taken with a glass of white wine, Mrs Duvant declared herself ready to inspect the upper floors. And that took most of the afternoon, what with a long discussion about new curtains for one of the bedrooms, and a meticulous inspection of the linen closet on the top floor, but presently they were sitting by the fire having tea and with the prospect of the evening before them.
‘I’ve got tickets for the concert in the Assembly Rooms, dear,’ observed Mrs Duvant. ‘If we have dinner a little early, we shall be in good time for it. It doesn’t start before half past eight.’
Going to bed much later, Annis decided that there was a lot to be said for such a pleasant way of life—not that she would want to change it for her life at the Rectory, but like any other girl, she sometimes hankered after the fleshpots.
They spent almost all the next day shopping: Mrs Duvant, it seemed, was a great shopper and since money didn’t seem to be any problem to her, she bought several things at prices which made Annis lift her eyebrows, but her companion’s enjoyment was so genuine that she could find no objection, and after all, it was her money, and besides, Annis liked her.
They went to a cinema that evening and the following morning drove back with a firm promise to Bates that Mrs Duvant intended to take up residence in the near future.
They reached the Rectory at teatime and while Annis rang Matt to come over and collect the Rover and his aunt, Mrs Fothergill sat Mrs Duvant down before the fire and plied her with tea and hot buttered toast.
It was when Annis joined them that Mrs Duvant, between bites, announced that she would like Annis to accompany her to Bath. ‘Just for a few weeks,’ she said persuasively. ‘I shall be a little lonely at first—if you could spare her? And if she would like to come?’ She glanced a little anxiously at Annis. ‘It would be a job, of course, I forget things and leave things lying around, and paying bills and so on, so you’d be quite busy, dear. Would forty pounds a week suit you? For about six weeks?’
Two hundred and forty pounds; Mrs Duvant had paid exactly that for a suit in Jaegar’s the day before. A list, expanding every second in Annis’s head, of things which that sum would buy for them all, slowly unrolled itself before Annis’s inward eyes. A washing machine, a new coat for her mother, shoes for the boys, all the tobacco her father could smoke, the dancing slippers little Audrey had set her heart upon… She glanced at her mother and saw that she was doing exactly the same thing. She said promptly: ‘Well, if Mother could manage, I’d love to come, if you think I’d be of any use.’
‘Of course you will. That’s settled, then. You’ve no idea how grateful I am, Annis.’ She paused as the door opened and Matt came in. It wasn’t until the hubbub of small talk had died down that she said: ‘Shall we say on Saturday? That gives you four days. Is that time enough?’
Annis nodded. ‘Plenty. Do I drive you again?’
‘Yes, I think so. I can have the Rover for the time being. We must see about getting a car later on.’ She bustled out on a tide of goodbyes, explaining to Matt as they went.
When the last sounds of the car had died away Mrs Fothergill said: ‘You do want to go, darling? I shall miss you, and so will your father, but it will make a nice change and you’ll have some money.’
‘We’ll have some money,’ Annis corrected her. ‘I’ve already made a list, have you?’
Her mother nodded happily. ‘But it’s your money, Annis. Now tell me, what sort of a house is it?’
Annis began to tell her, and it took quite a time; she hadn’t quite finished when her father came in from a parish council meeting, and she went to get the supper and make sure that the younger ones were doing their homework properly.
Back at the Manor House, Mrs Duvant was writing a letter. She wrote as she did most things, with enthusiasm and a great many flourishes of the pen and she smiled a good deal as she wrote. It was a long letter. She read it through, put it in an envelope and addressed it to Jake Royle, whose godmother she was.
The house at Bath looked very welcoming as Annis drew up before it on Saturday afternoon. It had been a bright, cold day and now that the sun was almost gone there was already a sparkle of frost, but the house blazed with lights, and as they went in Annis noticed the great bowl of daffodils on the hall table and in the little sitting room where they at once went, the window held hyacinths of every colour. There was a vase of roses too, long-stemmed and perfect. Mrs Duvant picked up the card with them and chuckled as she read it, although she didn’t say why.
‘We’d like tea, Bates,’ she said briskly, ‘I know it’s rather late, but perhaps Mrs Bates could put dinner back half an hour?’
So the two of them had tea together round the fire before going upstairs to unpack and get ready for dinner. ‘I always like to change my dress,’ observed Mrs Duvant. ‘Nothing fancy, you know, unless I’m going out, but it somehow makes the evening more of an occasion, if you see what I mean?’
So Annis took the hint and put on the green jersey, wondering as she did so if she might get herself another dress when she was paid. She and her mother had pored over their lists, scratching out and adding until they had spent her wages, on paper at least, to the greatest advantage. Even after everyone had had something there was a little over for herself—enough for a dress—something plain and dateless to take the place of the outworn blue velvet. Doubtless she would have some time to herself in which to browse among the shops. Annis tugged her green jersey into shape with an impatient hand and went downstairs.
She discovered after the first few days that her duties were light in the extreme and consisted mainly in finding Mrs Duvant’s spectacles, handbag, library book and knitting whenever she mislaid them, which was often, reminding her of the various things she wished to do each day, and unpicking her knitting when she got it in a muddle; that was pretty often too. The pair of them got on excellently together and since Annis got on equally well with the Bates’, the household was a happy one.
She had been there a week when the even tenor of her days was unexpectedly shaken. Mrs Duvant had the habit of retiring for an afternoon nap after lunch each day, leaving Annis to do as she wished. Previously she had gone for a brisk walk, done some window shopping and taken herself round the Roman Baths, but this afternoon it was raining, not a soft rain to be ignored, but a steady, icy downpour. Annis decided on a book by the fire as she came downstairs after seeing Mrs Duvant safely tucked up. There were plenty of books in the sitting room and an hour or so with one of them would be very pleasant.
Bates met her on the stairs. ‘Mr Royle has arrived, miss—he’s in the drawing room.’
Annis stood staring at him, her mouth a little open. ‘Mr Royle? What on earth…I didn’t know Mrs Duvant was expecting him.’ She suppressed the little spurt of excitement at the idea of meeting him again and reminded herself that she didn’t like him, which made her voice sound reluctant.
‘I suppose I’d better go…’ her voice trailed off and Bates coughed gently. ‘It would be a pity to disturb Mrs Duvant,’ he reminded her.
Annis took a step down. ‘Yes, of course, Bates.’
She went past him, crossed the hall, opened the drawing room door reluctantly and went unwillingly inside.
Jake Royle was standing, very much at home, before the fire. She said idiotically: ‘Oh, hullo, Bates told me you were here. I’m afraid Mrs Duvant’s having a nap, she always does after lunch.’
‘Yes, I know that.’ He smiled at her,
