by Betty Neels
It was quite unlike her to cry herself to sleep, but presently she did just that.
She caught an early morning train, doing her best to swamp her unhappy feelings in the bustle of getting to the station with Wellington and her overnight bag. Her father was waiting for her at Salisbury, and being somewhat absent minded, enquired of her if Nigel would be joining her later before the black look on her pale lovely face finally reminded him, and he begged pardon hurriedly and went on in a rush, ‘Well, we’ve a guest for the weekend, my dear—Nicholas—it’s his half term and his father had to attend some seminar or other which would have meant him staying at school, so I brought him back with me yesterday. He’s as happy as a sandboy, whatever that may mean, riding Star and grooming Jane. A nice lad…’
Julia received this piece of news calmly and upon reflection decided that it would be rather nice to have company. ‘We could ride down the valley,’ she suggested, ‘I’ll ‘phone the riding school and borrow Juno…’
Her father looked pleased. ‘Well, my dear, I took it upon myself to do that—she’s in the paddock, waiting for you.’
‘Super, thank you, Father. We might get a ride in before lunch.’
‘That’s what your mother thought.’ They were out of the city now, driving along the familiar road with home barely a couple of miles away. She was feeling better already; her life at St Anne’s was dropping away into a vague other world she wouldn’t allow herself to think about until Monday morning; she wouldn’t think about Nigel either. He would ‘phone her as soon as he could and everything would be just as it used to be.
The house looked beautifully peaceful in the pale autumn sunshine, there were still roses in the garden and the lawn was covered in leaves. Julia ran indoors to be greeted by her mother and after a minute, a rather shy Nicholas.
‘I won’t be in the way?’ he wanted to know anxiously, ‘Mr Mitchell said you wouldn’t mind if I rode Star.’
‘I think it’s lovely that you are here,’ said Julia warmly. ‘Just give me time to settle Wellington and have some coffee and get into some slacks and we’ll be off. There are almost two hours before lunch.’
The boy smiled at her and she was reminded sharply of his father, whose smile, though rare, was charming. ‘I like you,’ he told her gravely.
‘And I like you. Will you see to Wellington, while I have coffee and change?’
‘I’ve a little cat and Father has a dog at home,’ he told her seriously. ‘While I’m at school he looks after Minou for me. She’s a moggy, like Wellington.’
‘The very best kind of cat,’ Julia assured him, swallowing coffee and gobbling the slice of cake her mother had cut for her.
Ten minutes later she swung herself on to Juno and, with Nicholas urging Star to exert himself, they took the bridle path going towards Broad Chalke. They turned off presently to ride slowly along by the river while Nicholas told her about his school.
‘You’re happy there?’ asked Julia and hoped that he was, he was a dear boy and she liked him better every minute.
‘Oh, yes, I’ll go to a public school when I’m old enough and then I’ll go to Holland and study to be a doctor.’
Julia turned to look at him in surprise. ‘Holland, but why?’
‘Father studied at Leiden, so I shall too, then I’ll come back here and take an English degree or perhaps a Scottish one.’
‘But won’t it be difficult for you studying in a different language?’
‘No, you see I speak Dutch with Father, and we go to my grandmother’s house quite often. It’s not her house really, it’s father’s but she lives in it.’
Julia blinked. ‘Oh, I see.’ She slowed Juno down so that Star’s portly form could keep up with her. ‘Well, it’s nice to have your future settled.’ Which remark reminded her that it would be nice to have her own future settled as neatly.
They had gone out into a lane once more, high banked and narrow, and they went into single file. ‘We’ll turn off at the crossroads,’ said Julia, ‘that should get us back in nice time for lunch.’
The crossroads were round the next bend and waiting for them there was the professor. Julia reined in sharply.
She said, a little breathless. ‘Oh, hullo—I thought you were at some seminar or other.’
Nicholas had urged Star alongside his father’s great horse, Goliath, from the same stables as Juno, a mettlesome beast, most suitable for a man of his size. ‘Father, what a lovely surprise—didn’t you have to go after all?’
‘I cried off.’ The professor put a large hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘It wasn’t absolutely essential that I went and I have to go to Groningen very shortly anyway.’ He looked across to where Julia was sitting very still on Juno. ‘May I join you? Are you on the way back?’
‘Well, yes, Mother said lunch at one o’clock. I expect she’ll ask you to stay unless you have other plans?’
‘None. And I’d like ten minutes’ talk with Mr Mitchell afterwards if he can spare the time?’
He turned Goliath and they ambled down the lane running between grassland sloping away to hills and with nothing ahead of them in sight. ‘Your weekend, Julia?’ enquired the professor.
She had a strong suspicion that he knew that already. Her ‘Yes,’ was a little pettish.
‘Longman’s gone?’ The question was carelessly put.
‘Yes,’ said Julia again, and then because she didn’t want to be ungracious, ‘He went today and he starts work on Monday.’ And since it seemed to her that he would ask the inevitable question: ‘He has gone to stay with his parents…’
But beyond a kind of rumble and a lift of the eyebrows, the professor had nothing to say to this. They rode in silence for a while until Nicholas said eagerly, ‘You’re staying, Father? Don’t you have to go back to London?’
‘No, Nicky, I don’t have to go back until tomorrow evening, but if you’d like to go home we’ll go after lunch…’
‘I’d rather stay, Father. You see I can ride all I want here and there’s Julia to talk to.’
‘That’s fine, Nicky. I’ll be at the pub at Broad Chalke.’
They rode in silence for a little. Julia spoke at last: ‘There’s heaps of room at home, I’m sure Mother will be glad to put you up, Professor, since Nicholas is staying with us.’ She sounded reluctant.
He turned a bland face to her. ‘How very kind.’ His voice was a nice mixture of surprise, pleasure and nicely balanced reluctance, ‘But I couldn’t possibly impose upon her…’
Julia had her mouth open ready to tell him that in that case she was sure her mother would understand, but Nicholas spoke before she could get the words out. ‘Smashing! Father we can ride before breakfast…’
The professor glanced at Julia, a little smile twitching the corners of his mouth, for all the world as though he had known what she had been going to say.
‘In that case we must hope for Mrs Mitchell’s kindness, Nicky.’
A foregone conclusion. Mrs Mitchell greeted him with pleasure, urged him to stay to lunch and when Nicholas told her that his father was putting up in Broad Chalke said instantly, ‘Of course you must stay here, Professor—we shall all love to have you, shan’t we Julia? We’ve room enough now the boys are at school and George will be delighted to see you again. We’ll have lunch, then you can get your things—did you leave your car at Broad Chalke? Good—Julia can drive you over to fetch it; we’ll phone the stables and Goliath can stay here for the weekend—it won’t be the first time…’
Mrs Mitchell nodding approval of her advice, sent Nicholas to fetch her husband, begged Julia to show the professor his room and tidy herself at the same time, warned them that lunch would be ready in another ten minutes or so, and went back to the kitchen.
Julia started up the stairs, she spoke over her shoulder. ‘I think Mother intends you to have the guest room—Nicholas is in Jason’s.’ She led the way down a narrow passage at the back of the house and up two steps to a large low-ceilinged room with a lo
w casement window. The furniture was old and beautifully polished and there was a patchwork quilt on the big bed.
‘I’ll get you some towels, and if there is anything else you need, Professor…’
‘My name is Lauris.’
‘Oh, is it? That’s Dutch, I expect—I’ve not heard it before. The towels…’ She wanted to get away although she wasn’t quite sure why!
‘Julia, if you don’t want me to stay, tell me and I’ll go. You’re unhappy about Longman, aren’t you—perhaps I make it worse—remind you of St Anne’s…’
‘No, no don’t go. I don’t mean to be…’ She looked up at his impassive face. ‘I’m a bit muddled that’s all.’
He had come to stand by her. ‘Because Longman has gone to his home instead of spending the weekend with you. But he hasn’t gone to the ends of the earth, Julia, only to Bristol—and you have your weekends together and holidays and once he’s settled in he’ll probably want to get married as soon as possible.’
Julia stared at his tie. She said on a sigh: ‘You’re so much nicer than I thought you were, and I’ve been working for you for more than three years…’
Which really didn’t answer him at all, although strangely enough, it seemed to satisfy him.
Excepting their morning rides together with Nicholas, she saw very little of him; he took his son for long walks, spent a good deal of time with her father, and at meals, although he treated her with the utmost friendliness, he made no attempt to be alone with her. Only on Sunday as they walked back from church, planning a last ride after lunch, did he suggest casually that she might like to go back to London with him that evening. ‘We’ll take Nicky back on the way,’ he told her, ‘if you’ve no objection. I know that you’re not on duty until one o’clock and probably intended to return on Monday morning, but the offer stands if you care to take it up.’
It seemed a good idea; it would save the tiresome business of getting herself and Wellington from Waterloo to her flat and she could use Monday morning for some shopping. She agreed at once and Nicholas, busy rubbing down Star asked, ‘Couldn’t you come and see us one day, Julia? When I’m home for the holidays? We could take the dogs for a walk…’
‘A splendid idea,’ observed the professor. ‘Although I dare say Julia hasn’t a great deal of time to spare.’
Julia didn’t wait to decide if he was putting her off or encouraging her; probably neither, she didn’t imagine that he was interested in her leisure hours; once or twice he had shown a surprisingly sympathetic interest in her, but she didn’t set much store by that. ‘Why, Nicholas, I’d like to do that—I could meet you in one of the parks. Will you write to me when you are on holiday and suggest a time and I’ll see if I can arrange something.’
‘Oh, super! Race you to the house, Julia.’
She allowed him to win, but only just, and then waited for the professor to catch up with them. Her cheeks were pink with the exercise then and her eyes sparkled greenly. She said a little out of breath, ‘I’m getting too old for tearing round like a ten-year-old.’
The professor looked her up and down very deliberately. ‘You are just the right age,’ he pronounced calmly, ‘and not only for tearing around.’
She was still out of breath but for a different reason now. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ she said crossly.
She saw very little of him for the rest of the day; he and her father disappeared into the study after lunch and then he and Nicholas went off for a walk before tea. Julia half expected to be asked to go with them, but she wasn’t and retired to the drawing-room with her Mother and the pair of them made vague plans about her wedding. ‘Although it’s not much use discussing it until you have a more definite date, darling,’ complained Mrs Mitchell.
Julia looked up from the game she was having with Wellington. ‘No, Mother. Perhaps Nigel will know a bit more about his job and the flat when he has settled in. When do the boys break up? I’ll come home for another weekend, it seems ages since I saw them. Madge is coming up for the day next week; she wants to do some shopping; I’ll get a day off and see her on to the train. You don’t mind having little Harry?’
‘He’s such a good baby. A day out will do her good. Had we better get tea I wonder? Nicholas has to be back at school by six o’clock.’
Julia got up. ‘I’ll get it—it’ll give me something to do…’
She took her time setting the table, cutting sandwiches, fetching the cake and scones and jam and cream. For some reason she felt restless.
The meal was a lively one, brought to a reluctant finish by the professor’s remark that if they didn’t leave within the next ten minutes Nicholas would be late back.
Goodbyes said, he sent the Rolls along the narrow road; the evening was already closing in and Nicholas said happily, ‘It’ll soon be Christmas—do you come home, Julia?’
‘No—it’s a kind of unwritten law that ward sisters are on duty for at least part of Christmas Day, besides, there are the decorations and all the extra food and presents to tie up I shall be frightfully busy.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity—it would be nice if you could come and see us. Perhaps you’ll be married by then…’
‘Well, I don’t expect to be,’ said Julia slowly.
‘The unexpected always happens,’ observed the professor quietly, ‘we have but to wait and see.’
Nicholas safely delivered at his school house, the professor took the road to London. He was silent for a while, and Julia made no attempt to talk, perhaps he was thinking about Nicholas; the boy had been happy and he was devoted to his father; the two of them must hate being apart. ‘He needs a mother,’ she said out loud, voicing a thought, and almost bit her tongue out with rage at her own foolishness. It was a splendid chance for the professor to make one of his biting remarks, so she was all the more astonished when he said matter-of-factly, ‘Well, he’ll have one soon.’
She had no idea why she found this statement so unwelcome. She said brightly: ‘Oh, how nice—I didn’t know…’
‘How should you?’ he wanted to know coolly, ‘I don’t broadcast the details of my private life to all and sundry.’
‘I won’t tell a soul,’ she assured him, her voice rather high and stiff. And fell to pondering the matter. If it was the blonde girl she had met outside the cinema, then he had made a bad choice; she wouldn’t do at all, neither for him or for Nicholas. She would have to find out…
‘It’s no good guessing,’ said the professor blandly, ‘You’ll be told in good time.’
‘I’m not really interested Professor, why should I be?’
‘A moot point.’ They were getting near the motorway but at its approach he turned off on to the A33. ‘Why aren’t we going on the motorway?’ asked Julia.
‘Since I have been the cause of you cutting short your weekend, the least I can do is take you out to dinner.’
Julia turned her head to stare at his calm profile. She said very coldly, ‘Put like that, Professor, I have no difficulty in refusing.’
His bellow of laughter confused her. ‘My dear Julia, you have called me “Professor” twice within the last few minutes. I can’t think why: I’ve only asked you out to dinner, surely a harmless enough event. Of what are you afraid, I wonder? I suspect you don’t know. You will find out in time for yourself. In the meantime, are we both to go hungry or shall we stop and eat?’ He added at his most bland. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’
‘Yes,’ said Julia. Tea seemed a long while ago and a supperless evening wasn’t inviting.
‘Good. You are such a sensible young woman, Julia. One must admire you for that.’
He took her to Andwells Restaurant in the village of Heckfield. And very nice too, thought Julia, sitting opposite him in the pleasant room, trying to decide what to eat. She decided on Salade Niçoise, lobster Newburg and soufflé Harlequin while the professor settled for oysters, grilled steak and truffles and the cheese board.
‘It is a pleasure,’ said the profess
or silkily, ‘to have a meal with someone who doesn’t peck at raw carrots and toast melba.’
‘I don’t like carrots,’ she told him pleasantly, ‘probably something to do with my red hair.’
‘You don’t mind having such—er—striking hair?’
‘Why should I? I’ve had it all my life and I’m used to it. When I was a little girl I used to want to be golden-haired, small and slim; I gave up wanting the impossible some years ago.’
He sat back in his chair very much at his ease. ‘As I said, you are a sensible young woman, Julia.’
There was, she felt, no need to labour the point. She began on the salad, embarking at the same time on an aimless conversation about nothing much. A pity; it was such a waste of time to talk nothings with someone one could really talk to, say anything without fear of being misunderstood. She paused in mid-sentence, her fork half way to her mouth, struck by the thought that she would have no difficulty at all in saying anything which came into her head to the professor, whereas with Nigel she would need to think carefully first…
‘You have been struck by a sudden thought,’ observed her companion unerringly. ‘May I know it?’
She popped some lobster into her mouth and chewed it while she thought. ‘No—I don’t think you’d better. It’s just something…’
He gave her a hooded glance. ‘These odd stray thoughts,’ he commented vaguely. ‘When do you expect to see Longman?’
She hadn’t expected that. ‘I don’t know. He’s going there this evening; he has to find out where I can stay and that sort of thing…’
‘His parents?’ murmured the professor.
She shot him a vexed look. ‘I really don’t know,’ she told him sharply. He seemed to lose interest, for he began to talk about a number of everyday topics which took them smoothly through the rest of the meal and indeed half way to London. And after that they fell into a companionable silence until they were slowing through the outskirts.