At Odds With Love. Betty Neels
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The house was very quiet when they had gone away in Jimmy’s van; Blandford wasn’t far and although Mr Chepstow hadn’t given any day or time in his letter surely he would see Bessy. To make sure, Jane picked up the telephone and explained to the solicitor.
‘Just a little matter of her signature,’ he explained, ‘I don’t know if she will stay on at the house; if not she will be glad to have the money.’
‘She will be leaving,’ said Jane. ‘Basil is getting married and coming to live here within the next week or so.’
‘And you?’
‘I shall be going too.’
‘Dear, dear, that isn’t at all what your dear grandmother intended. Have you somewhere to go, Jane? And what about a job—can you get your post at the hospital back?’
‘Well, no, it’s been filled for months, but I shall be quite all right. I’ll let you know my address once I’m settled.’
She sounded so confident that he put the phone down with a sigh of relief. It upset him that Basil should disregard his grandmother’s wishes but there was nothing much he could do about it and, as it had turned out, there would be no need. Jane, he remembered, had had a ward sister’s post for a year or two before she had gone to live with her grandmother, quite a well paid job; she would certainly have sufficient funds to see her through the next week or so; all the same, he would make sure that she had the five hundred pounds as quickly as possible.
Jane tidied the kitchen and went back to the drawing-room. Until now she had done everything in a kind of bad dream but the sight of Bruno sitting before the fire with Percy and Simpkin each side of him turned the dream into reality. She knelt beside them, glad of the warmth of the fire. ‘Don’t worry, my dears,’ she begged them. ‘I’ll think of something. Not the local kennels; Basil would soon find out about that. There’s no one in the village—everyone I know has dogs and cats with no room for more.’
She got up and fetched pen and paper and started to do sums. Boarding them would cost money and she hadn’t a great deal; besides, they couldn’t stay shut up forever. She could try one of the animal sanctuaries, somewhere where they could all be together. She would have to go back to London and go to an agency and get a job as quickly as possible and then take her time applying for a post at one of the larger hospitals. She would have to pack too … The phone rang and she went to answer it. It was Basil.
‘We’ve stopped for coffee,’ he told her, and added, ‘And we have just remembered to remind you not to take anything which isn’t yours—’
‘How dare you?’ said Jane and banged down the receiver just as the front doorbell rang.
She had gone pale with rage and flung the door open, not caring who was there or why; it could be a gang of thieves for all she cared.
It was Professor van der Vollenhove, and at the sight of him the unhappiness and misery and fear of the future welled up and choked her. She burst into tears and flung her not inconsiderable person on to his massive chest.
The professor remained calm, a comforting arm around her shoulders, a hand offering a spotless white handkerchief, and, since she seemed incapable of using it, he mopped her wet face. Not that it made much difference; she went on sniffing and sobbing into his waistcoat for some minutes but presently she blew her charming nose and dried her eyes and disentangled herself.
‘Oh, I’m so ashamed. Do forgive me, it’s just …’ A large tear trickled down her cheek. ‘He’s going to have them put down,’ she mumbled, and a second tear started down the other cheek. Despite her pink nose and tear-stained face she still looked lovely. She looked up into his impassive face. ‘She loved them …’
He took the sopping handkerchief from her. ‘Come inside and tell me about it?’ he suggested.
A firm hand between her shoulderblades urging her on, Jane led him into the drawing-room. She said on a watery hiccup, ‘So sorry—if you will sit down I’ll make some coffee.’
For answer he swept her into a chair and sat down opposite her, his long legs stretched out before him, the epitome of relaxation—something the animals must have sensed, for they came to look up into his face and then sat themselves tidily at his feet.
‘I have a call to make fairly near here; I came to offer my condolences. I was sorry to hear about Mrs Wesley, a charming and brave old lady.’ When Jane nodded he said, ‘Begin at the beginning and tell me what has gone wrong.’
He was the last person she would have confided in; she had gained the impression that he hadn’t liked her, but now it all came tumbling out, a bit muddled though she made a brave effort to tell him nothing but the facts. Only when she told him about having Bruno and Percy and Simpkin put down did she falter. ‘You see,’ she added, ‘there’s nothing to stop Basil—it’s all his …’ She looked up. ‘It’s kind of you to listen. I’ll go and make the coffee.’
‘Let us forget the coffee for the moment.’ He sounded coolly friendly. ‘I think that I am able to help you.’ At her look of delighted relief he said, ‘You will as well be helping me and you will get the worst of the bargain. I am on my way to call upon an old friend of my mother: Lady Grimstone—perhaps you know her?’
‘Yes—well, Granny did.’
‘Then you will know that she is an irascible old lady with an uncertain temper and emphysema. She has had a companion for years—a Miss Smithers—badly in need of a holiday. So far, none of the applicants to replace her for a month has proved suitable. You might do.’ He smiled thinly. ‘It needs to be someone who needs work badly; she is extremely difficult. There is one advantage, however—Miss Smithers has two cats and Lady Grimstone has a very old basset hound; I believe she would have no objection to your having these small creatures with you.’
‘You mean that, really?’
He gave her a look which chilled the sudden glow of hope welling up in her insides.
‘I am not in the habit of speaking lightly, Miss Fox.’
She said hastily, ‘No, no, I’m sure you’re not, Professor. If you think I might do I’ll apply for the post. I’m most grateful …’
‘You may regret saying that.’ He looked her over in his cool way. ‘So now go and do something to your face and hair but show me first where I can make coffee.’
‘You’ll make the coffee?’ Her amazement was transparent.
His faintly mocking look stopped her from saying anything else; she led him to the kitchen, pointed out the coffee-pot, the Aga and the coffee-mill on the wall. Let him do his best, she thought, skimming through the door to her room.
She felt herself again, able to cope, and although she flinched away from the memory of her outburst she had the good sense to know that it was something which sooner or later would have occurred. She washed her face and dashed on some powder and some lipstick, brushed her hair smoothly into a French pleat and searched her wardrobe for something suitable to wear. She chose a cotton chambray dress the colour of clotted cream with a neat collar and shaped yoke and a thick knit cardigan to wear with it, one she had knitted herself while sitting with her grandmother. She hoped that she looked reasonably like a companion as she ran back downstairs to the kitchen and found the professor pouring coffee into two mugs.
He scarcely looked at her. ‘I need to be back in town by four o’clock,’ he observed and handed her a mug.
‘I don’t suppose Lady Grimstone will take very long interviewing me,’ ventured Jane.
‘Probably not; we should be away from there in plenty of time. I’ll drop you off here as I go.’
‘Won’t that take you out of your way?’
‘No. I can take the A354 to Salisbury and pick up the A303.’ His tone made it plain that it wasn’t her concern. She drank her coffee and told him meekly that she was