by Betty Neels
She was wrong. It had registered with Oliver, and when Miss Creed demanded that her niece should be fetched so that she might dance attendance upon her when the Professor called, and Jenny was nowhere to be found, and nor had anyone seen her in the house or grounds for quite some time, he joined the group of grown-ups discussing her probable whereabouts, but no one paid attention to him; they were too busy explaining her absence to the Professor, who had just arrived. He was inclined to think nothing of it. ‘Probably gone for a walk,’ he offered laconically. ‘Perhaps Margaret could stand in…?’
But Aunt Bess wasn’t going to have Margaret. ‘Pooh,’ she declared loudly, ‘the girl’s no use at all. If Jenny can’t be found, then you can go home again, and don’t dare to charge me a fee!’
The Professor hid a grin and then looked down at Oliver, tugging gently at his sleeve. ‘I think I know where Jenny is,’ he told him. ‘She told me she would have to clean the clock tower room—it’s full of old birds’ nests—she told me so.’
The Professor eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Did she know that I was coming this morning?’
‘Course she did. She went to do her hair again after breakfast and when I asked her why she said: “Well, the old Prof’s coming, isn’t he? and I want to look severe.’” Oliver paused. ‘Why?’
A smile tugged at the corner of the Professor’s mouth. ‘We must ask her, mustn’t we? I’ll go and fetch her.’
‘Shall I come with you?’
The big man smiled again. ‘I think not, Oliver. Perhaps you would like to show me the carp later?’
He detached himself from the little group of people standing around and strolled off in the direction of the Clock Tower, along the south front, not hurrying in the least. The door was still open, he doubled himself up and went, still without haste, up the staircase.
Jenny heard the creak of the door and the unhurried steps and made herself look down from the spot on the wall where she had fastened her gaze because she was afraid of getting giddy. ‘Don’t come up,’ she shouted in a not quite steady voice, ‘the steps have crumbled.’
The footsteps didn’t pause, and she shouted again urgently, ‘For heaven’s sake, listen!’
‘I heard you very well the first time,’ observed the Professor, rounding the last curve and stopping to contemplate the mass of masonry between them, ‘but since I’m a humane man and unwilling to leave anyone, even you, in such a pickle, I considered it my duty to come and see what you were shouting about.’
Jenny choked back a strong desire to burst into tears. ‘I’m glad you find it amusing,’ she told him in an icy, shaking little voice. ‘And now if you would be so good as to fetch someone—Florrie will know what to do…’
‘Don’t be silly,’ he told her calmly, ‘Florrie won’t have the least idea what to do—besides, there’s no need to fetch anyone—you only have to jump.’
‘Jump?’ uttered Jenny on a screech. ‘It’s ten feet—more. And where, pray, do I jump to?’
‘Me.’
He was leaning back against the wall, poised in what she considered to be quite a dangerous manner on a pile of broken stones. He looked incapable of supporting himself, let alone her. ‘No,’ said Jenny.
‘Afraid?’
‘Well, of course I am—I’m scared stiff, if you must know. I’ll stay here.’
‘Which hardly solves our small problem. I’ll count three and you’ll jump.’
‘I won’t!’
‘No pluck,’ he observed to the opposite wall. ‘Your illustrious ancestors would turn in their graves at your sad lack of courage.’
She said nastily: ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any illustrious ancestors, but if you had, they must have disowned you years ago…ordering me about…’
He chuckled. ‘My dear girl, come on. I’m getting cramp.’
‘All the more reason why I should stay here.’ Her hand slipped on the stones and she gasped with fright.
‘You see? You only have to do that with both hands at the same time…’ His voice held mockery. ‘Jump, Jenny.’
‘I shall knock you down.’
He let out a crack of laughter. ‘You’re what?—eight stone?—less, maybe. Well, I’m over fifteen.’ He went on in a matter-of-fact manner: ‘Your aunt was very annoyed. I daresay that by now she’s allowed herself to get into a towering rage, and you know how bad that can be for her.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Come on, Jenny, even if you can’t stand the sight of me, you can trust me.’
Which, when she thought about it, was true enough. She closed her eyes, made a funny, helpless little sound, and jumped.
It was like hitting a tree trunk and just as solid. She had landed fair and square on to the professor’s waistcoat and his arms held her tight against it. She could hear the hurried beat of his heart under her ear and mumbled: ‘We’ll never be able to move from here,’ as another stair crumbled slowly away.
‘Rubbish—you do as I tell you and we’ll be at the bottom in a matter of seconds. Loosen your strangle-hold a little.’
She withdrew her arms from his neck so sharply that she almost overbalanced. ‘I said loosen it,’ the Professor pointed out mildly. ‘And now do exactly as I say—you can argue about it afterwards.’ She felt his arms slacken and gave a little gasp and heard his: ‘No—now, remember those ancestors. I’m going to grip you by the elbows and swing you clear of the next two steps—I don’t fancy they’ll bear even your weight. I’ll hold you until you’ve found your feet, then you must hang on to the wall until I join you.’
She clutched his waistcoat for a few seconds. ‘All right, I’m ready.’
She felt herself swung down in a gentle arc. ‘Grab the wall, left hand first—now the right. Good girl, I’m going to let go now. I’ll be with you in a moment.’
And he was, balancing his weight beside her before trying the step below. ‘Come on,’ he encouraged her, and gave her a hand to hold. ‘Get a foot on this one, but don’t stay on it—get on to the next one if you can.’
It was quite easy after that, only they had to take care not to be on the same stair together, and once or twice the Professor had to stride over them as they slid away under his weight. As they reached the bottom they could hear the staircase breaking up very slowly behind them. The Professor shut the door and locked it and put the key in his pocket. ‘Just in case Oliver decides to have a look,’ he explained, ‘and now stand still while I dust you down.’
She stood meekly while he brushed the dust off her linen dress, then took his handkerchief and wiped her face and lastly shook out her mane of hair. She should have been able to do these things for herself, but she was shaking so much that she was incapable of it. When he had at length finished, she said in a voice which still shook a little, ‘Thank you—thank you very much. I was very tiresome, wasn’t I? I should have known better. I’m an awful coward.’
He smiled very kindly at her. ‘If you had been a coward, you would still be there on the top step. Do you feel you can face your aunt, or do you want a breather?’
‘I’m all right now, thank you. Are you? I didn’t hurt you when I jumped?’
He was brushing dust off his sleeve. ‘No.’ He sounded, even in that one brief word, as though he were laughing. ‘Shall we go, then?’
It was Margaret who came to meet them as they went into the house. ‘Jenny, where have you been? Aunt Bess is so cross. How could you go away like that, you knew Eduard was coming?’
Eduard indeed! ‘I got hung up—so sorry.’ Jenny moved away from the Professor and started to cross the hall to the cloakroom cunningly hidden in the panelled wall. ‘I’ll tidy myself—I won’t be a minute.’
The Professor was already with her aunt when she reached the room. He must have told her what had happened because she said at once: ‘Janet, you will be good enough to get someone to see about the tower staircase—it must be replaced or rebuilt. You’re all right?’ a little belatedly.
‘Perfectly, thank you, Aunt Bess.’
&
nbsp; ‘Humph—I hope you’re grateful to Eduard.’
She didn’t look at him. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Fetch the brochure of that cruise I intend to go on.’ Aunt Bess waved a beringed hand and turned to the Professor. ‘It seems comfortable enough—I have arranged for us to have cabins on the sun deck. It will be quiet there, and any meals I wish to take there will be brought to me. I’ve made the ship’s agent fully conversant with my state of health.’
‘You have been busy.’ The Professor’s tone was dry.
‘Well, Jenny has arranged it all, of course, she’s good at that sort of thing. There is a doctor on board as well as a nurse—not that I shall need the latter. Jenny will look after me.’
‘She has given up her post at Queen’s?’ he queried softly.
‘Naturally.’ Miss Creed shot him a suspicious look. ‘I have never approved of her taking up nursing, especially at that hospital in the East End.’
‘But if she had not trained as a nurse, you wouldn’t have had her services now, Miss Creed.’
‘That is beside the point,’ said Aunt Bess grandly. ‘She will be having a delightful holiday.’
‘And afterwards?’
She stared at him and he looked back at her with a bland face.
‘I’m sure I don’t know—probably she’ll marry. It’s high time she did.’
Jenny had very little time to regret leaving Queen’s. Aunt Bess, getting stronger every day, kept her busy with plans and arrangements for their cruise as well as overhauling her extensive wardrobe. And Jenny went to London and bought some new clothes for herself too—cool cottons and sundresses and several pretty evening dresses. She spent two days there, staying with one of her friends from Queen’s, listening with nostalgia to the hospital gossip, and then driving back to Dimworth the next day, just in time to take her share of looking after the visitors to the house after she had given an account of her brief trip to Aunt Bess.
It was a lovely day and there were more people than usual. She was tired and hot by teatime, and the sight of Margaret, cool and serene, strolling in the rose garden with the Professor in tow did nothing to improve her mood. Margaret had a generous allowance from the estate and was free to regard it as her home should she wish to do so, but she made no effort to take her part in maintaining it. Indeed, when she came to stay, she expected that the whole place should be geared to her wishes, never mind how inconvenient it was, and even Aunt Bess’s illness hadn’t been allowed to spoil her gentle, selfish routine. As for little Oliver, he was left to his own devices, and if it hadn’t been for Jenny, he would have had little enough fun.
Jenny, watching his mother sink gracefully on to a rustic seat, wondered how he would fare while she was away. Margaret had said that she would remain at Dimworth provided she wasn’t expected to have anything to do with the visitors, which meant that Jenny had had to tour round the estate seeking helpers to fill in with the polishing of the furniture and silver, selling of postcards and the like, and carry on with all the small chores she attended to herself when she was at Dimworth. She took a last look at the pair, Margaret leaning back against the seat as though she were exhausted, and the Professor standing there, looking at her. ‘Silly fool,’ muttered Jenny, and sped away to make sure that the first batch of visitors hadn’t strayed through any of the doors marked private.
She had crossed the hall and was deliberating as to whether she should go and find Mrs Thorpe or make sure that the collection of dolls was properly arranged, when the Professor, with the suddenness of someone who had popped up out of the ground at her feet, was beside her.
She looked at him with some interest. ‘That was pretty smartish,’ she observed. ‘Did you run all the way? And how did you know…?’
‘I saw you looking at us, and when you flounced off in that fashion I thought I’d better come after you and find out what had annoyed you this time.’
She had decided on the dolls and was already walking rapidly towards the tables where they were displayed. ‘You always make me out to be bad tempered,’ she snapped crossly, ‘and I didn’t flounce. And I’m not in the least annoyed.’
She twitched a wax doll’s muslin skirt to exactness moved a baby doll carefully an inch to the left and stood back, her head on one side, refusing to look at him.
‘Looking forward to your holiday?’ His voice was friendly.
‘Yes—no—I really haven’t had the time to think about it—I have a lot to do.’
‘While Margaret strolls in the rose garden.’ He had spoken softly, but Jenny went a fiery red under his little smile.
She said stiffly: ‘This is Oliver’s home and Margaret is his mother, when she is here she naturally does exactly as she likes, and why shouldn’t she?’
‘Oh, quite. Only it seems to me that you don’t always do exactly as you would like, Jenny.’
He sounded so kind and understanding that she found herself saying: ‘Ah, yes, but you see it’s a different kettle of fish with me. Aunt Bess has looked after me all my life, or most of it—and Dimworth has been my home. Margaret is quite entitled to tell me to leave, but she’s too kind.’ Too lazy to bother, too, she added silently.
‘A charming person,’ murmured the Professor. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t do anything so unkind. Besides if you went away, someone else would have to be found to fill your place; dust and polish and run errands and keep an eye on the visitors and entertain Oliver while he is here.’
‘I like doing it,’ said Jenny sharply.
‘You had a very promising career, so Doctor Toms was telling me.’
‘That’s none of your business.’ She began to march back the way she had come. ‘I have to find Mrs Thorpe.’
‘In that cupboard place behind the hall where you keep the brochures. And it might be my business, Jenny.’
She stopped short to look at him. Was he serious about Margaret? Was he actually going to marry her? It would be nice for Oliver. She said quickly: ‘Margaret is lovely and very sweet—she’s been lonely since big Oliver died.’
She dived into the little room to confer with Mrs Thorpe without seeing the expression on the Professor’s face.
She hardly spoke to him again before she and Aunt Bess left; true, he called to see her aunt and exchanged a few commonplace remarks to her concerning that lady’s care while they were away, and although Jenny longed to ask him how long he planned to stay with Doctor Toms, she didn’t do so.
Sitting beside Aunt Bess in the vintage Vauxhall Miss Creed refused to part with, being driven up to the docks at Tilbury to join their ship, she reflected that even after these weeks of seeing him almost every day, she still didn’t know anything about him, only that he wasn’t married and lived and worked in Holland. She wondered if Aunt Bess knew, but it was hardly the time to ask for her companion was resting with her eyes closed. Jenny looked at the elderly face with real affection; Aunt Bess was an old tartar, but a delightful one, with plenty of courage, determined at all costs that after her change of scene, she would return to Dimworth and take up the reins once more as though she had never had to relinquish them.
The ship was smallish and carried no more than three hundred passengers; moreover it was well appointed, with plenty of space. Their cabins on the sun-deck were all that could be desired, side by side well furnished and each with a bathroom. Jenny saw her aunt settled, summoned the stewardess to unpack for her, and retired to her own cabin, where she was presently visited by the purser with the news that they were to sit at the captain’s table and that the ship’s doctor would call upon them very shortly. They had only to ask for anything they required, he added. She thanked him warmly, unpacked, arranged her hair to her satisfaction, added a little more lipstick and went back to her aunt, who expressed satisfaction at the purser’s message, gave it her opinion that her surroundings would do very well, and ordered tea.
The ship had set sail before they had finished and Jenny composed her aunt for a nap before going on deck to have a look rou
nd. In rather less than five minutes she was encircled by an eager little group of men, only too glad to explain just what the ship was doing and why. She treated them all with impartial kindness, refused a variety of invitations to have a drink, dance after dinner, explore the ship and try out the swimming pool in the morning with equal pleasantness, made her excuses charmingly and went off to the wireless room to send a message to Dimworth. She had promised Oliver that the moment they set sail she would let him know, and she remembered now how wistful he had looked when she had kissed him goodbye.
Something would have to be done about him; of course, if the Professor intended to marry Margaret, that would be splendid for Oliver, for he and the boy liked each other, but just supposing that didn’t happen? The little boy had several years of loneliness before he would be sent to school; his grandparents in Scotland were delightful people, but hardly of an age to be his companions, and Margaret was of no use at all. He had one or two friends among the game-keepers’ children who lived close by there, but although they might be good friends for him, their language sometimes left a lot to be desired and Oliver, like all small boys, had picked up the worst of it with all the ease in the world.
She sent her message and wandered back to her cabin; they were to have dinner there on their first evening, so that Aunt Bess might go to bed early after her long journey by car. It was still only nine o’clock by the time Jenny had helped her aunt to bed, saw to it that she had everything she might need for the night, and gone to her own cabin once more. She would have liked to have gone on deck, but she had already refused to join in the evening’s activities. She undressed slowly, got into bed and opened her book, turning its pages without taking in a word for the niggling thought at the back of her mind that she hadn’t said goodbye to the Professor quite distracted her. She flung the book down presently and turned out the light. After all, he could have taken the trouble to find her himself if he had wanted to couldn’t he? Only he hadn’t.
But she had no intention of allowing such a small—figuratively speaking, of course—thing as the Professor spoil the cruise. Subject to Aunt Bess vagaries, she joined in the deck games, danced every evening with a great variety of partners, sunbathed on deck in the increasing warmth, and tried her hand at the fruit machines. But not always; Aunt Bess took her place at the captain’s table at lunch and dinner and had her own special corner in one of the bars before these meals, to which a select few were invited to join her, but she retired early and had her breakfast in bed, and moreover, liked Jenny to read to her while she rested in the afternoons, so that Jenny’s time wasn’t quite her own. Not that she complained, even to herself; they had come on the cruise for the benefit of her aunt’s health, and that should come first.