The men joined them quite soon and Mrs Avery signalled with her eyebrows to Matt that he should join them, only to be frustrated by Jake Royle, who somehow contrived to get there first and stayed inextricably with them until she was forced to circulate amongst her other guests.
Which left Annis on the sofa, rather apart from the others, and Jake Royle sitting beside her, half turned towards her so that he could watch her face.
‘Was the vet able to do anything for Nancy?’ he enquired in such a friendly voice that she found herself replying readily enough. They discussed the donkey at some length, and then, almost imperceptibly, he led the conversation round to her family and eventually to herself. He had discovered quite a lot about her before she realised what was happening and closed her pretty mouth with a suddenness which made him chuckle silently. She shot him a look as fiery as her hair and asked with something of a snap: ‘And when do you return to New Zealand, Mr Royle?’
‘I’m called Jake,’ he reminded her gently, ‘and I don’t really know when I shall go there again. I live in England, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t. Do you like New Zealand?’
‘Very much. Have you travelled at all, Annis?’
She had to admit that beyond a week in Brittany some years previously, and a long weekend in Brussels with a school friend, she hadn’t.
‘You would like to travel?’ he persisted.
‘Well, of course. I should think everyone would, some places more than others, of course.’
‘And those places?’
She knitted her strong brows. There was no end to the tiresome man’s questions, and why couldn’t someone come and take him away? ‘Oh, Canada and Norway and Sweden and Malta and the Greek Isles and Madeira.’
He said lightly: ‘Let’s hope you have the opportunity to visit some or all of them at some time or another.’
‘Yes—well, I hope so too. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must have a word with Colonel Avery about…’ She had no idea what; he helped her out with a casual ‘Yes, of course—time passes so quickly when one is enjoying a pleasant talk.’
She got up and he got up too, and she edged away, relieved to see that Miriam, Doctor Bennett’s daughter, was poised to take her place. From the safety of the other end of the room, she saw the pair of them obviously enjoying each other’s company. The sight quite annoyed her.
Half-term finished the next day and Annis was alone once more then with her mother and father and old Mrs Wells who did for them twice a week. She had come to the Rectory, year in, year out, for a long time and her work—doing the rough, she called it—had by tacit consent been honed down to jobs like polishing the brass, sitting comfortably at the kitchen table, or peeling the potatoes for lunch. But no one thought of telling her that she might retire if she wanted to. For one thing she didn’t want to; she lived alone in the village and the Rectory supplied an interest in her life; besides, she would have been missed by all the family, who cheerfully cleared up after her, found her specs, gave her cups of tea and took the eyes out of the potatoes when she wasn’t looking. She was devoted to all of them and went regularly to church, besides attending all the jumble sales, where she purchased her wardrobe, dirt cheap, three times a year.
She sat at the kitchen table now, mending a great rent in the sheet James had put his feet through, while Annis juggled with the washing machine. It was behaving temperamentally this morning, making a terrible din, oozing water from somewhere underneath, and having long bouts of doing nothing at all. Mrs Fothergill, coming into the kitchen to make the coffee, gave it a harassed look. ‘Is it going to break down?’ she shouted to Annis above the din.
‘Shouldn’t think so. I’ll give it a rest before I put the next load in.’
Mrs Fothergill nodded. ‘Yes, dear. Coffee will be ready in five minutes. We’re in the drawing room.’
They almost never used the drawing room; it was a handsome apartment, so large and lofty that it was impossible to keep it really warm. Annis supposed her mother was turning out the sitting room. She made Mrs Wells the pot of strong tea she always fancied mid-morning, emptied the washing machine and went along to the drawing room.
She opened the door and went in, and only then realised that there were visitors—Matt, who didn’t really count, Mr Royle and a small, elderly lady, almost completely round as to figure and with a pair of black eyes sparkling in a round face.
Matt and Jake Royle got up and Matt said cheerfully: ‘Hullo, Annis. You look as though you’re doing a hard day’s work. We’ve brought one of my aunts over—it was Jake’s idea. She arrived quite late yesterday evening and went to bed, too tired for the dinner party. Aunt Dora, this is Annis—a pity you’ve missed the others.’
Annis put a hand up to her hair, realised that it was in a hopeless mess anyway, and offered the hand instead to Matt’s aunt.
‘You could have told me,’ she complained mildly to Matt. She smiled at the little lady. ‘I would have tidied myself up.’
‘You’ll do very well as you are. Matt didn’t tell you my name. It’s Duvant—I’m the Colonel’s sister and a widow.’ She accepted a cup of coffee from Mrs Fothergill and patted the sagging sofa she was sitting on. ‘Come and sit by me. Your mother’s an angel to receive us so kindly, too. You must wish us all to kingdom come, but men never think about getting the housework done or cooking lunch, do they? And somehow I had the impression from Jake that you roamed out of doors a good deal…’
Annis gave Jake a look of dislike, which became thunderous when he smiled at her. How like him; never done a hand’s turn in his life probably, and had no idea what it was like to run an unwieldy old house like the Rectory. She said politely: ‘I like being out of doors. Do you know this part of the country well, Mrs Duvant?’
‘I did in my youth, but things have changed even here. I’ve been living abroad for some years, but I fancied coming back here again. There is a house in Bath, which belonged to my husband’s family. I think I shall go there for a while.’ She paused to smile at Annis. ‘This coffee’s delicious—I think I’ll have another cup if I may?’ She beamed across at Mrs Fothergill. ‘I expect you grind your own beans?’ she asked.
The two ladies embarked on an animated discussion and Jake, refusing more coffee, suggested that they might take a look at Nancy. And since Matt agreed at once there was nothing for it but for Annis to get her coat and boots and go with them. ‘Though I can’t really spare the time,’ she told them rather crossly.
‘We’ll hang out the washing for you,’ offered Jake.
‘Thank you,’ said Annis haughtily, ‘but I can manage very well for myself.’
They spent a little time with Nancy, pronounced her very much better and started back across the yard. At the back door Annis paused. ‘I expect you’ll want to join Mrs Duvant—I’m going back to the kitchen.’
They neither of them took any notice of her but went along to the kitchen too, collected the old-fashioned basket loaded with damp sheets and towels and bore it off to the washing line at the back of the house. It hadn’t been any use protesting; Matt had told her not to be so bossy and Jake Royle had merely smiled. She hadn’t liked the smile much, there had been a hint of mockery about it.
She