by Miss Read
Nathaniel Patten's benign countenance caught the sun's rays, and pink tipped daisies were already clustered about the plinth.
Jane breathed a sigh of delight. How good it was to be here, to see their charges beginning to enjoy their new surroundings, and, best of all, to be able to move again, perhaps not quite so nimbly as she had when she first arrived, but certainly with more confidence and with less pain as the weeks went by.
A figure loomed up beside her. It was Percy Hodge.
'Oh, hello, uncle,' said Jane. 'And how are things with you?'
'Could be worse,' said Percy cautiously.
'I was going to make a cup of coffee,' said Jane. 'Will you join me?'
'Just off over the road,' responded Percy, nodding towards The Two Pheasants. 'Got to have a word with Albert.'
'Then I won't hold you up,' said his niece, watching him set off, and went back through the dewy morning to her elevenses.
But through the kitchen window she noticed the young Cooke girl pedalling down the road from Nidden.
She got off at The Two Pheasants, propped her bicycle against the wall, and vanished inside.
It certainly looked, thought Jane, stirring her cup, as if Uncle Percy was in the throes of love, yet again.
At Lulling Cottage Hospital, Jenny's recovery was steady, and she was promised a return home within a few days.
'Old P-B', as John Lovell called him, had done his usual neat surgery, and apart from an irritating little lump which Jenny imagined was a husk from the morning porridge, all was well. Mr Pedder-Bennett, on examining his handiwork, was quite hurt to discover that the irritation was caused by a minute knot in his exquisite needlework, and assured his patient that it was only a matter of hours and then all would be in perfect condition. And so, to give 'old P-B' his due, it certainly was.
When Winnie returned from a visit to Jenny one evening, she was slightly alarmed to see a light on in her sitting room. Could she have forgotten to switch it off? Should she go into the Hursts and ask Frank to accompany her into the house, in case burglars had broken in? As long as they were free from stocking masks over their faces – which Winnie found unendurable – she felt that she could probably cope alone.
But while she stood at the gate, with all these thoughts whirling in her head, the front door opened, and there was her nephew, Richard.
'Oh, what a relief!' cried Winnie, i thought you were a burglar!'
'Not quite. I did try to ring you this afternoon,' he said, helping his aunt to take off her coat.
'I must have been in the greenhouse.'
'I had the key you gave me years ago. So here I am.'
'And very nice too,' said Winnie. 'Get yourself a drink, and me too, dear boy, and tell me what brings you here.'
There was silence for a time as Richard filled two glasses and carried them carefully across the room. It gave Winnie time to wonder if Richard were the forerunner of the rest of his family, and if so, was the spare bed made up for him? It usually stood in readiness for just such an emergency, and she was sure that Jenny would have left everything in apple pie order. But more than one person she simply could not accommodate.
She need not have worried.
'I'm afraid I'm homeless, Aunt Win.'
'Homeless?'
'Ever since I came back from China.'
'What happened?'
'When I arrived back I found that Roger had left his wife and moved in with Fenella.'
'What do you mean? Are they living together as man and wife? I thought you said they were cousins, or somehow related.'
'So they are. But very distant cousins.' Richard sounded amused at Winnie's reaction, which made her cross, as well as shocked.
'But what's to be done, Richard? After all, you and Fenella are properly married –'
'So's Roger. The biggest snag of all is that the flat is Fenella's, and she can have who she likes there. At the moment she likes to have Roger, and not me.'
'But what about your baby?'
'That will have to be decided when we get a divorce.'
It all sounded drearily. wretched to Winnie, and she turned to more practical things.
'So where have you been staying all this time?'
'With an old school friend. He has a service flat near Marble Arch, but it's much too small for the two of us. I moved into some digs in Notting Hill Gate last week, but there's such a racket going on from a pub next door, I felt I couldn't stand it any longer, and fled down here.'
'But what are your plans, Richard? For the immediate future, I mean? Of course, I can put you up for a day or two, and should be pleased to have you here, but things are a trifle worrying for me too at the moment.'
She explained about Jenny. To her surprise, Richard looked genuinely concerned.
'Poor old Jenny! So she can't make those delicious cheese scones at the moment.'
What a pity, thought Winnie, that he had not told Jenny how delicious they were at the time. But in any case, she would repeat this belated compliment to the invalid.
'The thing is,' he went on, 'I'm having to get my notes together for another tour next month, and I simply can't work in those digs.'
'Well, I suggest that you settle in here for a few days, and we'll look around for quiet lodgings nearby until you set off on your travels again. That is, if you want to be in Thrush Green.'
'There's nothing I'd like more. I can work here, I know.'
Winnie roused herself.
'Well, that's settled. I'm just going to fill a hot water bottle for the spare bed, Richard, and you can take it up and unpack.'
Richard crossed the room and gave her a kiss.
'You are an angel. I can't thank you enough.'
'I'll be glad of your company,' she told him, much touched by this rare display of feeling. 'And while you're upstairs, I will get us some supper.'
'Lovely! I must admit I'm famished.'
'It won't be up to Jenny's standards,' she warned him. 'Scrambled eggs or sardines on toast, and some rather ancient cheese.'
'Delicious!' said Richard, making for the stairs. 'I'll come down for the bottle in two ticks. And, by the way, I brought a pork pie with me, in case I had to pitch camp under a hedge, so we'll add that to the supper table.'
Waiting for the kettle to boil, Winnie pondered on Richard's melancholy news. What a muddle some people seemed to make of their lives! And what would the future hold for this particular four?
More to the point, what would happen to that poor young baby and the unseen, but exuberant, Timothy? Would these marital troubles sort themselves out eventually? At times Richard, despite his brilliant brain, seemed absolutely helpless.
Nevertheless, thought Winnie, he had brought a pork pie with him. One must be thankful for small mercies.
20 Richard's Affairs
A week or two later, on a March day of wind and sunshine, Dotty Harmer, Connie and Kit celebrated the departure of the workmen with a particularly festive lunch.
They broached a bottle of claret from Kit's store, although Dotty had invited them to take their pick of her own home-brewed variety.
'I really can recommend the parsnip,' she assured them, 'and the wheat and raisin is quite heady stuff.'
'I think Kit particularly wants to try his claret,' said Connie. 'So let's keep yours for another time.'
'We ought to pour a libation to the household gods,' Kit said. 'Just to make sure they look after us after all we've been through.'
'Don't you have to do something dreadful to a chicken or pigeon, dear, if you make libations?' said Dotty becoming agitated. 'We really can't have anything like that here!'
'You're thinking of foretelling things, Dotty,' said Kit. 'The Greeks used to study the entrails of their sacrifice, if I remember aright.'
'It all sounds most unpleasant and messy,' replied Dotty, 'and I hope you won't speak of such things when the hens are present. They understand far more than you give them credit for, you know.'
Kit held up h
is glass.
'I promise you that, Dotty. And now, here's to the workmen!'
'And may they never return!' added Connie.
Dotty raised her glass carefully.
'To all of us in this house,' said Dotty.
'I'm not quite sure,' said Connie, 'what we are toasting!'
'Just drink, my dear,' replied her husband, 'and be thankful.'
The news of Richard's arrival had soon reached everyone in Thrush Green. The reasons for his visit were extraordinarily varied.
The old people at the homes were as intrigued as the other residents. Mrs Bates thought he might have been ill, and advised by his doctor to have country air. Miss Fuller had heard that he was studying for an examination. The Jermyns were nearer the mark with the correct guess that Richard's marriage was in jeopardy.
Nelly Piggott told Albert that the rumour going round The Fuchsia Bush was that Richard had lost his job and was now penniless. Winnie Bailey was supporting him until he found work.
Albert, who had spent the day at Dotty's refurbishing the coops ready for broody hens and was in a more mellow frame of mind than usual, contented himself with the rejoinder: 'More fool Mrs Bailey!'
Conjecture was rife in Lulling too. Charles Henstock, who had called at the Lovelocks' house to deliver a parcel from Dimity, was closely questioned, and had to reply, quite truthfully, that he really knew nothing about the matter.
'I fear it may be true that he has left his wife,' said Ada. 'He was never a very reliable character.'
'Do you remember when dear Donald Bailey called here one day when Richard was about six?' said Bertha.
'I shall never forget it,' trumpeted Ada, with a shudder.
'The child fingered absolutely everything,' Violet told Charles. 'And when he asked if he could play in the garden, of course we agreed.'
'But on his way through the kitchen he switched on every one of the burners on the stove,' said Bertha.
'And in the garden he found the hose, turned on the tap to its maximum, and swamped the flower beds,' added Ada.
'And, worse still,' continued Violet, 'he turned it on poor Mrs Jefferson who was pegging out The Fuchsia Bush tea towels next door, and drenched her to the skin!'
'And all in the space of five minutes!' Bertha said.
To Charles it really only sounded a childish prank, but obviously it had been a major disaster remembered, for many years, by the three sisters.
'What a lovely room this is!' he said, trying to change the subject. 'You get all the morning sun.'
'Yes, it is pleasant,' agreed Ada, 'but the whole house is getting too much for us. Far too big, you know. We have been thinking of applying for one of the new homes at Thrush Green.'
Charles was taken aback. No one could say that the Lovelocks were in any need of such accommodation. They had this splendid house already, and a certain amount of domestic help, The Fuchsia Bush next door, and all the shops in Lulling High Street hard by and, above all, far more money than they could ever need.
'I doubt if you would qualify for a place,' said Charles. 'And in any case, the largest of the homes is only for two people.'
'Oh, we really thought of the single apartments. One each was our idea.'
'That, I'm sure, would be quite impossible,' said Charles firmly. 'You would be taking up three-quarters of the single people's accommodation at one blow.'
He stood up ready to depart.
'If I were you,' he ventured, i should think of closing one or two of your rooms to save work – and heating, of course.'
'We don't have heating much at all,' said Bertha. 'We just put on thicker vests or our winter spencers.'
They waved goodbye to their visitor, and then Ada, who was the most senior of the sisters, turned to Bertha with a reproachful expression.
'There was no need to speak of our underwear, Bertha! In very bad taste! Even if he is of the cloth, you must remember that Charles is a MAN!'
At Winnie Bailey's house, upon which so much attention was being focused at this time, affairs were settling down.
Richard was on his best behaviour, helped with the washing up, straightened his bed, and did his best to be unobtrusive.
He worked quietly upstairs for most of the morning, and took a walk in the afternoon. In fact, he was so little bother, Winnie found, after a few days, that she decided that he might just as well stay under her roof rather than go to the bother of finding lodgings for the fortnight or so which remained before he set off on his lecture tour.
The evening before Jenny was due back from hospital, she broached the subject. Naturally, Richard was delighted and grateful.
'But I must stress one thing, Richard. I'm not letting Jenny do any heavy work for a few weeks. I know she'll protest, but I'm going to be adamant. So that means you must pull your weight while you're here. Could you take on the boiler and this fire, for instance? Keep us stoked up, and cleaned out and so on?'
Richard brightened.
'I'd love to. You know I love dirty jobs.'
'You certainly swept the kitchen flue marvellously, I remember, and Phil Hurst still talks of the time you cleaned out her drains.'
'Dear girl!' said Richard affectionately. 'She's wasted on old Frank. I would have liked her for myself.'
'Maybe, Richard, but that time has gone,' said Winnie, with some asperity. 'Well, if you'll take on those jobs, it will help enormously.'
'I'm a dab hand at vacuum cleaning too,' said Richard, 'though I draw the line at dusting.'
'I can cope with that, and the cooking and shopping,' said Winnie. 'I'm glad you're going to stay, dear boy. We shall manage very well, I'm sure. But what about your family affairs? Do you want to try and meet Fenella before you go?'
Richard looked pensive. He took up the poker, and turned over a beech log on the back of the fire.
'I don't think so. I rang her last night and she was as off-hand as ever. She knows where I shall be for the next month or two, if she wants to get in touch. I think I shall leave it to her for the time being, and try my luck again when I've done this tour.'
'So you think there might be some hope?'
'If Roger takes it into his head to move out, then I think there might be. But not as things are at the moment.'
'Well, you are all four grown up, and presumably sensible people. It's the children, I'm thinking about.'
'So am I, Aunt Win. Now, that's enough of my worries. Tomorrow I start my fire-tending duties, and fetch Jenny from the hospital. Right?'
'From the look of that coal scuttle,' observed Winnie, 'your fire-tending starts immediately.'
Richard obediently collected the scuttle and set off for the coal cellar, followed by his aunt's amused gaze.
***
The bright March weather continued. The birds were resplendent in their mating finery, nests were being built, and the hedgehogs and squirrels were beginning to stir from their months of hibernation.
Yellow coltsfoot and early primroses starred the banks, and George Curdle found a little bunch of fragrant white violets to present to his adored Miss Fogerty. The trees, so stark throughout the winter, were beginning to grow hazy with swelling buds, and rosettes of young leaves were bursting on the honeysuckle's twining stems.
'It all seems so hopeful,' commented Dorothy to Agnes, as they descended the hill to Lulling to keep their luncheon engagement with Ray and Kathleen. 'Somehow I feel we are in for a splendidly hot summer.'
Ray and Kathleen were at The Fleece to greet them, and Harrison was mercifully absent, presumably having his own repast and rest as arranged.
Affectionate greetings were exchanged and the menu studied whilst the four sipped their sherry.
'I wonder what "Sole Veronique" is?' wondered Agnes aloud.
'Grapes on it,' replied Dorothy succinctly. 'I don't think you'd like it, dear. What about these scallops of veal?'
'I can't eat veal now,' said Kathleen, 'after seeing how the poor darling calves are treated on television.'
'I do so agree,' said Agnes. 'That's why I'm having sole, if I may.'
'So shall I,' said Kathleen, 'but I do so hope they can supply plain boiled potatoes. My migraine is so easily brought on.'
'Well, I'll settle for the veal,' said Dorothy sturdily.
'And I shall have a rare fillet steak,' announced Ray, which Agnes thought suitably manly.
The Fleece dealt competently with their order, and Agnes thought how pleasant it was to be sitting with old friends, with good food before them, and the tranquil view of St John's across the green.
At a table in the window, she now noticed young Mr Venables and his wife. She waved to them, and Justin half-rose, gave a courtly little bow, and resumed his seat again. Agnes was touched to see that he was engaged in cutting up his wife's meat, so that she could eat it with her fork, held in her cruelly twisted arthritic hand. Poor Mrs Venables, thought Agnes, almost moved to tears, and she used to do such beautiful crochet-work!
Coffee was brought to them in the hotel sitting room. It was warm and sunny, and for two pins Agnes could have dropped off into a refreshing snooze, but common courtesy compelled her to make an occasional comment on Kathleen's non-stop description of her ailments. At least it gave Dorothy and Ray a chance to have a heart-to-heart talk on a neighbouring settee, she noted with some gratification.
'And my new doctor,' went on Kathleen, 'is taking so much more interest in my case. There were times when I believe my old medical man simply didn't listen. I couldn't understand it.'
Agnes knew exactly how he must have felt, but naturally did not say so.
At last, Ray stood up, studying his wrist watch.
'About time we were off, Kath. I'll go and get Harrison.'
The ladies donned their coats and went out of the front door. The air was cool and invigorating.
A frenzied yapping announced the arrival of Ray and his black labrador. The latter leapt upon Kathleen with such impetus that it would have felled any unsuspecting person, but his mistress stood up to his attentions with great indulgence.
'There, there!' she cried. 'Say "hello" to your two aunties.'
The ladies put out their hands civilly and patted the dog's silky head.