by Betty Neels
She paid Jacob and the plumber and sat down to count her money. There was still some over without touching the fifty thousand in the bank. In a week or two, once they were settled in and she had arranged Peter's school, she would see if Jacob could
turn the decrepit old shed halfway down the garden into something watertight where she could start her flower shop. Life was full of possibilities—Trottie was happy renewing old acquaintances in the village, and Peter was in the seventh heaven, and as for herself—she was happy too. She found herself wishing she could tell Mr van Linssen just how happy she was.
A wish which was to be granted.
Mr van Linssen, back home again, immersed himself immediately in his work, spending long hours in the operating theatre, taking over Outpatients from his registrar, catching up with his private patients at his consulting-rooms. It was only when he had dealt satisfactorily with all these things that he permitted himself to think about Eulalia. She would have moved by now, of course. He phoned Mr Willett and was told that, yes, Eulalia had taken up residence at Ivy Cottage. She would be going to see Mr Willett someday next week. 'She has, I hear, made the place very attractive, knows exactly what she wants and goes after it. Very like her grandmother,' added Mr Willett drily.
Ursula, peevish at Mr van Linssen's determination to keep his handsome nose to the grindstone, had taken herself off with friends to the south of France, so he felt free to plan a day's outing to Brokenwell. He had to explain to Peter why he hadn't answered his letter, besides that he had a present for him.
It was a fine morning when he set out, and the traffic was heavy since it was a Saturday; all the same, he drew up at Ivy Cottage soon after ten o'clock. Peter, hanging out of his bedroom window, saw him at once and raced downstairs. 'Aunt Lally, he's here, I knew he'd come...' He opened the cottage door and flung himself at Mr van Linssen, which gave Eulalia time to peer into the little looking-glass in the kitchen and deplore her shining nose and untidy head of curls, but there was no time to do more than switch off the iron and go to meet him.
Her, 'Good-morning, Mr van Linssen,' was pleasantly friendly and was answered by his cheerful,
`Hello, Eulalia,' and a quick kiss on her cheek.
She ignored that, aware that her heart was thumping far too loudly. 'How did you know where we were?'
`Your landlord gave me the forwarding address.' He was a truthful man, but the lie slipped off his tongue without trouble; if he told the truth he would involve Mr Willett, who would never forgive him.
`Well, now you're here,' said Eulalia in a cool voice, 'will you have a cup of coffee? Trottie's shopping—she will be back presently and will be glad to see you.' She went a little pink at his amused look, and added clumsily, 'Well, we are all glad to see you. Do come in.'
`Thank you, but first I have something for Peter.' He went back to the car, and when he turned round there was a small puppy under his arm.
CHAPTER FIVE
`I HAD your letter, Peter and thank you for it. I had to go to Holland for a while and had no chance to answer it, and when I got back I had rather a lot of work to do. I hope this little fellow will recompense you for your disappointment.'
`A puppy,' shouted Peter. 'For me? For my very own? I can keep him?'
Mr van Linssen put the little creature into Peter's arms. 'If Eulalia will allow you to keep him, he's yours.'
The puppy peered from under his arm, his round eyes wary. He was of no known breed, with large ears and a rough black coat with a white shirt-front. Eulalia reflected that Mr van Linssen hadn't put a foot wrong; someone less understanding might have turned up with a pedigree pup, but he had known just the kind of dog a small boy would want. She said quietly, 'Of course Peter may have him, it's one of his dreams come true. He's a darling little dog.'
She watched the small creature in Peter's arms, wriggling a little and then licking the small hand which held him. 'He likes me,' said Peter in a satisfied voice. 'Thank you very much, Mr van Linssen,
he's just exactly what I would have chosen. Has he got a name?'
`Not yet, that's for you to decide, isn't it? I've brought his basket with me, and there's a little book telling you how to feed him and take care of him...'
He was still standing at the door, and Eulalia said quickly, `Do please come in.'
`Thank you, and coffee would be delightful. I'll get the basket first, shall I?'
He came back from the car with it, carrying a box too. 'I wasn't sure whether you could get the right food, so I brought some with me.'
He followed her into the cottage with Peter keeping close, cuddling the puppy.
Trottie, returning from her shopping trip, came up behind them.
`Well, this is a lovely surprise. Sit yourself down, love—coffee's soon ready, and one of my cakes. Come far, have you?'
He bent to kiss her cheek. 'What a lovely warm welcome,' he observed, and Eulalia blushed. She had been lacking in manners; he must think her rude.
She said on an impulse, 'I'm sorry I wasn't more welcoming, Mr van Linssen, I—I was surprised.'
Trottie had gone to fetch the coffee and Peter had gone into the garden with the puppy. Mr van Linssen loomed over her. 'Oh, good—I thought for a moment that your strong feelings had got the better of you and you were going to show me the door.'
`That's absurd, besides, you brought the puppy and made Peter so happy.'
He smiled a little. 'And you, Eulalia, are you happy?' He looked around the comfortable little room. 'This is a charming little cottage, a far cry from Cromwell Road. Did you win the pools? The letter I had from Peter left me rather in the dark.'
She was very conscious of his nearness. 'It seems that I had a great-uncle in Australia, who left me the cottage and quite a lot of money—there isn't anyone else in the family, you see. I'd never heard of him, but he has my eternal thanks.' She drew rather a defiant breath. 'I'm going to open a shop—a flower shop.'
`What a splendid idea. Here in the village?'
She nodded. Not just yet, of course, but I'll have to make a living of some sort later on. There are any number of large houses scattered around, if I could get them interested, and there'll be weddings and funerals.'
He didn't say what he thought about her plans but bent and kissed her cheek very gently. 'I'm so glad you have had good luck for a change.' He moved away from her and added lightly, 'You don't mind me calling? I had to put matters right with Peter, but I promise you I won't bother you again.'
Before she could answer that, Trottie came in with the coffee. 'You'll stop for lunch,' she told him, and didn't look at Eulalia. 'Cold chicken and a salad and jacket potatoes, and an apple pie for afters.'
`Delicious. Thank you, Miss Trott, I should like that very much. And how do you like this village?'
`Bless you, love, I was born here, know every stick and stone in it, not to mention them as lives here.'
`Indeed?' He turned an enquiring face to Eulalia. `So that is why you decided to come and live here. I suppose you could have sold the cottage and found something else.'
She handed him a slice of cake on a plate. 'As a matter of fact, I lived here too,' she told him. Her manner dared him to ask more questions.
He looked politely surprised. 'Well, well, that must be delightful for you. The village is well away from the main roads, isn't it?'
They discussed the surrounding countryside for a while until he said, 'May I find Peter and talk to him about the puppy? He's a bright little boy, but I'd better explain feeding times and so on.'
He took himself off to where Peter sat with his new companion, eating cake, sharing the slice between them. The garden was still unkempt and overgrown, but Peter had found an old wooden bench and Mr van Linssen sat down beside him. The bench groaned under his weight but didn't collapse, and the pair of them stayed there until Trottie called them in for their lunch.
`Wash your hands,' she warned them. 'There's our nice bathroom so you've no excuse.'
Mr van Linsse
n, meekly doing as he was told,
looked around him. It was a very basic new bathroom, he considered, but Eulalia seemed to be managing very well. The cottage was repaired and painted but she hadn't wasted money on unnecessary furbishing. He wasn't sure about her plans for a flower shop, but it would be best not to mention it at the moment—he was, after all, supposed to have only a passing interest, and when he had said that he wouldn't come to see her again she hadn't replied...
He left shortly after their meal, saying all the right things to Trottie and kissing her elderly cheek, shaking hands with Peter and bidding Eulalia a coolly friendly goodbye which left her in no doubt about not seeing him again. Which was exactly what he had intended...
Watching the Bentley's elegant rear disappearing down the street, she reflected that he couldn't have made himself more plain; this had been by way of a farewell visit for Peter's sake. Certainly he had spent a good deal of time with the little boy, sitting out there in the garden. She wondered what they had talked about.
She went back into the cottage and helped with the washing-up, and then wandered into the garden where Peter was playing with the puppy.
`I must think of a name,' said Peter, 'and when I have I shall write and tell Mr van Linssen about it.'
`Well, dear...' began Eulalia, not quite sure how to go on.
`Don't you like him?'
`Yes, yes, of course I do, but I think he brought you the puppy as a kind of goodbye present, don't you?'
He shook his head. 'He's my friend.'
`That's nice—to have a friend, I mean. You must think of a really good name. I'll think, too, while I do a bit of gardening.'
She wasn't thinking about names as she toiled away at clearing the fruit-bushes, though, she was remembering Mr van Linssen's casual goodbye, and why she should mind that he had been so casual she didn't know. She attacked a gooseberry-bush quite fiercely, and told herself not to waste time thinking about someone who didn't matter at all when there were so many other important matters to decide upon.
They all went to church on Sunday morning, leaving the puppy happily asleep in his basket in the kitchen, and because there was a new rector since Eulalia had lived there with her grandmother, and several people in the congregation wanted to speak to her, their progress was slow as they left after the service. Peter said nothing, but the hand she was holding squeezed hers once or twice, just to remind her that he wanted to get back to his new companion, so she made the excuse that she had to get back to cook the Sunday dinner and left Trottie happily renewing old acquaintances.
`I've thought of a name,' said Peter as they reached the cottage. 'Charlie.'
`Just right,' declared Eulalia. 'Put on your sandals, dear, and take him into the garden and tell him.'
So Charlie became one of the family, and she thought of Mr van Linssen every time she looked at him.
It was during the following week that Jacob arrived with a ginger kitten tucked inside his jersey. `A little lady,' he pointed out. 'As sweet a nature as you'd wish for. I heard as how you'd got a pup, so they'll be friends, like.'
Peter was over the moon. 'Aunt Lally,' he said excitedly, 'now we've got all we wanted, haven't we? Well, almost—there's still the rabbit and, of course, I would like you to have a big Bentley motor car like Mr van Linssen.'
`I'll settle for the rabbit,' declared Eulalia, not altogether truthfully.
After suitable correspondence, she took him to the new school, enrolled him for the autumn term and set about getting his uniform. That meant two or three trips to Cirencester with a Peter impatient to get back to his pets. He had named the kitten Blossom, and there was no denying the fact that he was now a very happy and contented small boy.
`It is such a pity that I shall never be able to thank that great-uncle,' she told Trottie one day. 'Just think, Trottie, we might still have been in Cromwell Road trying to find somewhere to live and me hunting for work. Which reminds me, once we've got
Peter settled at school I must start thinking about the shop. You still think it's a good idea?'
Trottie nodded. 'It's worth a try. Start in a small way and see how it goes. You'll have to give it a year, and if it's paying its way by then you can open up a bit.'
Eulalia gave her a hug. `Trottie, what would we do without you?' She stretched her arms open wide. `Oh, isn't life just wonderful?'
`Never better, Miss Lally. All we want now is for some nice young man to come along and sweep you off your feet.'
`He'd need plenty of strength! I'm what is politely known as generously built, Trottie, and he'd have to be someone special, for he'd have to take Peter and you as well as me, not to mention Charlie and Blossom.' She sighed. 'He'd be hard to find.'
`That's as may be, but you ought to have a nice young man to take you out a bit, Miss Lally.'
`I'm very happy,' said Eulalia, and almost believed it. She had no right to be otherwise; everything she had wished for had come true, so why should she hanker after seeing Mr van Linssen again? Such a hopeless wish it was best forgotten at once.
She went into the garden and went on with clearing the fruit-bushes. With luck, they would have soft fruit enough next year, and very soon they could pick the apples. The plums were ripe, too; they were eat-
ing them every day and Trottie was in her element turning them into jam.
`I have no reason to feel the least bit unhappy,' said Eulalia to Charlie, who was helping her with the digging after his own fashion.
Most of the younger men and women Eulalia had known when she had lived with her grandmother were either married or had left home, but there were still one or two left. Once Peter was going to school she would accept their invitations for coffee or a game of tennis or supper. It would be very pleasant to renew old friendships, she reflected, and since Peter would have his lunch at school he would be away all day during the week. The rector's small son was already at the school, and the rector had suggested that he could give Peter a lift there and back when he took his own son, an offer which she had thankfully accepted.
By the time Peter's school started the autumn term, they had settled into a pleasant routine. Trottie, back in her own village, was shedding the years, going off to the village shops, cooking and bottling and making jam from the blackberries Eulalia and Peter had picked to go with the apples. As for Peter, he had filled out nicely, made friends in the village, and spent happy hours training Charlie and playing with Blossom. He was looking forward to school, too, his one regret that he couldn't take his pets with him.
`Well, dear,' said Eulalia cheerfully, 'you will be here to give them their breakfasts in the morning and
take Charlie into the garden, and back here to give them their supper, and we might take Charlie for a walk before your supper.'
Peter, a reasonable child, agreed to this, only adding, 'It's a pity that Mr van Linssen can't see Charlie. You don't suppose he'll come to see us?'
`No, love, I don't expect that he will. He'll be getting married soon and he won't have any time.'
`He could write a little letter...'
`Important people like him have secretaries to write their letters.'
She went with the rector on Peter's first day at school, careful to keep in the background—small boys, she knew, were touchy about grown-ups tagging along. From a distance, she saw him and the rector's son go through the imposing front door of the school. 'I do hope he'll be happy,' she told her companion.
`No doubt of it! He's a happy child and well-liked. I'll bring him home with my son Jack this afternoon, and you'll find he's settled in without any trouble. You'll have more time to yourself now, won't you? You must come over to the Rectory for a game of tennis one afternoon. Do you remember the Woollands? Victor and Joyce have been in America but they're due back any day now—nice to meet old friends again...'
`Yes, I did know them—but not very well.' She hadn't liked Joyce much, a gushing girl who spread spiteful gossip, and as for Victor, unless he had im-
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br /> proved out of all knowledge, she had no particular wish to see him again. He had had damp hands and an overpowering conceit. She couldn't refuse the rector's invitation, however. He had been very kind, helping her to slip into village life again, and perhaps Victor had improved since they had last seen each other...
She met him in the village street a few days later, and at first glance he didn't appear to have altered at all, and his hand when he grasped hers was still damp. 'Lally, we were told you were back—come into a fortune, I hear. Some people have all the luck!' He laughed heartily and she smiled a polite smile and hastened to disillusion him.
`Whatever you heard is nonsense, Victor. I've inherited Ivy Cottage and some money from a relative.'
He sniggered. 'Didn't suppose you'd admit it. Never very forthcoming, were you? Still got that boy with you?'
`Peter? Yes, and Miss Trott.'
`Nosy old bird...'
She fired up. 'How dare you talk like that of Miss Trott? I must be on my way. Give my love to Joyce...'
He put a hand on her arm. 'Got off on the wrong foot. Sorry, old girl. Just my joking. No offence. Joyce'll want to see you—may we come and see you one day? Renew old friendships, eh?'
She said levelly, 'We never were friends, Victor, but do bring Joyce if she would like to come.'
She told Trottie when she got back to the cottage. `I couldn't refuse him, could I?' she asked. 'We used to play tennis together, but then there were the Cartwrights and the Kingsleys, so I never had much to do with Victor or Joyce. He behaved as though we'd been the best of friends instead of casual acquaintances.'