Claudia noticed that he didn’t answer that, merely thanked her mother for her invitation. ‘If I might have a word with Dr Willis?’
They left the two men, returning when they heard them in the hall.
Mrs. Ramsay shook hands. ‘We’re so grateful to you. Uncle did so wish to see you again—although I’m sure you are a very busy man.’
He said gravely, ‘The Colonel is going to die very soon now, Mrs Ramsay; he is content, and in no pain, and in Dr Willis’s good hands.’
He turned to Claudia. ‘I was bidden to tell you to read the editorial in The Times before he has his supper.’ His hand was firm and cool and comforting. ‘He’s fond of you, you know.’
He left then, getting into his car and driving back to his house to eat the meal Cork had ready for him and then go to his study and concentrate on the notes of the patients upon whom he would be operating in the morning. Before that, he paused to think about the Colonel. A courageous old man hidden behind that crusty manner. He hoped that he would die quietly in his sleep.
Great-Uncle William died while Claudia was still reading the editorial. So quietly and peacefully that it wasn’t until she had finished it that she realised.
She said softly, ‘You had a happy talk about lilies, didn’t you, Uncle William? I’m glad he came.’
She bent to kiss the craggy old face and went downstairs to tell her mother.
CHAPTER TWO
THE Colonel had been respected in the village; he had had no use for a social life or mere acquaintances, although he had lifelong friends.
Claudia had very little time to grieve. Her mother saw the callers when they came, arranged things with the undertaker and planned the flowers and the gathering of friends and family after the funeral, but it was left to Claudia to carry out her wishes, answer the telephone and make a tidy pile of the letters which would have to be answered later.
Dr Willis was a tower of strength, of course, but he was more concerned with her mother than anything else, and Mrs Ramsay leaned on him heavily for comfort and support. She needed both when, on the day before the funeral, the cousin who was to inherit the house arrived.
He was a middle-aged man, with austere good looks and cold eyes. He treated them with cool courtesy, expressed a token regret at the death of the Colonel and went away to see the colonel’s solicitor. When he returned he requested that Mrs Ramsay and Claudia should join him in the morning room.
He stood with his back to the fire and begged them to sit down. Already master of the house, thought Claudia, and wondered what was coming.
He spoke loudly, as though he thought that they were deaf. ‘Everything seems to be in order. The will is not yet read, of course, but I gather that there are no surprises in it. I must return to York after the funeral, but I intend to return within two or three days. Monica—my wife—will accompany me and we will take up residence then. My house there is already on the market. You will, of course, wish to leave here as soon as possible.’
Claudia heard her mother’s quick breath. ‘Are you interested as to where we are going?’
‘It is hardly my concern.’ He eyed Claudia coldly. ‘You must have been aware for some time that the house would become my property and have some plans of your own.’
‘Well,’ said Claudia slowly, ‘whatever plans we may have had didn’t include being thrown out lock, stock and barrel at a moment’s notice.’ When he started to speak, she added, ‘No, let me finish. Let us know when you and your wife will arrive and we will be gone in good time. What about Tombs and Mrs Pratt and Jennie? I understand that they have been remembered in Uncle William’s will.’
‘I shall, of course, give them a month’s wages.’ He considered the matter for a moment. ‘It might be convenient if Mrs Pratt remained, and the girl. It will save Monica a good deal of trouble if the servants remain.’
‘And Tombs?’
‘Oh! He’s past an honest day’s work. He will have his state pension.’
‘Have you any children?’
He looked surprised. ‘No. Why do you ask?’
She didn’t answer that, merely said in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘Well, that’s a blessing, isn’t it?’ Then she added, ‘I’m glad you’re only a distant cousin.’
He said loftily, ‘I cannot understand you…’
‘Well, of course you can’t. But never mind that. Is that all? We’ll see you at dinner presently.’
She saw him go red in the face as she got up and urged her mother out of the room.
In the hall, her mother said, ‘Darling, you were awfully rude.’
‘Mother, he’s going to throw Tombs out, not to mention us. He’s the most awful man I’ve ever met. And I’m sure Mrs Pratt and Jennie won’t want to stay. I’m going to see them now.’
She gave her mother a reassuring pat on the shoulder. ‘Why don’t you go and phone Dr Willis and see what he says?’
Over a mug of powerfully brewed tea, she told Tombs and Mrs Pratt and Jennie what her cousin had said. They listened in growing unrest.
‘You’ll not catch me staying with the likes of him,’ said Mrs Pratt. She looked at Jennie. ‘And what about you, Jennie, girl?’
‘Me neither.’ They both looked at Tombs.
Claudia hadn’t repeated all her cousin had said about Tombs, but he had read between the lines.
‘I’ll never get another place at my age,’ he told them. ‘But I wouldn’t stay for all the tea in China.’
He turned a worried old face towards Claudia. ‘Where will you and madam go, Miss Claudia? It’s a scandal, turning you out of house and home.’
‘We’ll think of something, Tombs. We’ve several days to plan something.’
‘And Rob?’
‘He’ll come with us. I don’t know about Stokes…’
‘I’ll see that he gives in his notice,’ said Tombs. ‘What a mercy that the Colonel isn’t here; he would never have allowed these goings on.’
‘No, but you see this cousin of his has every right to do what he likes. If you intend to leave when we do, have you somewhere to go? Mother’s on the phone to Dr Willis, who may be able to help. If not then we will all put up at the Duck and Thistle in the village.’
‘I could go home,’ ventured Jennie. ‘Me mum’ll give me a bed for a bit.’ She sounded doubtful, and Claudia said, ‘Well, perhaps Dr Willis will know of someone local who needs help in the house. I think we’d all better start packing our things as soon as the funeral is over.’
She found her mother in the morning room. It was cold there, for the fire hadn’t been lighted, and Mrs Ramsay was walking up and down in a flurried way.
‘Mother, it’s too cold for you here, and you’re upset.’
‘No, dear, there’s nothing wrong—in fact quite the reverse. Only I’m not sure how to talk to you about it.’
Claudia sat her parent down on the sofa and settled beside her.
‘You talked to Dr Willis? He had some suggestions? Some advice?’
‘Well, yes…’
‘Mother, dear, does he want to marry you? I know you’re fond of each other…’
‘Oh, yes we are, love, but how can I possibly marry him and leave you and the others in