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
