The Bachelor's Wedding

‘Mind? Why should I mind? I like cats—dogs too. How old is she?’

‘Daddy gave her to me on my sixth birthday.’

‘She’s very pretty, and your constant companion, I dare say.’

Gloria raked a comb through her hair. ‘I want my supper.’

‘Then let’s go and see if it’s ready.’

‘Jimmy and me, not you,’ said Gloria. ‘The kitchen staff eat later.’

‘We’d better get Jimmy,’ said Araminta mildly. She was used, after a year at the agency, to living in a kind of no man’s land while she was at a job. She had minded at first, but now she accepted whatever status was offered her.

Supper was ready, and Buller led the children down to the basement kitchen and then came back to where Araminta stood uncertainly in the hall.

‘The professor telephoned. He hopes you will dine with him if you are not too tired. In the meantime, once Jimmy and Gloria are in bed, perhaps you would care to sit in the drawing-room? There are the day’s papers there and some magazines.’

Araminta said bluntly, ‘Aren’t I supposed to take my meals in the kitchen?’

Buller said in a shocked voice, ‘Certainly not, Miss. I have my instructions from the professor.’

‘Well, thank you. I’ll sit in the room where we had tea, shall I, until the children are ready? Will Professor Lister be very late, do you think?’

‘There’s no telling, miss. But I should imagine within the next hour or so.’

So she went and sat by the fire and thought about her day and contemplated the week ahead of her. Jimmy and Gloria were nice young people, she was sure, but, she suspected, spoilt. They were of an age to be rude and thoughtless—she could remember being both at their age—but as long as she could keep them occupied and happy, and at the same time out of their uncle’s way unless he wished for their company, it shouldn’t be too bad.

They joined her presently and, when she suggested that they might go to bed since they had had a long day, they demurred.

Araminta made no attempt to change their minds; instead she suggested that they might write letters to their mother. ‘It takes nearly a week by airmail to get to that part of the world,’ she told them, hoping that she was right. ‘Your mother would be glad to hear from you both before she returns.’

‘We’ll phone her tomorrow,’ said Jimmy.

‘Even better,’ said Araminta. ‘You have the number?’

He gave her a sulky look. ‘No, of course not. Uncle Jason will know.’

‘Then you must be sure and get it from him before he leaves in the morning.’

She embarked on a tedious conversation about museums, some of which she suggested that they might go and see during the next few days. She was boring herself and, as she had intended, Jimmy and Gloria as well. It wasn’t long before they declared that they would go to bed. Gloria scooped up Tibs, wished Araminta a sullen goodnight, and went upstairs, and Jimmy, after taking Mutt to the kitchen, followed her. Araminta glanced at the little carriage-clock on the mantelpiece. Almost nine o’clock and no sign of Professor Lister. Her insides rumbled emptily; she would have liked to go to bed too, but not on an empty stomach.

It was very quiet in the house. Buller had suggested that she should sit in the drawing-room once the children were in bed, so she got up and went to the door. The hall was empty and softly lighted and she went a little way into it, wondering which door led to the drawing-room. When she had come to see the professor she had been shown into a room at the back of the house, but there were doors on either side as well. She went to the nearest, opened it, and poked her head round. The dining-room, the oval table laid for dinner, presumably, the silver and glass gleaming in the light of the wall-sconces. She shut the door and crossed the hall to open the one opposite. The library, and a very handsome one too, and, although there was no one there, there was a bright fire burning, and a reading-lamp lighted on one of the small tables drawn up beside the comfortable chairs.

The professor’s voice, soft in her ear, caused her to withdraw her head smartly. ‘Finding your way around, I hope, Miss Smith?’

She turned to face him, breathing rather hard. ‘You should never creep up on people,’ she advised him. ‘They might have weak hearts or something! Buller told me to sit in the drawing-room, if I would like that, but I haven’t found it yet.’

He towered over her, looking concerned and at the same time impatient.

‘My dear Miss Smith, my apologies—I trust no harm has been done to your heart or—er—something. The drawing-room is over here.’ He led the way across the hall and opened another door, and she went past him and stood waiting.

‘Please sit down. I dare say you’re starving, but do have a glass of sherry before we dine.’

‘Thank you. There’s another thing, Professor Lister. Buller gave me a message that I was to dine with you, but if I might put you right about that…I’m just someone from an agency, not your guest. Usually I have my meals in the kitchen with the staff.’

‘While you are in my house you will be so good as to take your meals with me and the children.’

He sounded annoyed, and she murmured, ‘Very well, Professor,’ in a placatory voice which he ignored.

‘They are here, I presume?’

‘Yes, there were no difficulties. They are upstairs in their rooms, but I can’t say they are asleep because I don’t know.’

‘Difficult, were they?’ he wanted to know. ‘Nice children, but spoilt. My sister got away on time? She’s not much good at organising things.’

‘I believe that everything went well. There’s just one thing—Jimmy has brought his dog with him and Gloria has her cat.’ She peeped at him to see how he was taking the news, but his face was impassive. ‘Your two dogs were out with the housemaid when we arrived, and she took them straight to the kitchen. I think they are still there, and so is Mutt—the Jack Russell.’

‘Yes, Buller told me when I phoned. You like dogs?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Good—they can join us then. They appear to have absorbed Jimmy’s dog. They are very good-natured beasts.’

He glanced up as Buller came in. ‘Dinner, Buller? Good—and let Goldie and Neptune out, will you?’

They were crossing the hall when the dogs came padding to meet them. They gave muffled barks as he greeted them, and then went to Araminta, looking up at her with liquid brown eyes, ready to be friends. She crouched down, the better to greet them, while their master stood patiently. She looked up, smiling, and saw the look on his face—impatience? Indifference? She wasn’t sure which of the two, but she got to her feet at once, feeling vaguely foolish. He must find her and the children a tiresome hindrance in his busy life.

‘You must wish me at Jericho,’ she said, and instantly wished the words unsaid.

‘My dear young lady, on the contrary. Much as I have an affection for my nephew and niece, the thought of overseeing their daily activities fills me with alarm. You are more than welcome in my house.’

He was smiling and his voice was kind, but she had the feeling that he was thinking about something else.

She was hungry and the food was delicious. Mrs Buller must be a cordon bleu cook: the parsnip soup with just a hint of garlic, the roast pheasant, followed by a treacle tart which melted in the mouth, were witnesses to that. Araminta, quite famished by now, did full justice to the lot, but when the professor suggested that they might have their coffee at the table, she excused herself on the grounds of tiredness. She bade him a cheerful goodnight and wished that she hadn’t seen the quick look of relief on his face; she was aware that she had hardly added to his evening’s enjoyment.

CHAPTER TWO

ARAMINTA slept soundly. She was far too sensible to lie awake and speculate about the following day. No doubt it would have its problems, more easily faced after a good night’s sleep. Waking up to find a cheerful young woman with a tea-tray and the information that breakfast was in half an hour was a splendid start to it.

The knowledge that their uncle was at home and expecting to see them at breakfast got Jimmy and Gloria out of bed, dressed and downstairs, without any coaxing on Araminta’s part.

He was already at the breakfast-table and he looked up from reading his post to wish them good morning, but as Araminta came into the room behind them he got out of his chair, enquired politely if she had slept well, and invited her to take a seat at the table.

It was Gloria who asked, ‘Oh, is Araminta going to have her meals with us?’

He offered Araminta a dish of scrambled eggs. ‘Naturally Miss Smith will do so—why do you ask, Gloria?’ His glance was frosty. ‘She has sole charge of both of you while you are here, and be good enough to remember that. I am delighted to have you here, but you will have to fit into my household. Mutt is in the garden with Goldie and Neptune. Jimmy, you will make yourself responsible for him, won’t you? And you, Gloria, will do everything necessary for Tibs. She should be safe enough in the garden as long as you are with her. You will be going out this morning, I dare say?’ He glanced at Araminta, who nodded. ‘Will you take all three dogs with you? The park is only a short walk away. I should be home about five o’clock. We might take the dogs in the car up to Hampstead Heath and give them a good run. Miss Smith will be glad of an hour to herself, I have no doubt.’

He gathered up his post. ‘I’ll give myself a day off on Saturday,’ he told them. ‘Decide what you want to do and let me know.’

The pair of them munched in silence after he had gone, then Jimmy said, ‘We’re quite old enough to look after ourselves…’

‘Well, of course you are,’ said Araminta briskly, ‘but perhaps as you are your uncle’s guests it would be polite to do as he asks. When we’ve had breakfast I’ll go and ask Mrs Buller what time she serves lunch, while you two see to Mutt and Tibs.’

They muttered an answer and she finished her breakfast without haste, talking cheerfully about this and that, ignoring their unfriendly faces, and presently went down to the kitchen, introduced herself to Mrs Buller and sat down at the kitchen table at that lady’s request so that they might discuss the days ahead.

‘Professor Lister don’t come ‘ome for ‘is lunch, miss, just now and then, like.’ Mrs Buller beamed at her and Araminta beamed back at the cosy little woman. ‘Suppose we say one o’clock sharp and tea at four o’clock? Dinner’s at half-past seven when ‘e’s ‘ome— leastways when ‘e isn’t called away. ‘E entertains off and on, you might say, got a lot of friends but no one in particular, if you get my meaning—not a ladies’ man, more’s the pity. ‘E’d make a fine husband. Likes ‘is books…’ Mrs Buller shook her grey head. ‘Now, as to lunch, ‘ow about a nice cheese soufflé? And the children will want chips and I’ll do some baby carrots and a chocolate pudding…’

‘That sounds lovely. I hope we aren’t giving you a lot of extra trouble, Mrs Buller.’

‘Bless you, miss, of course not.’

‘I’ll let Buller know when we go out and where we are going, shall I?’

‘Now that sounds like good sense, miss.’

The morning went rather better than she had expected; the three of them went to the park with the dogs as she had suggested and, although Gloria and Jimmy made no effort to be friendly, at least they fell in with her carefully worded suggestions, couched in a friendly no-nonsense voice. They gave the dogs a good run and got back with just enough time to tidy themselves for lunch. Over the chocolate pudding Araminta broached her suggestion for the afternoon. ‘I don’t know this part of London very well,’ she observed casually. ‘I wondered if we got on a bus and went somewhere—another park, perhaps? We could look around and have a cup of tea, and then bus back in time for your uncle’s return.’

The idea went down well, but they weren’t going to let her have it all her own way.

‘I’d rather go to Richmond,’ said Jimmy.

‘Why not? Would you like to take Mutt?’

He gave her a surprised look and she said calmly, ‘Well, he’s small enough to be carried if he gets tired, isn’t he? Perhaps Tibs ought to have a few minutes in the garden before we go. I’ll go and tell Buller—I don’t expect Goldie and Neptune will need to go out again until we get back.’

The afternoon was a success; they sat overlooking the river, admired the Thames and the country beyond, and found a tea-room before getting a bus back. It had been an expensive outing, reflected Araminta, sitting on her bed counting the change in her purse, but worth every penny. Any minute now the professor would be home, and he would take the children and the dogs on the promised trip to Hampstead Heath…

When she went downstairs he was at home, sitting in his chair by the fire with his dogs at his feet. He got up as she went in, and she said quickly, ‘Oh, you’re home,’ and blushed because it had been a silly thing to say. ‘The children will be down in a few minutes; they’re tidying themselves for the evening.’

‘Sit down, Miss Smith. No difficulties?’

‘None, thank you, Professor.’

The children came then, and she sat quietly while they recounted their day to him. ‘But we’re still going out with you, aren’t we, Uncle?’ asked Gloria.

‘Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Go and get your coats; we’ll go now.’ When they had gone he said, ‘Let me know how much you paid out on my behalf, Miss Smith,’ and when she murmured vaguely, he said, ‘Now if you please.’

So she told him. ‘It’s rather a lot of money, but they did enjoy their tea.’

‘A small price to pay for their enjoyment. Have they seemed worried about their mother and father?’

‘They haven’t said anything to me, but I wouldn’t expect them to…’

The children came back then. ‘Isn’t Araminta coming with us?’ asked Gloria.

‘No—I believe Miss Smith may be glad of an hour or so to herself.’ He smiled kindly at her and she gave a grateful murmur. She wished that he would stop calling her Miss Smith, it highlighted her mousy dullness.

* * *

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 say as he drove Araminta home; he wasn’t a talkative man and his well-ordered life had been turned upside-down and, even though the three of them would be gone, he would still need to keep an eye on them from a distance, and that over and above his own busy life.

The contrast between his handsome house and her own home was cruel, but she didn’t allow it to bother her. He stopped before its front door and she prepared to get out. She stopped halfway. ‘I shall be about half an hour,’ she told him. ‘Would you like to come in, or perhaps you would rather come back?’

His mouth twitched. ‘I’ll come in, if I may.’ It would be interesting to see how this unassuming girl, who had fitted into the quiet luxury of his home with unself-conscious naturalness, behaved in her own house. Besides, he had a wish to meet the delicate sister. As plain as her sister? he wondered.

Araminta put her key in the lock and opened the door, and stood aside to allow him to pass her into the narrow hall. It was a bit of a squeeze, for he was so very large, but she said nothing, only called softly, ‘Alice? Alice, I’m back…’

Alice’s voice came from the kitchen. ‘And about time too, I’m sick of all this beastly housework…’ Her voice got louder as she opened the door wider and came through, and then changed miraculously as she saw Professor Lister. ‘Oh, we weren’t expecting you…’ Her cross face became wreathed in smiles.

‘This is Professor Lister, Alice. My sister, Professor. Alice, I shall be away for another week or ten days. I’ve come to collect some more clothes. I’ve brought my case with me…’

The professor had shaken hands and smiled but not spoken; now he said, ‘Ah, yes, I’ll fetch it in for you.’ And he went out to the car again.

Alice clutched Araminta’s arm. ‘Why didn’t you warn me? I’d have had my hair done and put on a decent dress. He’s quite something.’ She added peevishly, ‘The house is in a mess…’

‘I doubt if he notices,’ said Araminta prosaically. ‘He’s a bit absent-minded.’

Alice tossed her head. ‘I’ll make him notice me…’ She turned to smile at him as he came back into the house. ‘You run along, dear,’ she said sweetly to Araminta. ‘I daresay Professor Lister would like a cup of coffee.’

Araminta climbed the stairs to her room and set about the business of finding fresh clothes, stout shoes and an all-enveloping overall, since it seemed likely that she would be expected to do the housework as well as keep an eye on Jimmy and Gloria. That done, she took a pile of undies and blouses down to the kitchen, stuffed them into the washing-machine and switched it on. Alice wasn’t likely to iron them, but at least they would be clean when she got back. She could hear voices in the sitting-room, and Alice’s laugh, as she went back upstairs to collect her writing-case and choose a book to take with her. She thought that she might need soothing by bedtime each day, and ran her hand along the row of books by her bed. She chose Vanity Fair and Thackeray’s Ballads and Songs. She hesitated, her small, nicely kept hand hovering over Jane Eyre, but there wasn’t room for it in her case. She closed the case, carried it downstairs, and went into the sitting-room. The professor was sitting in one of the shabby armchairs by the fireplace and he got up as she went in. Alice was sitting on the old-fashioned sofa. She looked prettier than ever, thought Araminta without envy, but it was a pity that the room was so untidy, more than untidy, grubby. Why did Alice look so cross, anyway?