in bed again, come down and have a drink.’
Deborah was on the point of making some excuse, but Mrs Burns said: ‘Yes, do—I know you’ve had the hell of a day with the children, but just come for a little while, please.’
It was surprisingly easy to get the twins to bed now that they were satisfied that their father was really home; they were asleep at once and it wasn’t quite time for Dee’s last feed. Deborah tidied her hair, powdered her flushed and rather tired face and went downstairs.
Mr Burns was sitting in an armchair, his wife perched beside him but he got up as Deborah went into the room, offered her sherry and poured it, and then waved her to a chair. ‘I can’t tell you what a relief it was to hear how well you’ve been coping—Gideon sent me a most reassuring cable—it made all the difference, I can tell you—all those miles away and unable to get home to poor Peggy. We thought we might go over to Bath tomorrow—we’ll take the children of course and if you would come too…?’
‘Of course,’ said Deborah in a quiet voice.
‘Good, just a brief visit, you know. I’m very fond of my mother-in-law,’ he smiled at his wife as he spoke, ‘I’m glad and relieved that she’s recovered. She wants to see the children and I want to see her, so if you could take charge of them for half an hour? There’s a nice garden there—Dee can stay in her Moses basket.’
He was quite different from the professor, thought Deborah, listening to him; unassuming and reserved with a nice open face and kind eyes. ‘We’ll be quite all right, Mr Burns,’ she assured him: ‘Dee’s such a good baby and I’ll take something to amuse the twins. Shall we be going in the morning or later in the day?’
‘An early lunch?’ suggested Mr Burns to his wife and she nodded. ‘We can have tea there, and be back in good time for the twins to be put to bed.’
Deborah put down her glass and stood up. ‘It’s time for Dee’s feed. Thank you for my drink, goodnight Mrs Burns, goodnight Mr Burns.’
The twins naturally enough were enchanted at the idea of going to see Granny in Daddy’s car, but they were still more delighted to hear that since lunch was to be early they wouldn’t be going to school. Deborah took them for a walk; protesting loudly, rebellious hands holding on to the pram as she wheeled Dee off for the morning airing. ‘Just for an hour,’ coaxed Deborah. ‘So that your father can get the car ready for this afternoon.’
They travelled in Mr Burns’ estate car, roomy enough to take them all with the twins strapped into their seats and Deborah sitting between them with Dee on her lap. The weather was warm and sunny although the trees were showing the first early signs of autumn, although she was kept much too occupied to look around her.
Mrs Burns’ mother lived in a nice old house a mile or two outside Bath and when they arrived Mrs Burns went in alone to make sure that her mother was feeling up to seeing them, then her husband joined her, leaving Deborah in the garden with the twins and Dee in her carry-cot. Luckily not for long, for they were impatient to see the invalid, and under dire threat not to so much as raise their voices, they were led inside with Deborah, Dee tucked under her arm, bringing up the rear.
Mrs Burns’ mother was an elderly edition of her daughter and although she looked ill, she was still pretty in a faded way, but her eyes were bright and missed nothing. She was kissed carefully by the twins, admired Dee, and then turned her attention to Deborah. Not that she said much, but Deborah had the distinct impression that she was being closely examined, although she couldn’t think why. If she could have stayed behind instead of taking the children back into the garden she would have found out…
‘She’ll do very well,’ said Mrs Beaufort. ‘Have you said anything?’
‘Nothing, Mother—we thought we’d see what you thought, first, after all, you’ll see quite a lot of her for several weeks.’ She added, ‘Bill likes her…’
‘And Gideon,’ said her mother. ‘Which surprised me very much—you know what he’s like and she’s hardly his type. He says she unnerves him—probably all that sandy hair and those eyes. They are absolutely beautiful.’
‘She’s super with the kids.’ Mrs Burns stopped to kiss her parent. ‘Bill will talk to her tomorrow and get things settled. The doctors say another two weeks before you are fit to travel, that gives us time to get organised. Is Eleanor coming too?’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Beaufort was looking tired but interested. ‘But for some reason best known to him, Gideon asks us not to mention that.’
She and her daughter stared at each other for a long moment. ‘You don’t say,’ observed Mrs Burns, and then: ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
Deborah was under the trees at the end of the garden, making daisy chains for the twins while Dee slept. She would have liked a cup of tea and as if in answer to her thought, a stout woman came out of the house with a tray, and a moment or two later Mr and Mrs Burns came out too. They picnicked at leisure and presently Mr Burns carried the tray back indoors and they all got into the car once more and drove home. The children were sleepy by now and Deborah had a chance to mull over the afternoon; it was strange but she was unable to rid herself of the feeling that she had been on some sort of trial; perhaps they would tell her that she wasn’t needed any more. It seemed more than likely when Mr Burns said over his shoulder as they stopped before the door: ‘Nanny, I’d like to talk to you sometime. Tomorrow? Or perhaps this evening when you have some time to yourself?’ He smiled at her kindly. ‘After dinner if that suits you.’
She agreed calmly, already composing a letter to the agency in her head as she bore Dee off to the nursery and bedtime.
CHAPTER THREE
DEBORAH HAD imagined that she would be summoned to the study during the evening, but the three of them had dinner without any mention of the talk Mr Burns had suggested, it was only after they had had their coffee in the drawing room that he glanced at his wife and said: ‘We should like to talk to you, Nanny. We hope that you haven’t another job lined up because we would be very glad if you could come with us on holiday in a couple of weeks’ time. We plan to take Mrs Beaufort away—a villa in the Algarve—where she can laze around in the sun and get really well again. Of course we shall take the children with us and we hope that you will come too. Three weeks or a month, and in the meantime if you would like to go home? Now that I am here, we can cope with the twins for a couple of weeks, but without you on holiday with us, I don’t think that we could manage. Will you think about it and let us know? It won’t be much of a holiday for you although we’ll see that you get time to have to yourself each day…’
‘We would be back in England about the end of October?’ asked Deborah.
‘Yes, but I can’t give you the exact dates just yet.’
Deborah sounded matter-of-fact, but she was excited too. She liked the twins and Dee; compared with some of the children she had cared for, they were like angels. Besides, even though she would have her hands full all day, it would make a pleasant change. She didn’t give herself time to weigh the pros and cons; she said in her calm way: ‘Yes, I’ll come with you, Mr Burns. I should like to go home first as you suggest, but I can be ready whenever you want. I’ve nothing in view at the moment, and I only have to let the agency know.’
‘That calls for another drink,’ declared Mr Burns and presently, nicely glowing from a second sherry, Deborah went up to bed. She didn’t go to sleep at once; her usually sensible head was full of pleasant, excited thoughts.
