go out to work, then?’
Araminta said bracingly, ‘Let’s not talk about me. I’m not a bit interesting.’
She sat down on one of the little armchairs by the window and Gloria got off the bed and began to push things into cupboards and drawers.
‘I’m tired,’ she grumbled, but she sounded more friendly now. ‘We had to get up ever so early.’
‘Well, I expect supper won’t be too long. Then you can come to bed with a book—your uncle’s not here, so you don’t need to stay up unless you want to.’
‘Oh.’ She glanced sideways at Araminta. ‘Don’t you mind Tibs sleeping on my bed?’
‘Mind? Why should I mind? I like cats—dogs too. How old is she?’
‘Daddy gave her to me on my sixth birthday.’
‘She’s very pretty, and your constant companion, I dare say.’
Gloria raked a comb through her hair. ‘I want my supper.’
‘Then let’s go and see if it’s ready.’
‘Jimmy and me, not you,’ said Gloria. ‘The kitchen staff eat later.’
‘We’d better get Jimmy,’ said Araminta mildly. She was used, after a year at the agency, to living in a kind of no man’s land while she was at a job. She had minded at first, but now she accepted whatever status was offered her.
Supper was ready, and Buller led the children down to the basement kitchen and then came back to where Araminta stood uncertainly in the hall.
‘The professor telephoned. He hopes you will dine with him if you are not too tired. In the meantime, once Jimmy and Gloria are in bed, perhaps you would care to sit in the drawing-room? There are the day’s papers there and some magazines.’
Araminta said bluntly, ‘Aren’t I supposed to take my meals in the kitchen?’
Buller said in a shocked voice, ‘Certainly not, Miss. I have my instructions from the professor.’
‘Well, thank you. I’ll sit in the room where we had tea, shall I, until the children are ready? Will Professor Lister be very late, do you think?’
‘There’s no telling, miss. But I should imagine within the next hour or so.’
So she went and sat by the fire and thought about her day and contemplated the week ahead of her. Jimmy and Gloria were nice young people, she was sure, but, she suspected, spoilt. They were of an age to be rude and thoughtless—she could remember being both at their age—but as long as she could keep them occupied and happy, and at the same time out of their uncle’s way unless he wished for their company, it shouldn’t be too bad.
They joined her presently and, when she suggested that they might go to bed since they had had a long day, they demurred.
Araminta made no attempt to change their minds; instead she suggested that they might write letters to their mother. ‘It takes nearly a week by airmail to get to that part of the world,’ she told them, hoping that she was right. ‘Your mother would be glad to hear from you both before she returns.’
‘We’ll phone her tomorrow,’ said Jimmy.
‘Even better,’ said Araminta. ‘You have the number?’
He gave her a sulky look. ‘No, of course not. Uncle Jason will know.’
‘Then you must be sure and get it from him before he leaves in the morning.’
She embarked on a tedious conversation about museums, some of which she suggested that they might go and see during the next few days. She was boring herself and, as she had intended, Jimmy and Gloria as well. It wasn’t long before they declared that they would go to bed. Gloria scooped up Tibs, wished Araminta a sullen goodnight, and went upstairs, and Jimmy, after taking Mutt to the kitchen, followed her. Araminta glanced at the little carriage-clock on the mantelpiece. Almost nine o’clock and no sign of Professor Lister. Her insides rumbled emptily; she would have liked to go to bed too, but not on an empty stomach.
It was very quiet in the house. Buller had suggested that she should sit in the drawing-room once the children were in bed, so she got up and went to the door. The hall was empty and softly lighted and she went a little way into it, wondering which door led to the drawing-room. When she had come to see the professor she had been shown into a room at the back of the house, but there were doors on either side as well. She went to the nearest, opened it, and poked her head round. The dining-room, the oval table laid for dinner, presumably, the silver and glass gleaming in the light of the wall-sconces. She shut the door and crossed the hall to open the one opposite. The library, and a very handsome one too, and, although there was no one there, there was a bright fire burning, and a reading-lamp lighted on one of the small tables drawn up beside the comfortable chairs.
The professor’s voice, soft in her ear, caused her to withdraw her head smartly. ‘Finding your way around, I hope, Miss Smith?’
She turned to face him, breathing rather hard. ‘You should never creep up on people,’ she advised him. ‘They might have weak hearts or something! Buller told me to sit in the drawing-room, if I would like that, but I haven’t found it yet.’
He towered over her, looking concerned and at the same time impatient.
‘My dear Miss Smith, my apologies—I trust no harm has been done to your heart or—er—something. The drawing-room is over here.’ He led the way across the hall and opened another door, and she went past him and stood waiting.
‘Please sit down. I dare say you’re starving, but do have a glass of sherry before we dine.’
‘Thank you. There’s another thing, Professor Lister. Buller gave me a message that I was to dine with you, but if I might put you right about that…I’m just someone from an agency, not your guest. Usually I have my meals in the kitchen with the staff.’
‘While you are in my house you will be so good as to take your meals with me and the children.’
He sounded annoyed, and she murmured, ‘Very well, Professor,’ in a placatory voice which he ignored.
‘They are here, I presume?’
‘Yes, there were no difficulties. They are upstairs in their rooms, but I can’t say they are asleep because I don’t know.’
‘Difficult, were they?’ he wanted to know. ‘Nice children, but spoilt. My sister got away on time? She’s not much good at organising things.’
‘I believe that everything went well. There’s just one thing—Jimmy has brought his dog with him and Gloria has her cat.’ She peeped at him to see how he was taking the news, but his face was impassive. ‘Your two dogs were out with the housemaid when we arrived, and she took them straight to the kitchen. I think they are still there, and so is Mutt—the Jack Russell.’
‘Yes, Buller told me when I phoned. You like dogs?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Good—they can join us then. They appear to have absorbed Jimmy’s dog. They are very good-natured beasts.’
He glanced up as Buller came in. ‘Dinner, Buller? Good—and let Goldie and Neptune out, will you?’
They were crossing the hall when the dogs came padding to meet them. They gave muffled barks as he greeted them, and then went to Araminta, looking up at her with liquid brown eyes, ready to be friends. She crouched down, the better to greet them, while their master stood patiently. She looked up, smiling, and saw the look on his face—impatience? Indifference? She wasn’t sure which of the two, but she got to her feet at once, feeling vaguely foolish. He must find her and the children a tiresome hindrance in his busy life.
‘You must wish me at Jericho,’ she said, and instantly wished the words unsaid.
‘My dear young lady, on the contrary. Much as I have an affection for my nephew and niece, the thought of overseeing their daily activities fills me with alarm. You are more than welcome in my house.’
He was smiling and his voice was kind, but she had the feeling that he was thinking about something else.
She was hungry and the food was delicious. Mrs Buller must be a cordon bleu cook: the parsnip soup with just a hint of garlic, the roast pheasant, followed by a treacle tart which melted in the mouth, were witnesses to that. Araminta, quite famished by now, did full justice to the lot, but when the professor suggested that they might have their coffee at the table, she excused herself on the grounds of tiredness. She bade him a cheerful goodnight and wished that she hadn’t seen the quick look of relief on his face; she was aware that she had hardly added to his evening’s enjoyment.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_d501ec50-4671-57d6-9ebf-1dc3cf973ca2)
ARAMINTA slept soundly. She was far too sensible to lie awake and speculate about the following day. No doubt it would have its problems, more easily faced after a good night’s sleep. Waking up to find a cheerful young woman with a tea-tray and the information that breakfast was in half an hour was a splendid start to it.
The knowledge that their uncle was at home and expecting to see them at breakfast got Jimmy and Gloria out of bed, dressed and downstairs, without any coaxing on Araminta’s part.
He was already at the breakfast-table and he looked up from reading his post to wish them good morning, but as Araminta came into the room behind them he got out of his chair, enquired politely if she had slept well, and invited her to take a seat at the table.
It was Gloria who asked, ‘Oh, is Araminta going to have her meals with us?’
He offered Araminta a dish of scrambled eggs. ‘Naturally Miss Smith will do so—why do you ask, Gloria?’ His glance was frosty. ‘She has sole charge of both of you while you are here, and be good enough to remember that. I am delighted to have you here, but you will have to fit into my household. Mutt is in the garden with Goldie and Neptune. Jimmy, you will make yourself responsible for him, won’t you? And you, Gloria, will do everything necessary for Tibs. She should be safe enough in the garden as long as you are with her. You will be going out this morning, I dare say?’ He glanced at Araminta, who nodded. ‘Will you take all three dogs with you? The park is only a short walk away. I should be home about five o’clock. We might take the dogs in the car up to Hampstead Heath and give them a good run. Miss Smith will be glad of an hour to herself, I have no doubt.’
He gathered up his post. ‘I’ll give myself a day off on Saturday,’ he told them. ‘Decide what you want to do and let me know.’
The pair of them munched in silence after he had gone, then Jimmy said, ‘We’re quite old enough to look after ourselves…’
‘Well, of course you are,’ said Araminta briskly, ‘but perhaps as you are your uncle’s guests it would be polite to do as he asks. When we’ve had breakfast I’ll go and ask Mrs Buller what time she serves lunch, while you two see to Mutt and Tibs.’
They muttered an answer and she finished her breakfast without haste, talking cheerfully about this and that, ignoring their unfriendly faces, and presently went down to the kitchen, introduced herself to Mrs Buller and sat down at the kitchen table at that lady’s request so that they might discuss the days ahead.
‘Professor Lister don’t come ‘ome for ‘is lunch, miss, just now and then, like.’ Mrs Buller beamed at her and Araminta beamed back at the cosy little woman. ‘Suppose we say one o’clock sharp and tea at four o’clock? Dinner’s at half-past seven when ‘e’s ‘ome— leastways when ‘e isn’t called away. ‘E entertains off and on, you might say, got a lot of friends but no one in particular, if you get my meaning—not a ladies’ man, more’s the pity. ‘E’d make a fine husband. Likes ‘is books…’ Mrs Buller shook her grey head. ‘Now, as to lunch, ‘ow about a nice cheese soufflé? And the children will want chips and I’ll do some baby carrots and a chocolate pudding…’
‘That sounds lovely. I hope we aren’t giving you a lot of extra trouble, Mrs Buller.’
‘Bless you, miss, of course not.’
‘I’ll let Buller know when we go out and where we are going, shall I?’
‘Now that sounds like good sense, miss.’
The morning went rather better than she had expected; the three of them went to the park with the dogs as she had suggested and, although Gloria and Jimmy made no effort to be friendly, at least they fell in with her carefully worded suggestions, couched in a friendly no-nonsense voice. They gave the dogs a good run and got back with just enough time to tidy themselves for lunch. Over the chocolate pudding Araminta broached her suggestion for the afternoon. ‘I don’t know this part of London very well,’ she observed casually. ‘I wondered if we got on a bus and went somewhere—another park, perhaps? We could look around and have a cup of tea, and then bus back in time for your uncle’s return.’
The idea went down well, but they weren’t going to let her have it all her own way.
‘I’d rather go to Richmond,’ said Jimmy.
‘Why not? Would you like to take Mutt?’
He gave her a surprised look and she said calmly, ‘Well, he’s small enough to be carried if he gets tired, isn’t he? Perhaps Tibs ought to have a few minutes in the garden before we go. I’ll go and tell Buller—I don’t expect Goldie and Neptune will need to go out again until we get back.’
The afternoon was a success; they sat overlooking the river, admired the Thames and the country beyond, and found a tea-room before getting a bus back. It had been an expensive outing, reflected Araminta, sitting on her bed counting the change in her purse, but worth every penny. Any minute now the professor would be home, and he would take the children and the dogs on the promised trip to Hampstead Heath…
When she went downstairs he was at home, sitting in his chair by the fire with his dogs at his feet. He got up as she went in, and she said quickly, ‘Oh, you’re home,’ and blushed because it had been a silly thing to say. ‘The children will be down in a few minutes; they’re tidying themselves for the evening.’
‘Sit down, Miss Smith. No difficulties?’
‘None, thank you, Professor.’
The children came then, and she sat quietly while they recounted their day to him. ‘But we’re still going out with you, aren’t we, Uncle?’ asked Gloria.
‘Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Go and get your coats; we’ll go now.’ When they had gone he said, ‘Let me know how much you paid out on my behalf, Miss Smith,’ and when she murmured vaguely, he said, ‘Now if you please.’
So she told him. ‘It’s rather a lot of money, but they did enjoy their tea.’
‘A small price to pay for their enjoyment. Have they seemed worried about their mother and father?’
‘They haven’t said anything to me, but I wouldn’t expect them to…’
The children came back then. ‘Isn’t Araminta coming with us?’ asked Gloria.
‘No—I believe Miss Smith may be glad of an hour or so to herself.’ He smiled kindly at her and she gave a grateful murmur. She wished that he would stop calling her Miss Smith, it highlighted her mousy dullness.
* * *
Day followed day, and Gloria and Jimmy showed no sign of liking her any better. True, they did what she asked them to do, fell in with her suggestions as to how to spend their days and treated her with politeness at any meal when their uncle was present. They had, for some reason, made up their minds not to like her, and in a way she could understand that; she was a stranger, wished on them at a moment’s notice and instantly to be forgotten the moment they returned home to their mother’s and Patty’s casual spoiling.
It was towards the end of the week when Professor Lister received a phone call from his sister. She had no idea when she would be coming home; her husband was still very ill and it was impossible for her to leave him. ‘I know how awkward it is for you to have the children,’ she told him. ‘Send them back in time for school—Patty should be back by now; she can look after them. That girl—what’s her name?—Araminta can take them back and hand them over.’
‘Don’t worry about them,’ he told her, ‘I’ll see that they get back home and settled in with Patty. I’m sorry Tom is still not fit, but stay as long as you need to—I’ll drive down whenever I can and keep an eye on the children.’
‘Bless you.’ Lydia Gault rang off and he put the phone down and went to sit in his armchair. He would have to make time to drive the children back on Saturday and Araminta Smith would have to go with them. He could bring her back that same day and she could return home…
He got up presently and went to tell the three of them, who were playing a rather rowdy game of Monopoly in the sitting-room.
His news was received with mixed feelings by the children. They were troubled that their father was still ill and their mother wouldn’t be coming home for a time; on the other hand they were pleased at the idea of going home again and returning to school and the loving care of Patty, who let them do exactly what they wanted. The professor watched their faces with a wry smile before he turned to Araminta.
‘You will be kind enough to return with the children?’ The question was a statement, politely put. ‘I will drive you back in the evening.’
She agreed; she had telephoned Alice during the week and told her that she would be back at the weekend, listening patiently to the flood of complaints before putting the receiver down.
‘I’ll phone Patty,’ said the professor. ‘She’s probably back by now—if not, I’ll phone her at home.’
An urgent call from the hospital prevented him from doing that; it was only after his ward round that he remembered to do it. He pushed aside the notes he was writing in Theatre Sister’s office and picked up the phone. There was no reply from his sister’s home, but he had Patty’s home number with him. He phoned that, waiting patiently while it rang.
Patty’s soft Scottish voice said, ‘Hello?’
He said at once, ‘Patty? Jason Lister here. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Mrs Gault. She won’t be able to return at present—Mr Gault isn’t so well. I’ll bring the children back on Saturday—so could you come back as soon as you can and open up the house? I know it’s short notice, but perhaps you could take the night sleeper or fly back to Bristol or Exeter. Take a car, and don’t spare the expense. I’ll see to that——’
‘Professor Lister, I can’t—my mother’s desperately ill. I cannot leave her—you must understand that—I was going to phone Mrs Gault when she got back. What is to be done?’
‘Don’t worry, Patty, we’ll brush through. The young lady who has been looking after Jimmy and Gloria is still with us. I’ll get her to go back with them and stay until either you or Mrs Gault get back. You stay and look after your mother.’
‘You’re sure, sir? I’ll come the moment I can.’
‘Stay as long as you need to,’ he told her, ‘and let me know how you get on.’ He hung up; it was providential that Araminta Smith was still with them. He would see her as soon as he got home.
Which was late that evening. The children were in bed and Araminta was sitting uneasily in the drawing-room when he got back. She didn’t much like sitting there on her own but Buller had told her that the professor wanted her to make use of the room whenever she wished. One more day, she was thinking, then back home to a disgruntled Alice and the careless affection of her father, eager to know how much she had earned. The money had been hard-earned too; true, she had lived in the lap of luxury in this lovely house, but not for one moment had the children shown her any sign of friendliness.
As for Professor Lister, he treated her with an impersonal politeness which held no more warmth than when they had first met.
She got to her feet as he came in, the dogs at his heels. Her ‘Good evening, Professor Lister,’ was quietly said. ‘I was just going to bed. You must be tired…’
‘Yes, but please don’t go for a moment. I have something to say to you.’
She sat down again and he sat in his chair opposite to her. She looked at his tired face. ‘You should go to your bed,’ she told him in her matter-of-fact way, ‘but perhaps you are hungry too. Shall I go and see if Mrs Buller could warm up some soup?’
‘I believe Buller has the matter in hand, but it is kind of you to bother. Perhaps you will have a drink with me first?’
He got up and poured her a glass of sherry and gave himself some whisky. ‘We have a problem,’ he told her, ‘and I must rely on you to solve it.’
She listened without interruption, and when he had finished she said simply, ‘How very unfortunate. Of course I will do as you ask, only I must go home and get some clothes—I only brought enough for a week with me.’
‘Certainly. I’ll drive you home tomorrow—I should be home round about four o’clock. That will give you time to pack whatever you need to take there and decide what you wish to take with you. I have no idea how long you may need to stay, but I would suggest that you think in terms of two weeks.’ He saw the doubt in her face. ‘That presents difficulties? Your family?’
‘My sister isn’t very used to running the house.’
‘She is alone?’
‘No. No—but my father is away all day.’ She would have stopped there but the faint enquiry in his face forced her to go on. ‘She’s delicate.’
He said kindly, ‘Well, suppose we go to your home and see what she says; if necessary I could arrange for her to have some help. May I ask in what way your sister is delicate?’
‘Well, the doctor told her she would have to take things easy.’
‘This was recent, this advice?’
Araminta wrinkled her forehead in thought. ‘Well, no—about two years ago.’
‘Has she been taking things easy since then? Does she see her doctor regularly?’
‘Not since then.’ Araminta glanced at him as she said it, and surprised a look on his face; she wasn’t sure what the look was because it had gone at once. She must have imagined it.
The children were upset, looking at her as though it were all her fault. She was thankful when the professor came home the next afternoon, his calm, logical acceptance of the situation allowing them to take a more cheerful view of it.
‘I’ll phone each evening,’ he promised them, ‘and if I can manage it I’ll come down at the weekend, and as soon as I have any news I’ll let you know. I know you both want to help your mother and father, and the best way of doing that is to give them no cause to worry about you. Will you get your things packed up while I take Miss Smith to her home to get what she needs? We’ll go after breakfast tomorrow—that will give us time to do any shopping and air the house. When your mother and father are back home, I promise we’ll all have a marvellous celebration.’
He had nothing to say as he drove Araminta home; he wasn’t a talkative man and his well-ordered life had been turned upside-down and, even though the three of them would be gone, he would still need to keep an eye on them from a distance, and that over and above his own busy life.
The contrast between his handsome house and her own home was cruel, but she didn’t allow it to bother her. He stopped before its front door and she prepared to get out. She stopped halfway. ‘I shall be about half an hour,’ she told him. ‘Would you like to come in, or perhaps you would rather come back?’
His mouth twitched. ‘I’ll come in, if I may.’ It would be interesting to see how this unassuming girl, who had fitted into the quiet luxury of his home with unself-conscious naturalness, behaved in her own house. Besides, he had a wish to meet the delicate sister. As plain as her sister? he wondered.
Araminta put her key in the lock and opened the door, and stood aside to allow him to pass her into the narrow hall. It was a bit of a squeeze, for he was so very large, but she said nothing, only called softly, ‘Alice? Alice, I’m back…’
Alice’s voice came from the kitchen. ‘And about time too, I’m sick of all this beastly housework…’ Her voice got louder as she opened the door wider and came through, and then changed miraculously as she saw Professor Lister. ‘Oh, we weren’t expecting you…’ Her cross face became wreathed in smiles.
‘This is Professor Lister, Alice. My sister, Professor. Alice, I shall be away for another week or ten days. I’ve come to collect some more clothes. I’ve brought my case with me…’
The professor had shaken hands and smiled but not spoken; now he said, ‘Ah, yes, I’ll fetch it in for you.’ And he went out to the car again.
Alice clutched Araminta’s arm. ‘Why didn’t you warn me? I’d have had my hair done and put on a decent dress. He’s quite something.’ She added peevishly, ‘The house is in a mess…’
‘I doubt if he notices,’ said Araminta prosaically. ‘He’s a bit absent-minded.’
Alice tossed her head. ‘I’ll make him notice me…’ She turned to smile at him as he came back into the house. ‘You run along, dear,’ she said sweetly to Araminta. ‘I daresay Professor Lister would like a cup of coffee.’
Araminta climbed the stairs to her room and set about the business of finding fresh clothes, stout shoes and an all-enveloping overall, since it seemed likely that she would be expected to do the housework as well as keep an eye on Jimmy and Gloria. That done, she took a pile of undies and blouses down to the kitchen, stuffed them into the washing-machine and switched it on. Alice wasn’t likely to iron them, but at least they would be clean when she got back. She could hear voices in the sitting-room, and Alice’s laugh, as she went back upstairs to collect her writing-case and choose a book to take with her. She thought that she might need soothing by bedtime each day, and ran her hand along the row of books by her bed. She chose Vanity Fair and Thackeray’s Ballads and Songs. She hesitated, her small, nicely kept hand hovering over Jane Eyre, but there wasn’t room for it in her case. She closed the case, carried it downstairs, and went into the sitting-room. The professor was sitting in one of the shabby armchairs by the fireplace and he got up as she went in. Alice was sitting on the old-fashioned sofa. She looked prettier than ever, thought Araminta without envy, but it was a pity that the room was so untidy, more than untidy, grubby. Why did Alice look so cross, anyway?
She looked quickly at the professor, but he looked as he always did, pleasant and at the same time unconcerned, as though his mind were elsewhere. She could hardly blame him for that; she longed to get a duster and tidy up a bit. All the same, Alice was surely pretty enough to override her surroundings—something must have gone wrong…
‘I’m ready, Professor,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as possible when I’ll be coming home,’ she told her sister, and was rewarded by a pouting face.
‘I suppose I’ll have to manage. Lucky you, it’ll be as good as a holiday.’
Alice got up and offered a hand to Professor Lister, looking at him in a little-girl-lost manner which Araminta found irritating, although probably, being a man, he liked it. He showed no signs of either liking or disliking it; she had never met a man who concealed his feelings so completely.
‘I’m sure you must be relieved to know that, after all this time, whatever it was your doctor diagnosed has apparently cured itself. I must urge you to go and have a check-up. It isn’t for me to say, but I feel sure that you have little reason to fear for your health.’ He shook her hand firmly and stood aside while Araminta kissed her sister’s cheek, but Alice was still peevish. She went over to the door with them and wished them a cold goodbye as they got into the car, shutting the door before they had driven away.
Araminta peeped at her companion’s profile; he looked stern.
‘As I said it is, of course, not for me to say, but I believe that your sister is in excellent health. I suggested that she should see her doctor so that he might reassure her. If she had needed medical care when she first went to him he would have advised her to see him regularly.’
‘He told her that she had to take things easily.’
‘But not for two years or more.’
‘It’s very kind of you to concern yourself, Professor Lister,’ said Araminta frostily, ‘but perhaps…’ She paused, not quite sure how to put it. ‘You’re a surgeon,’ she pointed out.
‘I am also a doctor of medicine,’ he told her blandly. ‘Have you all that you require for the next week or so?’
She wondered if she had been rude. ‘Yes, thank you. I’m sorry if I was rude; I didn’t mean to be.’
‘It is of no consequence. Indeed, I prefer outspokenness to mealy-mouthed deception.’
They were almost back at his house. ‘We shall leave directly after breakfast,’ he observed, with the cool courtesy which she found so daunting. ‘Will you see that the children are ready by nine o’clock—and the animals, of course?’ He drew up before his door and got out and opened her door for her. ‘I expect you would like an hour or so in which to pack for yourself—I’ll take the children out with the dogs.’
He stood in the hall looking down at her, unsmiling, while Buller fetched her bag from the car. He must find all this a most frightful nuisance, she reflected, his daysturned upside-down and, even if he’s fond of the children, he doesn’t like me overmuch. A sudden wish to be as pretty as Alice swam into her head; it was the impersonal indifference which she found so hard to bear.
She thanked him in her quiet way, and went upstairs and began to pack her things before going to see if Jimmy and Gloria had made a start on theirs. They hadn’t, and it would be too late by the time they got back and had had dinner; getting them up in the morning would be bad enough. She fetched their cases and began to pack for them as well.
The professor went to his study after dinner and Araminta, mindful of his placid, ‘We shall leave directly after breakfast. Will you see that the children are ready by nine o’clock,’ finished the packing, persuaded the children to go to their beds and went to her room, intent on a long hot bath and washing her hair, but she had got no further than taking the pins out when there was a tap on the door. There was Buller with a request that she would go at once to the study as the professor had been called away and wished to see her before he went.
‘He’ll have to wait while I get my hair up,’ said Araminta.
‘If I might venture to say so, miss, the professor is anxious to be gone—an urgent matter at the hospital, I believe. Could you not tie it back or plait it?’
‘Well, all right, I expect I’d better.’ She began with quick fingers to weave a tidy rope of hair over one shoulder; it hung almost to her waist, thick and mousy, and she was braiding the last inch or so when Buller knocked on the study door and held it open for her.
The professor was stuffing papers into his bag. He looked up as she went in and, if he noticed the hair, he made no comment.
‘Miss Smith, I have to return to the hospital, and I am not sure when I shall get back. There may not be time to discuss anything at our leisure before we leave. You will need money for household expenses—it is in this envelope, together with the telephone numbers you might need in an emergency. You will not hesitate to get in touch with me should you judge it necessary, or if you need more money. Does the agency pay you?’
‘Yes, when I’ve finished the job.’
‘You have enough money for yourself?’
She had very little, but she wasn’t going to say so. ‘Quite enough, thank you, Professor Lister.’ She had spoken quickly and he gazed at her sharply. He didn’t say anything, though, only nodded and gave her the envelope. ‘I’ll keep an account of what I spend,’ she assured him.
‘If you wish to do so.’ He sounded uninterested. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Breakfast at eight o’clock.’ He went to open the door for her and, as she went past, he said softly, ‘I like the hair. Why do you bundle it up out of sight?’
Araminta was annoyed to find herself blushing. ‘It gets in the way,’ she said and added, for no reason at all, ‘I was going to wash it.’
She slid past him and away across the hall and up the staircase; halfway up she remembered that she hadn’t wished him goodnight.
By some miracle Araminta managed to get the children and the animals ready and down to breakfast by eight o’clock. There was no sign of their uncle, and Jimmy was quick to point out that she need not have chivvied them into such haste, but he had scarcely finished his grumbling when Professor Lister came in. He was wearing casual clothes and greeted them in his usual manner, but he looked tired, and Araminta wondered if he had been up half the night. She had the good sense not to ask, though, but ate her breakfast, saw to it that Jimmy and Gloria ate theirs, and then excused the three of them so that the animals could have last-minute attention. Obedient to his wish, she presented her small party at nine o’clock precisely in the hall. The cases had already been brought down and Buller had put them in the boot. Goldie and Neptune were there too, and the professor began to load the Rolls with its passengers.
‘You will sit in front with me, Miss Smith,’ he observed. ‘If you will have Tibs and his basket on your knee, Mutt can sit on Jimmy, and Goldie and Neptune can sit on the floor.’
If they felt rebellious the children didn’t say so, but got into the car and settled down with room to spare, leaving Araminta to settle herself in the comfort of the front seat.
Beyond enquiring as to everyone’s comfort, the professor had little to say, and Araminta, guessing that he was tired, kept silent. The children sounded happy enough and the animals were giving no trouble; she sat back and allowed her thoughts to wander.
They didn’t wander far. She was very conscious of the professor’s vast silent bulk beside her; if he had a private life—friends, girlfriends, a woman he loved—there had been no sign of them during the week; as far as she had seen, his days were wholly occupied by his work. He must have a private life, she thought. I dare say he’s tucked it out of sight while we’ve been living in his house. She began to think about the kind of woman he might love. Beautiful, of course, exquisitely dressed, amusing and witty, knowing just how to soothe him when he got home from a busy day at the hospital…
She looked out of her window and saw that they were well away from London; the A303 wasn’t far off. He wasn’t wasting time.
She turned to see if everything was as it should be on the back seat and, since it was, settled back again.
‘Comfortable?’ asked the professor.
‘Yes, thank you. Have you been up all night?’
He laughed a little. ‘Am I driving so badly? Not all night; I got home just after two o’clock.’
‘You would have time for a nap before you have to return.’
‘I’m flattered by your concern, Miss Smith, but I am quite rested.’
Snubbed, thought Araminta, and looked out of the window again.
Halfway down the A303 he stopped at a Happy Eater, and everyone piled out except Tibs, asleep in her basket. The dogs on their leads were walked by Jimmy and his uncle while Araminta and Gloria went inside, in a hurry to get to the ladies’, and then to find a table. They were joined shortly by Jimmy and the professor, who ordered coffee for all of them and a plate of buns. The coffee was hot and the children wolfed the buns as though they were starving, but no one wasted time in casual talk. In ten minutes they were back in the car and on their way. Tisbury wasn’t far; Professor Lister took a left-hand turning into a side road and they were at once surrounded by rural Wiltshire. There was only one village on their way, Chilmark, then they were back running between high hedges and scattered farms. Araminta gave an appreciative sniff and the professor observed, ‘Restful, isn’t it? When we arrive I shall leave you to open up the house, make the beds and so on. I’ll take the children into the village—you’ll need bread and milk and so on, won’t you?’
‘Yes, do you want a list? I can take a quick look in the fridge and the freezer.’
‘That would help. Do you feel up to cooking a meal?’
‘Yes, of course.’
They lapsed into silence, but this time it seemed to her that the silence was friendly.
The children were glad to be home. They rushed inside as soon as the professor had unlocked the door and then, at his placid request, carried the bags indoors and upstairs. That done, he said, ‘If you’ll see to Tibs, Gloria, Jimmy can see to the dogs while Miss Smith and I make a list of the food we’ll need. We’ll go down to the village and do the shopping while she gets the place aired.’
Whatever made me think that he was absent-minded? reflected Araminta, busily writing a list of the food to be bought.
Once they were out of the house, leaving her with Tibs for company, she set about opening the windows, looking into the cupboards and peering into drawers. The linencupboard was nicely filled; she took the bedlinen off the beds and filled the washing-machine. The beds could be made up later. She laid the table for lunch, peeled the potatoes she found in the garden shed, and nipped round with a duster—not ideal, but all she had time for.
They came back laden. ‘Sausages,’ said the professor, emptying plastic bags all over the table, ‘spring greens, carrots and turnips. Apples, oranges and lettuces. Jimmy has the rest and Gloria went to the baker’s. We’ll go into the garden while you get the lunch—do you want a hand?’
‘No, thanks.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Half an hour?’
All the same he stowed away the butter, milk and cheese before he went into the garden, the dogs trailing after him.
Araminta was a good cook: the sausages, grilled to a golden brown, lay on a mound of creamed potatoes, she had glazed the carrots with sugar and butter, and the spring greens, chopped fine, added a note of colour. Everything was eaten, as were the cheese and biscuits which followed. A pot of coffee washed everything down nicely and the professor sat back with a sigh.
‘A delicious meal, Miss Smith,’ he observed. ‘We’ll wash up while you do whatever you want to do. Gloria, don’t forget to feed that cat of yours, and what about the dogs?’
Araminta left them to it, and sped upstairs to make beds, put out towels and tidy the rooms. There would be several loads of washing, but she could iron all day, if necessary, when the children had gone back to school.
When she got back to the kitchen everything had been tidily put away and she found the three of them in the hall by the open door.
‘There you are,’ said Professor Lister. ‘I’m going back now—I’ll phone you this evening and, if you need help or advice, don’t hesitate to ring me. I’ll do my best to come down.’
He nodded to her, said goodbye to Jimmy and Gloria, got into his car with the dogs and drove away. The three of them stood watching the car disappearing down the drive and into the lane, and even when it was out of sight they still stood there.
It was Araminta who said briskly, ‘I expect you’ve heaps of things you want to do, but first will you let me have all your washing? I dare say there are some things you’ll need for school on Monday.’
‘Patty usually…’ began Gloria, and thought better of it. ‘All right, but then I want to go and see Jean down at the Rectory.’
‘Why not?’ agreed Araminta cheerfully. ‘But please both be here for tea. Half-past four. We can discuss supper then.’
She was surprised that they didn’t demur, but fetched their washing, put Mutt on his lead, and went off together—which gave her time to check the cupboards again, pick some flowers from the garden and unpack her own things; all the while, Professor Lister was never far from her thoughts.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fcf67ac4-84aa-589a-af03-ff6d04162b20)
ARAMINTA went to bed that night thankful that the day had gone so well. The children had returned for their tea and afterwards had helped her wash up, albeit grudgingly. They were still unfriendly but at least they did what she asked them to do with only a modicum of grumbling. The professor had telephoned as he had promised, a brief conversation undertaken against a background of voices—women’s voices as well as men’s. Probably he was relaxing with his friends; she pictured him in his lovely house, entertaining them. A mistake, of course. He was in Theatre Sister’s office, drinking coffee after operating…
At breakfast the next morning Jimmy said reluctantly, ‘Uncle Jason said we were to take you to church with us.’
‘Why, thank you, Jimmy, I shall be glad to go. The morning service?’
‘Yes—who’s going to cook our dinner?’
‘I shall. It can cook in the oven while we are away. What do you do with Mutt?’
‘Shut him in the house; he doesn’t mind as long as Tibs is there too.’
So they went to church, and when they got back the steak and kidney pie she had made from the contents of the freezer the night before was nicely cooked. She left it warm in the oven while the potatoes and the greens cooked. They had brought a carton of ice-cream back with them on the previous day; she scooped it out into three dishes, embellished it with some chocolate sauce she had found, and put it back in the freezer. Everything was ready by the time the children had fed Mutt and Tibs.
They both ate everything she put before them, although they didn’t say if they liked it, and once they had finished they told her that they were going over to a friend’s house. ‘We’ll probably stay for tea,’ said Gloria airily.
‘Why not? But please tell me where you are going, in case I should want you rather urgently.’ And at their blank stares she added gently, ‘Your mother might telephone, or your uncle, and do give me a ring if you’re staying for tea, will you? Do you want to take Mutt?’
‘Of course, and I wish you wouldn’t make a fuss,’ said Jimmy rudely.
‘Well, of course I could wash my hands of the pair of you,’ observed Araminta cheerfully, ‘but your uncle asked me to be here until someone gets back and I said that I would. We’ll all have to make the best of it, won’t we?’ She began to gather up the plates. ‘Write it on the pad over there, will you, and please put the phone number. Tea at half-past four, if you decide to come home.’
She was prepared for them to ignore her request, and it was an agreeable surprise when Gloria phoned to say that they were staying for tea and would be home in time for supper. It gave her a chance to sit down for a bit with a pot of tea and a plate of scones while she jotted down menus for the week ahead.
It was while she was getting the supper that she realised that there was a problem she hadn’t thought of—Mrs Gault had driven the children to their schools each day and either she or Patty had fetched them back. There was a car in the garage but that wouldn’t be of much use since she couldn’t drive. There would be a school bus, of course, but probably that served the comprehensive school and the other state schools in Salisbury. Gloria was at a private girls’ school a few miles from Tisbury, and Jimmy at a minor public school lying in the other direction. Not far in a car, but they could be at the North Pole if there was no transport. She sat and wrestled with the problem for some time, and reluctantly decided to wait until the children came back to see if between them they could think of a way out of their dilemma.
Hire a car? she wondered. But would Professor Lister agree to that? Perhaps she could phone him and ask his advice.
She had no need to do so, for he phoned within the next half-hour.
Her, ‘Hello,’ was breathless with relief.
He said at once, ‘Problems? You sound quietly desperate.’
‘I am.’ She explained with commendable brevity.
‘I should have thought of that. Leave it with me. My sister has several friends in the village. I believe the doctor’s sons go to Jimmy’s school—he can give him a lift and drop Gloria off on his way. I’m sure that he will help. I’ll ring you back, so don’t worry.’ He rang off with a quick goodbye and she went back to her cooking. It was all very well to tell her not to worry, but she wouldn’t feel easy until he phoned again.
Which he did, shortly before the children came home. ‘Mrs Sloane—Dr Sloane’s wife—will collect Jimmy and Gloria at eight o’clock and bring them back after school.’
Araminta thanked him. ‘I’m sorry I had to bother you.’
He said coolly, ‘It was merely a question of picking up the telephone, Miss Smith.’ His goodbye sounded like an afterthought.
As they sat down to supper presently, Jimmy said, ‘We shan’t be able to go to school—Mother always took us in the car—or Patty. I don’t suppose you can drive a car.’
‘No, I can’t. Mrs Sloane is calling for you both each day and will give you a lift back in the afternoon. Your uncle has arranged it.’ She smiled at him. ‘Eight o’clock at the gate, so we’d better have everything ready before you go to bed. Do you take anything with you? Lunch or a snack?’
Gloria said prissily, ‘We don’t go to state schools, Araminta.’
A remark Araminta let pass. ‘What about Mutt and Tibs? Will you let me know if they have to be fed and when—and does Mutt go for a walk during the day?’
‘If you take him on his lead, and he has a biscuit at lunchtime.’
‘Tibs has a meal then too,’ said Gloria. ‘Of course, you don’t belong here so she might run away—then it’ll be your fault.’
Araminta reminded herself silently that this was a job and she was being paid for it. She said equably, ‘Oh, I like cats, but if you don’t like to leave her in my care perhaps we could find a good cattery where she would be safe.’
Jimmy frowned at his sister. ‘Tibs will be OK—you’re being a bit silly.’
‘And rude,’ added Araminta mildly.
They weren’t an easy pair to handle; they loitered over their breakfast, had a last-minute hunt for school-books, and their rooms, when she went upstairs to make the beds, were in a state of chaos. ‘Patty must be an angel,’ observed Araminta to Tibs, who was comfortably snoozing on Gloria’s bed. At least she had the house to herself while she vacuumed and dusted, hung the washing on the line at the bottom of the garden and gave the kitchen a good clean. Jimmy had said something about a Mrs Pretty, who came twice a week, but perhaps Mrs Gault had told her not to come while she was away. Araminta, armed with a shopping-basket and the household purse and with Mutt on his lead, took herself off to the village to buy lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes. The children wanted baked beans for their supper; she intended to add bubble-and-squeak and a small salad. As for their demands for Coca-Cola, she had different ideas. Without conceit she knew that her home-made lemonade was perfection itself. She added lemons to her basket at the village stores and replied suitably to the proprietor’s questions. Mr Moody was stout and bald and good-natured, and he liked a chat.
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