must go. It’s been such fun and I quite forgot the time. James will be wondering what’s happened to me.’ She gave a little trill of laughter. ‘It’s such a good thing he always does exactly what I want.’
She put on her coat and spent a few moments examining her face in her little mirror. She added a little lipstick and went down to the hall with Coralie. Saying goodbye was a leisurely affair, too, but the butler had opened the door and she hurried out into the blinding snow.
The doctor had the door open for her. He leaned across to shut it as she got in and asked in a quiet voice, ‘What kept you, Sybil? A few minutes was the agreed time.’
‘Oh, darling don’t be cross. I haven’t been very long, have I? Coralie insisted that I had a cup of tea.’ She turned a smiling face to him.
‘You were half an hour.’ His voice was expressionless.
Her smile disappeared. ‘What if I was a bit longer than I said? I won’t be ordered around and I won’t be hurried. Now for heaven’s sake let’s get back to town.’
‘That may not be possible.’
He drove carefully, for the snow was drifting and visibility was almost non-existent. The big car held the road well, but it was now pitch-dark and there was no lighting on the narrow country roads. He came to the crossroads, drove through Wisbury and onto the crossroads after it. It was as he drove into Nether Ditchling that a flashing blue light from a police car parked on the side of the road brought him to a halt.
A cold but cheerful face appeared at the window. The professor opened it and a policeman, muffled against the weather, poked his head in.
‘Road’s closed ahead, sir. Are you going far?’
‘London.’
‘Not a chance. They’ll have the snowploughs out on the main roads, but they won’t get here much before tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Is there no other way? We’ve come from Netherby.’
‘Just had a message that the crossroads at Wisbury are blocked. You’d best put up here for the night.’
Sybil said suddenly, ‘I won’t. I must be taken to London. Of course there’s another road we can use …’ Both men looked at her, and she added furiously, ‘Well, do something, can’t you?’
A tall figure in a hooded cape had joined them.
‘Officer Greenslade? Can I be of help to you?’
‘Reverend—I’ve suggested that these folk put up in the village, for they can’t go anywhere else tonight.’
‘Then let me offer them a meal and a bed.’
The Reverend Selby poked his head through the window in his turn. ‘You car will be safe enough here. My wife will be delighted to help you.’
Professor Forsyth got out and made his way round to Sybil’s door. ‘That’s most kind of you—we shan’t be too much trouble?’
‘No, no—and Greenslade, if anyone else needs shelter send them along to the vicarage.’
Sybil, for once mute, was helped up the short drive to the vicarage door and into the hall, where she stood watching the men shed their coats and cloak. She looked forlorn and very pretty, but the only feeling the professor had for her was one of exasperation. Nevertheless he unbuttoned her coat and took it off her, and then held her arm as they followed their host through the hall and into the kitchen.
This was a large room, with an old-fashioned dresser, a vast table with an assortment of wooden chairs around it and an elderly Aga giving out welcome warmth.
Mr Selby led the way to the two shabby Windsor chairs by the Aga, gently moved a cat and kittens from one of them, and said, ‘My dear, we have guests. The road is closed and they can go no further.’
Mrs Selby gave them a warm smile and said, ‘You poor things. Sit down and I’ll make tea—you must need a hot drink.’
Professor Forsyth held out a hand. ‘You’re most kind and we’re grateful. My name’s Forsyth—James Forsyth. This lady is my fiancée, Miss Sybil West.’
Mrs Selby shook hands and turned to Sybil. ‘This is horrid for you.’
Sybil lifted a lovely wistful face. ‘Yes, I’m so cold and hungry, and we should be in London. If I could go to bed, perhaps I could have a small meal on a tray …’
James said evenly, ‘You’ll warm quickly here, and you have no need to go to bed.’ He stopped speaking as the door opened and two girls came in, both fair-haired and pretty and smiling.
‘We heard the car. Are you cut off from the outside world?’ One girl offered a hand. ‘I’m Flora and this is Rose. There are three more of us, but Lucy’s spending the weekend with friends and Katie’s finishing her homework. And Philly …’
A door at the back of the kitchen opened, letting in a great deal of cold air, and Philomena, wrapped in a variety of coats and scarves, with her head tied in some kind of a hood, came in.
‘I got the chickens in, but we’ll have a job to get to them by morning.’
She cast off some of the garments and looked across the kitchen at the tall man standing beside her father. ‘Oh, hello, you were in that car …’ She smiled at him and then saw Sybil, crouching by the Aga. ‘And you, too,’ she added cheerfully. ‘Are you going to spend the night?’
She had taken off the last coat and pulled the hood off her head. ‘I’ll go and make up some beds, shall I, Mother? Rose will give me a hand.’
‘Yes, dear.’ Her mother was pouring tea into mugs and inviting the professor to sit down. ‘Let me see. Miss …’ She turned to Sybil with a smile. ‘West, isn’t it? You had better have Katie’s room; she can go in with you. Rose and Flora can share, and Mr Forsyth …’ Her eye fell on the bag he was carrying. ‘Are you a doctor?’ When he nodded, amused, she said, ‘Doctor Forsyth can have the guest room.’
As Philly and Rose left the room she added, ‘They’ll put clean sheets on the beds, and if you’re tired, which I expect you are, you can go to bed when we’ve had supper.’
‘We are putting you to a great deal of trouble. Is there anything I can do?’
‘No, no. It’s stewed beef and dumplings, and there is plenty of it. Also there’s an egg custard in the Aga.’
‘Then if you’ve no need of Doctor Forsyth’s services, my dear,’ observed her husband, ‘I’ll take him along to my study while you and the girls get supper.’
There was the table to lay, more potatoes to peel, plates and cutlery to get from cupboards and drawers. Mrs Selby and Flora talked as they worked but Sybil stayed silent, fuming. A spoilt only child in a wealthy household, she had never done anything for herself. There had always been someone to wash and iron, cook meals, tidy her bedroom, to fetch and carry. Now she was dumped in this ghastly kitchen and James had left her with no more than a nod.
He would pay for it, she told herself silently.
