by Betty Neels
He wasn't a young man…
She went to sleep at last and dreamed about him.
The professor didn't dream of her, but he found himself thinking about her as he drove back to his home. He knew considerably more about her than she did about him, and for some reason he found it difficult to dismiss her image from his mind. Perhaps because she was so unlike any of the women of his acquaintance. She had made no attempt to engage his attention; the reverse, in fact. He had found himself disappointed when she had refused to go with him and the children to Bulbarrow. She was refreshingly undemanding and he no longer found her plain. How pleasant, he considered, to be able to read and study in his library without the fear of phone calls begging him to dine or escort any of his women acquaintances, wasting hours of precious leisure listening to female chatter; a happy state which could be achieved if he were to marry a girl as undemanding as Araminta. He laughed aloud then, and dismissed the absurd idea.
There was little traffic; he was home soon after eleven o'clock, to be greeted by Buller with sandwiches and coffee and the dogs. He went straight into the garden with them, and then went to his study to sit back in his chair with a glass of whisky in his hand and the dogs at his feet-an hour of peaceful reading a pleasant prospect.
He had barely turned a page when the phone ring and he put his book down resignedly. At that hour it would be the hospital…
It wasn't the hospital. "Jason," screamed a voice, "I've been phoning the whole evening. I'm at the Redvers'-it's her birthday, and you simply must come along. I suppose you've got your head in a book? Darling, you simply must come. It's ages since I've seen you."
The professor frowned. "I'm just home after a very long day, Vicky. And I've a very busy day tomorrow."
"Oh, Jason, you are a staid old stick. You might just as well be married for all the fun you are!"
"Sorry, Vicky. There must be any number of young men falling over themselves to get at you."
"Well, yes, there are. I'll leave you to your bed and book-there is a book there, I'll swear?"
He laughed. "Yes. I dare say I'll see you some time."
"Good. Marjorie had lunch with me the other day. She would love us to get married, you know."
"Yes. I do know."
It was a moment or two before she said, "Oh, well, goodnight, Jason."
"Goodnight, Vicky." He put down the receiver with relief. Vicky was a dear girl, he had known her for years, since she had gone to the same school as his sister Marjorie and spent several holidays at his home, and later he had met her again from time to time. It had never entered his head to marry her; she was pretty and empty headed and worked part-time in a boutique, and from time to time she phoned him, demanding, to be taken to the theatre or out to dinner.
He picked up his book again, reflecting that if he were married… That nonsensical idea he had had driving up from Tisbury wasn't as silly as it seemed.
He didn't get back from the hospital until thr early evening on the next day, intent on taking the dogs for a run in the park, but first he would have to phone Araminta. No need for a long talk, he told himself, just a routine enquiry as to the day, which was why he sounded impatient to Araminta when she picked up the phone.
It had been a typical Monday for her: several loads of washing, the ironing, shopping, Mutt to take for a walk, a meal to cook and the children, now that their mother was coming home, more boisterous than usual. Her "hello' was decidedly snappy.
"Everything is all right?" he wanted to know.
She looked at the basket overflowing with school shirts and blouses, sports kit, sheets and pillowcases, endless towels… She said frostily. "Yes, thank you."
"Children behaving?"
"Yes, thank you. They are doing their homework."
"Good. Goodbye, Miss Smith."
He spent an hour in the park, dismissing from his mind the idea that Miss Smith had been decidedly cross. He went home presently and had his dinner, and then spent the evening by the fire, the dogs at his feet, reading the newspaper and dipping into Homer's Iliad, and presently going to his study to make notes for a lecture he was to give at the next seminar.
He spent the whole of the following morning in his consulting-rooms in Harley Street before going to the hospital for a ward round. He got home earlier than usual, to find Buller waiting for him in the hall.
"Mrs. Gault telephoned, sir, not an hour ago. She's leaving in the morning and should be at Heathrow the day after tomorrow. She will ring again this evening."
"Splendid, Buller. She isn't likely to ring for an hour or so, I should imagine. I'll take the dogs out straight away. If she should ring, ask her what time her plane gets in and say I'll meet it or arrange for her to be met."
It was much later in the evening when Mrs. Gault phoned again, which gave the professot time to adjust his appointments for Thursday as far as possible. Her flight would get in at six o'clock in the evening and, despite her eagerness to go home, she consented to spend the night at his house and be driven down early in the morning.
"But I shan't see the children-they'll be at school…"
"Suppose we drive down really early? In time for breakfast? You can see them before they leave. spend the day unpacking and getting settled in, and be there when they get home at teatime."
"Can you spare the time to take me home, ,lason?"
"Yes, provided we leave here about half-past five. I must be back by one o'clock; I've several private patients to see."
"You're an angel. Everything's all right, isn't it?" She sounded anxious.
"Perfectly, my dear." He put down the phone and sat for a moment thinking. He could, of course, ring Araminta, but it was late evening by now; she might be in bed and asleep. If she wasn't, she might find it necessary to go around dusting and cleaning, anxious to have everything spick and span. He would have to explain about Patty and see what his sister wanted to do, and then he could leave everything to her. He went back to his medical journal with a sigh of relief.
Mrs. Gault's plane was on time; he watched her hurrying through the crowds. She hadn't bothered with a trolley but lugged a case in each hand, and he went to meet her and take them from her.
"Jason." She was bubbling over with excitement. "Oh, it's marvellous to be home again-you've no idea-no proper loos and such strange food… Tom's fine, he's flying back next week." She flung her arms round him and gave him a sisterly kiss. "You're a darling to meet me. Has it been awful? The children, I mean, and no Patty. How have you managed?
He had stowed her bags and urged her into the car before getting in beside her. " I haven't-I found a treasure in Miss Smith, who's been looking after the children and running the house."
"Oh, how clever of you. What's she like? I was too upset to notice."
"Plain," said the professor. "Nicely plump, large dark eyes and a very direct manner."
Mrs. Gault stole a look at his profile and saw that he was smiling. She said mildly, "She sounds just right. Do the children like her?"
"Not particularly. They resent her, you see naturally enough-no Patty to let them do exactly as they like, so they treat her like a servant. Which doesn't appear to bother her in the least."
"They can be tiresome," said their fond mother. "Teenagers, you know." She added.
"Welt, I'm grateful to your treasure, but it will he nice when Patty can come back."
"You can phone her this evening and see how she is. I'm sure Miss Smith will stay until Patty returns." He stopped the car in front of his house. "Mrs. Buller has laid on a splendid dinner for us this evening-you're not too tired to enjoy it?"
"I'm tired, but I'm longing for something to eat. I was too excited on the plane."
Presently, after the splendid dinner, they sat on either side of the fire in the drawing-room, Goldie and Neptune between them.
"Have you done anything interesting while I've been away?" asked Mrs. Gault.
The professor said mildly, "My dear Lydia, if by that you mean have I
been out and about, wining and dining lady-friends and seeing the latest plays, then no, I have done nothing interesting. Vicky phoned and wanted me to go to some party or other, but I was only just back from Tisbury-oh, and Marjorie phoned, wanted to know when you would be back."
Lydia said quickly, "What an idiot I am. Of course, you've been going down to Tisbury as well as all the other things you do. You've not had a minute to yourself, have you? How's the hospital?"
"Bursting at the seams. I enjoyed keeping a» eye on the children, my dear." He glanced at his watch. "If we're to leave early, I think you should go to bed."
She yawned. "I can't wait. What about you. Jason?"
"I'm going to the hospital. I shan't be long." He walked with her to the stairs. "Sleep well. It's splendid to have you home again and to know that Tom is well."
She leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I'm so grateful, Jason, and once I'm home I promise I'll leave you in peace. You can go back to your books and the dogs and your never-ending, work. Are you never lonely?"
He smiled. "I'm too busy."
Which wasn't quite true, he reflected as he got into his car. He hadn't realised until just lately that he needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen. Someone, he had to admit, who would leave him in peace to read or to write during his hard-won leisure and not pester him to attend the various social functions he did his best to avoid.
"What you need," his sister had said with sudden vigour, "is a wife. You're fast becoming a crusty old bachelor."
They left before it was light the next morning. It was a typical March day, with a fierce chilly wind and clouds scudding across a dark sky, but it was quite warm in the car and the dogs curled up and slept almost at once, leaving Lydia to talk excitedly as the professor drove through the almost empty streets and away from the city. Once away from it he drove steadily at the maximum speed; there was little traffic going west, and it was barely seven o'clock when he turned off the A303 and took the minor road to Tisbury.
There were lights shining from the village as he swept through its main street and presently turned off into the lane and in at his sister's gate. There were lights shining from the windows here too.
"I'd love a cup of tea," said Mrs. Gault in a shaky voice. "I don't suppose they're up yet."
"Perhaps not the children, but I imagine Miss Smith is going about her duties."
As they got out of the car Lydia said, "I hope she won't think that we're spying on her."
He had turned away to let the dogs out.
"Most unlikely."
"She has got another name, you know. You call her Miss Smith all the time?"
The professor took her arm. "I think we had better knock…"
Araminta, trotting from room to room pulling back curtains and opening windows, went to open the door. The postman, she supposed, with something too large to go through the letter-box.
She flung the door wide. "Mrs. Gault-what a lovely surprise." She smiled with delight. "Won't the children… ? You'd like a cup of tea while I get them up." She rearranged her unassuming features into a polite and rather small smile. "Good morning, Professor Lister. Thr kitchen's warm. I'll make the tea."
The professor said deliberately, "Good morning, Miss Smith. Tea would be delightful." He took his sister's coat and tossed it on to a chair. It was barely half-past seven in the morning and Araminta looked as fresh as thc proverbial daisy. No make-up, he noted, and her hair had been tied back with an elastic ribbon and, as far as he remembered, she was wearing the same sensible and dull clothes, and yet he had to admit she was pleasing to the eye.
Mrs. Gault was sitting by the Aga weeping quietly. "Don't mind me," she told her brother, "I'm so happy."
"Of course you are," he told her kindly. "Shall you wait here until the children come down to breakfast?"
Mrs. Gault looked at Araminta, who said in her matter-of-fact way, "I'll call them about now usually they have to be ready to leave by eight o'clock, but there's some kind of meeting for loth schools today and they don't have to be there before half-past nine. Mrs. Sloane takes them."
The professor said easily, "I'll drop them off as I go. Remind me to ring Mrs. Sloane."
Araminta said, "Yes, Professor Lister," and nipped upstairs to call the children; their mother could hear their indignant voices at being roused, followed by reassuring bumps and thumps as they got themselves out of their beds.
Araminta, already back in the kitchen, got out the frying-pan, bacon, eggs and mushrooms, and busied herself at the Aga, and when she would have collected plates and cutlery for Mrs. Gault and the professor he got to his feet. "I'll do that-do you want bread cut for toast?"
"Yes, please." Araminta inspected her rashers and gave the mushrooms a prod, and Mrs. Gault looked with astonishment at her brother, who, to the best of her knowledge, was the least domesticated of men.
"Perhaps you would fill the kettle," said Araminta. "The children will be down in a few minutes now."
A sensible girl, reflected Lydia, no nonsense about her, and she was making no effort to attract Jason's attention, although she was perfectly polite towards him. As for him-despite the coolness of his manner towards her, he was by no means indifferent… Interesting, thought Lydia, and turned a smiling face to the door as her children bounded in.
The meal was naturally enough a boisterous one, both children talking together and asking questions, wanting to know everything at once. If the professor noticed that they ignored Araminta almost entirely, he said nothing, and when Gloria said suddenly, "I've torn my leotard, Araminta, and I have to have it for school," and added, "It's on my bed," he watched Araminta slip away with a murmured excuse, unnoticed by the other three.
Presently Gloria, aware of his eyes upon her, looked across the table at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you old enough to do your own sewing?" he mildly wanted to know, and she had the grace to blush.
"Araminta's here to look after us," she muttered, "she's paid…"
"Anyone who works gets paid," observed her uncle blandly. "I get paid too."
Araminta came back presently, while they were sitting and talking at the table. "Your leotard's on the bed," she said, and began to clear the table. "And will you both go and make your beds quickly? Your mother is tired and I've no doubt that she will want to rest today."
"But you're here," said Jimmy. "You can do the beds… "
"Well, no. You see, now your mother is home there is no need for me to stay. I must get packed I'd like to get an afternoon train."
The children gaped at her. "But you can't; Patty's not here."
"I'm sure she'll be back very soon, and Mrs. Pretty comes today." Araminta looked at Mrs. Gault. "Everything's as you would like it, I hope. I'll do any shopping this morning, while Mrs. Pretty is here. The arrangement was that I should stay until you returned."
"Of course," Mrs. Gault agreed. "I'm sure everything is in apple-pie order. I'll phone Patty and see when we can expect her back." She smiled at Araminta. "I am so grateful to you, especially as you've had to stay much longer than you had expected. Of course you can go this afternoon-you must be anxious to get home."
The professor hadn't said a word, sitting in his chair listening. Now he spoke. "Would you consider staying overnight, Miss Smith? That would be a great help to my sister. I'll come for you tomorrow morning-around nine o'clock, if that suits you?"
"That is very kind of you," said Araminta "but it's a long way to come just to fetch me, ancd there are plenty of trains."
"Ah, but I need to see somebody at Odstock Hospital-the appointment is for eight o'clock, which gives me ample time to drive on here by nine." He glanced at her. "Not too early for you?"
"Me? No-no, of course not. Thank you very much, Professor Lister."
"Oh, good," said Mrs. Gault. "I must confess it will be nice to have you here until tomorrow." She smiled at her brother. "Thank you for bringing me home, Jason, and for taking such good care of everything while I was away-it was like a
nightmare, you know."
"Over now, my dear." He stood up. "If Jimmy and Gloria are ready, we'll be on our way. I'll see you both tomorrow."
He collected the dogs, called to the children, kissed his sister's cheek, gave Araminta a brief nod and drove away.
Mrs. Gault went upstairs to unpack while Araminta washed up and tidied the kitchen. Jason had been very carefully off-hand with Araminta and yet there was something…
""Miss Smith", indeed!" She snorted. "She's really rather sweet."
Mrs. Pretty came presently, delighted to be the first in the village to know that Mrs. Gault was back, and lavish in her praise of Araminta's housekeeping. "Proper little housewife she is, and looked after the kids too."
She drank the strong tea and started on the kitchen, and Mrs. Gault and Araminta took a tray of coffee into the sitting-room. "I've kept accounts of what I've spent," said Araminta, "and the rest of the money Professor Lister gave me is in the dresser drawer."
Mrs. Gault wasn't interested in the household expenses. "Tell me, my dear, were the children good at their uncle's? Poor man, he's used to a quiet life when he's not working. I'd better phone Patty."
She came back into the room looking frankly relieved. "Patty's mother died two days ago. I'm so sorry for Patty, but her mother was old and had Alzheimer's disease, so it was a happy release. Patty is coming back directly after the funeral-in three days' time." She added apologetically, "She's been with us for years . I'm lost without her."
Araminta said, "The children love her, don't they? It's nice that she has you to come back to and to know that she's wanted."
"I'm eternally grateful to you, Araminta. I hope being here hasn't disrupted your life in any way?"