Blandford or Salisbury I’m afraid you can’t—the buses don’t fit and, even if they did, by the time you got there it would be time to come back.’ She smiled. ‘It’s only for a month and the village shop has all the basics, newspapers and magazines and so on. The postman, Ted, will take your letters and bring anything you may want. You’ll be all right?’
A bit late to ask, thought Jane, and said that yes, everything was fine. ‘Then I’m off; the car’s outside for me. I’ve put the cats in.’
They shook hands and Miss Smithers went away and presently Jane heard the car as it was driven away.
It was a clear chilly afternoon and she went along to the kitchen and collected Bill, exchanged the time of day with Mrs Gibb the cook and Petts, the grim-faced woman who had let them in. There was another woman there too, small and round. ‘Sarah,’ said Mrs Gibb, ‘gives a hand round the house—comes each day.’ She smiled at Jane. ‘New to this kind of job, are you? Thought so—well, we’ll all give you a helping hand if you need it.’
Jane thanked her, collected Bill and went back to her room, opened the door and let out Percy and Simpkin, also Bruno, and set off to explore the grounds. The garden around the house gave way presently to a shrubbery and a wide expanse of grass planted with ornamental trees and circled and criss-crossed by narrow paths—ideal for the animals since there was a twelve-foot wall surrounding them. She walked briskly, feeling the first chill of autumn, and as she walked she made plans. She would get the postman to take a note to the post office in the village; once she could get one of the nursing magazines delivered she could start to apply for a job. It might have to be temporary again but she had to have somewhere to go when she left Lady Grimstone, somewhere where the dog and cats would be welcome; she had better order the Lady too; failing a nursing post she could go as a companion at least for the time being while she found exactly what she wanted. She might have to go back to London …
She took her companions indoors, unpacked and then explored her room. It was comfortable enough and had its own small bathroom as well as the conservatory. She had been lucky to get the job, she reflected, a thought which led naturally enough to Professor van der Vollenhove. Did he work in London, she wondered, or did he live in Holland and travel around? Probably the latter, she thought, if he was sufficiently well known. During her years in hospital she had met several medical men who travelled widely, famous not only in their own country but in half the world as well. Her thoughts lingered on him and she wondered if she would see him again. It seemed unlikely. She was puzzling over her feeling of regret at the thought when she glanced at her watch; time to see if there was any post and tidy herself ready for what she hoped would be tea and cake.
Bill had stayed in her room, perfectly happy with his new friends, and, not sure if Lady Grimstone wanted him or not, she left him there and went along to the kitchen. Mrs Gibbs was at the table, cutting wafer-thin bread and butter.
‘The post?’ asked Jane. ‘I was told to collect it—do I come here for it?’
‘The hall, miss, on the table under the tiger head. If you want to see the postman he’s here every morning at half-past seven, having a cuppa with us. He’ll take your letters and bring you anything from the shop. Been doing it for years for Miss Smithers.’
She glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. ‘Tea in ten minutes, miss; time you got that post and had it ready for her ladyship.’
Jane thanked her and fetched the few letters on the tray. She slit the envelopes and carried them upstairs just as the long case clock in the hall chimed the hour.
She went into the drawing-room quietly and paused. Lady Grimstone was snoring with tremendous gusto but Jane supposed that she wouldn’t want the servants to see her like that, lying anyhow, when they brought the tea-tray. She opened the curtains and let in the early dusk and her employer woke with a snort and sat up.
‘I must have dozed off after lunch—it was rather a heavy meal.’ A remark Jane felt unable to answer as she unwound the shawl and rug and helped Lady Grimstone to her feet, eased her into her chair and handed the post. Just in nice time; the tea-tray, borne by Blake, arrived then—Earl Grey tea, milkless of course, bread and butter she could see through and very small fairy cakes. Lady Grimstone ate all but one of the cakes.
In bed at last, Jane reflected on her day. It hadn’t been too bad; although dinner, for which she had been told to dress, had been as meagre as lunch and she had eaten half the biscuits as she got ready for bed and was still hungry; the roast pigeon and straw potatoes followed by semolina shape had done little to fill her. ‘But it’s only for a month,’ she told Percy and Simpkin, curled up at the end of the bed, and Bruno from his basket growled gently. ‘At least we’re all together, thanks to Professor van der Vollenhove.’
She fell asleep thinking about him.
CHAPTER THREE
BY THE end of the third day Jane realised that the professor had been quite right: Lady Grimstone was an extremely difficult woman with whom to live. She was self-centred, selfish and quite uncaring about anything or anyone other than herself, although Jane had to admit that she had a fondness for animals. She suffered from a variety of complaints, all of them imaginary except for mild emphesema as far as Jane could make out, and she was forever trying out new diets, none of them, unfortunately for those who lived with her, of a substantial kind.
Jane ate all the biscuits which Miss Smithers had left for her and longed for her half-day so that she could replenish the tin. No wonder the professor hadn’t stayed for lunch, she thought sourly; his vast frame needed a good deal more nourishment than a single lamb chop. He might have warned her—but there again, why should he, seeing that she had taken the job with her eyes open and she a grown woman, able to look after herself?
If life wasn’t exactly rosy for herself, at least Bruno, Percy and Simpkin were happy and safe and Bill had become their devoted friend.
The postman had brought her a copy of the Nursing Times and last week’s Lady. There hadn’t been anything suitable in the Lady but she had answered two advertisements for ward sister posts, one in London and one in Manchester, and she had written out an advertisement, stressing the need for a living-out post because of the animals, offering to go anywhere in England. The postman had taken it with him and all she had to do was wait in patience.
Lady Grimstone had few visitors and depended upon Jane for company for a good deal of the day, keeping her busy with a dozen small chores, and talking endlessly about her youth. Jane wished that she would talk about the professor and his family but he was never mentioned; Lady Grimstone preferred to give details of the more exalted members of her family and Jane put on a listening face and murmured suitably while she pondered her future.
It was obvious by the end of the week that her employer wasn’t going to do anything about her half-day unless she brought the matter up.
‘Is it already a week since you came, Miss Fox?’ Lady Grimstone sounded disbelieving. ‘Well, I suppose you must have it since you expect it. I should have thought that you would have been quite content here, living as you do in such delightful surroundings.’
‘I am very content,’ Jane pointed out politely, ‘but I do need to buy one or two things—toothpaste and stamps, and Percy and Simpkin do like those little crunchy biscuits …’
‘Well, in that case, you had better have Saturday afternoon after you have settled me for my nap and taken Bill for his walk. I expect you back by ten o’clock at the latest, Miss Fox. Miss Smithers is never late.’
‘I’m
