Which indeed she did. Mr Brimshaw, arriving shortly afterwards, wished her a mumbled ‘Happy Christmas’ and went along to his office to deal with the paperwork, and Eustacia set about putting the place to rights, turning out cupboards and then making coffee. The telephone went incessantly but there were no emergencies; at one o’clock the second porter took over and Mr Brimshaw handed over to one of the assistants. Eustacia went to get her outdoor things, wished the porter a civil goodbye and made for the door just as one of the hospital porters came in with a parcel.
‘Miss Crump?’ he enquired. ‘I was to deliver this before you left.’
‘Me?’ Eustacia beamed at him. ‘You’re sure it’s for me?’
‘Name’s Crump, isn’t it?’
He went away again and she tucked the gaily packed box under her arm and went home, speculating all the way as to who it was from.
But first when she got home there was her present from her grandfather to open—warm red slippers; just what she needed, she declared, during the cold months of winter. After he had admired his waistcoat and gloves she opened her package. It had been wrapped in red paper covered with robins and tied with red ribbons, and she gave a great sigh of pleasure when she saw its contents: an extravagantly large box of handmade chocolates, festooned with yet more ribbons and covered in brocade. There was a card with it, written in a childish hand, ‘With Love from Oliver and Teddy.’
‘Well, really,’ said Eustacia, totally surprised. ‘But I only met them once, remember, Grandfather, at Kew…’
‘Children like to give presents to the people they like.’
‘I must write and thank them—only I don’t know where they live.’
‘They’re with their uncle, aren’t they? And with luck someone at the hospital will surely know his address.’
‘Yes, of course. What a lovely surprise. Have one while I start the dinner.’ She paused on her way to the kitchen. ‘It must have cost an awful lot, and they’re only children.’
‘I dare say they’ve been saving up—you know what children are.’ Her grandfather chose a chocolate with care and popped it into his mouth. ‘They’re delicious.’
They had their dinner presently and afterwards Eustacia went to church, and went back home to watch television until bedtime. Without saying anything to her grandfather she had hired a set, to his great delight, for he spent a good part of the day on his own and she guessed that he was sometimes lonely. If, later on, she couldn’t afford it, she could always return it—although, seeing the old man’s pleasure in it, she vowed to keep it at all costs. It was an extravagance, she supposed, and the money should perhaps be saved against a rainy day or the ever-worrying chance that she might lose her job. On the other hand, it was their one extravagance and did much to lighten their uneventful lives.
She went back to work the next day after their lunch. There were two of the staff on duty, cross-matching blood for patients due for operations the following day, doing blood counts and checking test meals. Eustacia made tea for them both, had a cup herself and busied herself restocking the various forms on each bench. That done, she put out clean towels, filled the soap containers and cleaned the sinks which had been used. She was to stay until six o’clock when the night porter would take over, and once the others had gone it was very quiet. She was glad when he came to spend a few minutes in cheerful talk before she took herself off home.
Everyone was short-tempered in the morning—too much to eat and drink, too little sleep and a generally jaundiced outlook on life cast gloom over the entire department. Miss Bennett found fault with very nearly everything, until Eustacia felt like flinging a tray of dishes and bottles on to the floor and walking out for good. She held her tongue and looked meek, and to her great surprise at the day’s end Miss Bennett rather grudgingly admitted that on the whole her work was quite satisfactory, adding sternly that there was to be no more slackness now that the festive season was over. ‘And a good thing it is,’ she observed. It was obvious to Eustacia that the poor woman found no joy in her life. Such a pity, one never knew what was round the corner.
It was halfway through January when she got home one evening to find, to her great astonishment, Sir Colin Crichton sitting all at ease opposite her grandfather’s armchair by the open fire. He got up when she went in and wished her a polite good evening, and she replied with a hint of tartness. She wasn’t looking at her best; it had been a busy day and she was tired, and, conscious that her hair was untidy and her face badly needed fresh make-up, the frown she turned upon him was really quite fierce and he smiled faintly.
‘I came to talk to you,’ he said to surprise her, ‘but if you are too tired…?’
She took up the challenge. ‘I am not in the least tired,’ she assured him, and then said suddenly, ‘Oh—is it about my job?’
He had sat down again and she glanced at her grandfather, who, beyond smiling at her when she kissed him, had remained silent.
‘Er—yes, to a certain extent.’
She took an indignant breath. She had worked hard at a job she really didn’t like and now she supposed she was to get the sack, although why someone as exalted as Sir Colin had to do it was beyond her.
He said in his quiet, deliberate voice, ‘No, it is not what you think it is, Miss Crump, but it would please me very much if you would give up your job in the path lab and come to work for me.’
‘Come to work for you?’ she echoed his words in a voice squeaky with surprise. And then added, ‘Why?’
‘My nephews,’ he explained. ‘They have both had flu, tonsillitis and nasty chests. It is obvious that London doesn’t agree with them, at least until they are fit again. I feel responsible for them while their mother and father are away, but I am rarely at home during the day and there is no question of their going back to school for several weeks. I have a home at Turville, just north of Henley. A very small village and quiet— I don’t go there as often as I would wish. I should like the boys to go there and I would be glad if you would go with them. They have taken to you in a big way, you know.’ He smiled his charming smile. ‘There is a housekeeper there, her husband does the garden and the odd jobs but they are both elderly and the boys need young company—a kind of elder sister? I think that you would fill that role exactly…’
Eustacia had her mouth open to speak and he went on calmly, ‘No, don’t interrupt—let me finish… I am not sure how long it might be before my brother returns—but at least two months, and at the end of that time you would have sufficient experience to get a post in a similar capacity. There is plenty of room for everyone; the Samwayses have their own quarters on the ground floor at the back of the house and adjoining it is a bedroom which Mr Crump could use. You yourself, Miss Crump, would have a room next to the boys on the first floor. Now as to salary…’ He mentioned a sum which made Eustacia gape at him.
‘That’s twice as much as I’m getting,’ she told him.
‘I can assure you that you will earn every penny of it. Do you know anything about little boys?’
‘No, I’m afraid not.’