* * *
Day followed day, and Gloria and Jimmy showed no sign of liking her any better. True, they did what she asked them to do, fell in with her suggestions as to how to spend their days and treated her with politeness at any meal when their uncle was present. They had, for some reason, made up their minds not to like her, and in a way she could understand that; she was a stranger, wished on them at a moment’s notice and instantly to be forgotten the moment they returned home to their mother’s and Patty’s casual spoiling.
It was towards the end of the week when Professor Lister received a phone call from his sister. She had no idea when she would be coming home; her husband was still very ill and it was impossible for her to leave him. ‘I know how awkward it is for you to have the children,’ she told him. ‘Send them back in time for school—Patty should be back by now; she can look after them. That girl—what’s her name?—Araminta can take them back and hand them over.’
‘Don’t worry about them,’ he told her, ‘I’ll see that they get back home and settled in with Patty. I’m sorry Tom is still not fit, but stay as long as you need to—I’ll drive down whenever I can and keep an eye on the children.’
‘Bless you.’ Lydia Gault rang off and he put the phone down and went to sit in his armchair. He would have to make time to drive the children back on Saturday and Araminta Smith would have to go with them. He could bring her back that same day and she could return home…
He got up presently and went to tell the three of them, who were playing a rather rowdy game of Monopoly in the sitting-room.
His news was received with mixed feelings by the children. They were troubled that their father was still ill and their mother wouldn’t be coming home for a time; on the other hand they were pleased at the idea of going home again and returning to school and the loving care of Patty, who let them do exactly what they wanted. The professor watched their faces with a wry smile before he turned to Araminta.
‘You will be kind enough to return with the children?’ The question was a statement, politely put. ‘I will drive you back in the evening.’
She agreed; she had telephoned Alice during the week and told her that she would be back at the weekend, listening patiently to the flood of complaints before putting the receiver down.
‘I’ll phone Patty,’ said the professor. ‘She’s probably back by now—if not, I’ll phone her at home.’
An urgent call from the hospital prevented him from doing that; it was only after his ward round that he remembered to do it. He pushed aside the notes he was writing in Theatre Sister’s office and picked up the phone. There was no reply from his sister’s home, but he had Patty’s home number with him. He phoned that, waiting patiently while it rang.
Patty’s soft Scottish voice said, ‘Hello?’
He said at once, ‘Patty? Jason Lister here. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Mrs Gault. She won’t be able to return at present—Mr Gault isn’t so well. I’ll bring the children back on Saturday—so could you come back as soon as you can and open up the house? I know it’s short notice, but perhaps you could take the night sleeper or fly back to Bristol or Exeter. Take a car, and don’t spare the expense. I’ll see to that——’
‘Professor Lister, I can’t—my mother’s desperately ill. I cannot leave her—you must understand that—I was going to phone Mrs Gault when she got back. What is to be done?’
‘Don’t worry, Patty, we’ll brush through. The young lady who has been looking after Jimmy and Gloria is still with us. I’ll get her to go back with them and stay until either you or Mrs Gault get back. You stay and look after your mother.’
‘You’re sure, sir? I’ll come the moment I can.’
‘Stay as long as you need to,’ he told her, ‘and let me know how you get on.’ He hung up; it was providential that Araminta Smith was still with them. He would see her as soon as he got home.
Which was late that evening. The children were in bed and Araminta was sitting uneasily in the drawing-room when he got back. She didn’t much like sitting there on her own but Buller had told her that the professor wanted her to make use of the room whenever she wished. One more day, she was thinking, then back home to a disgruntled Alice and the careless affection of her father, eager to know how much she had earned. The money had been hard-earned too; true, she had lived in the lap of luxury in this lovely house, but not for one moment had the children shown her any sign of friendliness.
As for Professor Lister, he treated her with an impersonal politeness which held no more warmth than when they had first met.
She got to her feet as he came in, the dogs at his heels. Her ‘Good evening, Professor Lister,’ was quietly said. ‘I was just going to bed. You must be tired…’
‘Yes, but please don’t go for a moment. I have something to say to you.’
She sat down again and he sat in his chair opposite to her. She looked at his tired face. ‘You should go to your bed,’ she told him in her matter-of-fact way, ‘but perhaps you are hungry too. Shall I go and see if Mrs Buller could warm up some soup?’
‘I believe Buller has the matter in hand, but it is kind of you to bother. Perhaps you will have a drink with me first?’
He got up and poured her a glass of sherry and gave himself some whisky. ‘We have a problem,’ he told her, ‘and I must rely on you to solve it.’
She listened without interruption, and when he had finished she said simply, ‘How very unfortunate. Of course I will do as you ask, only I must go home and get some clothes—I only brought enough for a week with me.’
‘Certainly. I’ll drive you home tomorrow—I should be home round about four o’clock. That will give you time to pack whatever you need to take there and decide what you wish to take with you. I have no idea how long you may need to stay, but I would suggest that you think in terms of two weeks.’ He saw the doubt in her face. ‘That presents difficulties? Your family?’
‘My sister isn’t very used to running the house.’
‘She is alone?’
‘No. No—but my father is away all day.’ She would have stopped there but the faint enquiry in his face forced her to go on. ‘She’s delicate.’
He said kindly, ‘Well, suppose we go to your home and see what she says; if necessary I could arrange for her to have some help. May I ask in what way your sister is delicate?’
‘Well, the doctor told her she would have to take things easy.’
‘This was recent, this advice?’
Araminta wrinkled her forehead in thought. ‘Well, no—about two years ago.’
‘Has she been taking things easy since then? Does she see her doctor regularly?’
‘Not since then.’ Araminta glanced at him as she said it, and surprised a look on his face; she wasn’t sure what the look was because it had gone at once. She must have imagined it.
The children were upset, looking at her as though it were all her fault. She was thankful when the professor came home the next afternoon, his calm, logical acceptance of the situation allowing them to take a more cheerful view of it.
‘I’ll phone each evening,’ he promised them, ‘and if I can manage it I’ll come down at the weekend, and as soon as I have any news I’ll let you know. I know you both want to help your mother and father, and the best way of doing that is to give them no cause to worry about you. Will you get your things packed up while I take Miss Smith to her home to get what she needs? We’ll go after breakfast tomorrow—that will give us time to do any shopping and air the house. When your mother and father are back home, I promise we’ll all have a marvellous celebration.’
He had nothing to