Never too Late. Betty Neels

the first time Benedict spoke. ‘That would hardly become a parson’s daughter,’ he observed mildly, ‘and perhaps there’s no need. It just so happens that I’m badly in need of a general factotum—someone to type—you do type, I hope? My English letters, make sure that I keep appointments, do the flowers, keep an eye on the household and my small daughter. Not much of a job, I’m afraid, but a very necessary one.’

      Prudence had her eyes on her face. She said slowly: ‘You’re married?’

      He smiled a little. ‘A widower—Sibella is six years old. I live in an old-fashioned rambling house which I am told is sheer hell to cope with, in Appeldoorn.’

      ‘Holland?’ queried Prudence.

      ‘That’s right,’ he answered her seriously, although his eyes were dancing. ‘Although I spend a good deal of time over here. You could start at once or within a few days, just as you wish.’ And as the doorbell rang, ‘You’ll have to decide here and now; that sounds like Tony.’

      Nancy had gone to open the door and Tony followed her into the room. His eyes swept the rather untidy table and came to rest on Prudence. ‘I see you’re enjoying yourself, Prudence,’ he remarked, and nodded to James and Benedict. ‘Lucky little girl, aren’t you, while I spend my days hard at work!’

      She didn’t answer him, she looked across the table at Benedict. She said very clearly: ‘Yes.’ Being called a little girl had been the last straw; she stood five feet seven in her stockings and she was a big girl.

      James broke the silence with some remark about Tony’s trip and they listened to his pompous reply before Nancy asked: ‘Will you have a drink, Tony? Or I’ll make some fresh coffee. James and Benedict were just going to wash up in the kitchen—I expect you two would like to be alone for a bit.’

      Prudence cast her sister a telling glance, but before she could answer Tony said: ‘As to that, I don’t give much for these sentimental partings and I won’t stay for coffee—there’s a man I have to see before I leave…’

      ‘I’m not going to marry you,’ said Prudence suddenly, and the four of them looked at her, Nancy and James with sympathy Tony with outraged astonishment and Benedict van Vinke with faint amusement.

      ‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ said Tony sharply.

      ‘It’s not rubbish.’ Prudence took the ring off her finger and put it on the table. ‘We could have been married a dozen times in these last four years, Tony, and now it’s too late.’

      ‘You’ve decided to be a dutiful daughter and live at home?’ he asked with a faint sneer.

      ‘No, I’ve got a job.’

      ‘You’ve never done a day’s work in your life—what can you do?’

      ‘Prudence has agreed to join my household as a personal assistant to me and companion to my small daughter.’ Benedict’s voice was quiet, but there was a hint of steel in it which made Tony pause before he answered.

      He said stiffly: ‘We don’t need anyone interfering in our affairs. I’ll talk to Prudence.’ He turned to her. ‘Come into another room and we’ll settle this once and for all.’

      ‘No need—it’s settled. I’m sorry, Tony, but I’m not the right wife for you—you must know that, because if I had been, you’d have married me years ago.’ She picked up the ring. ‘Here you are. I hope you have a successful trip.’

      She went out of the room rather quickly and went into the kitchen and shut the door. Even though she knew she had done the right thing, it was a little frightening to find herself alone after almost four years, and now she had committed herself to a job she knew nothing about in a country she had never been to with a man she had met only for the second time that evening. She felt lightheaded with relief and regret for what might have been, and at the same time scared of the future.