seemed empty and quiet. Florina went to and fro, putting the finishing touches to the food. She was a little warm by now, but still very neat. Mrs Frobisher, coming into the kitchen, nodded approvingly.
‘You certainly know your work,’ she allowed. ‘Sir William is a very punctual man, so have the soup ready on the dot. I’ll carry in the food.’
The meal over and the last of the dishes back in the kitchen, Florina put the coffee tray ready to be carried in, and started on the clearing up.
The china, glass and silver Mrs Deakin would see to in the morning, but she did her saucepans and cooking utensils. It had been a strict rule at the hotel and one she intended to continue. She had just finished burnishing the last pan when Mrs Frobisher came back with the coffee tray. ‘Sir William is very satisfied with your cooking,’ she told Florina, ‘I’m to pass on his compliments. He wants to know if you can cook for a dinner party next weekend. Eight sitting down to table, and Miss Fortesque, his fiancée, will be staying for the weekend.’
‘No problem. If there is anything special Sir William wants, I’ll do my best.’
‘I’ll ask him. You’re finished? Did you put everything to keep warm in the Aga? Good. I’ll lay the table and you dish up. It’s been a busy evening, but you’ve done very well. I’ve suggested to Sir William that we get a girl from the village to come in in the evenings and help you clear up and see to the vegetables and so on. Do you know of one?’
Florina thought. ‘Yes, there is Jean Smith at Keeper’s Cottage—she’s left school, but she’s got to wait a month or two before she can start work training as a nurse. She will be glad of the money.’
‘I’ll leave you to ask her to come along and see me. Now, let’s have dinner. I’ve seen Pauline safely up to bed, and Sir William has got all he wants. Your father knows you won’t be home until later?’
‘Oh, yes. I left his supper ready for him.’
‘You’re kept busy,’ observed Mrs Frobisher. ‘Mind you, during the week it will be midday dinner and a light supper at seven o’clock. You’ll have most of the evening free. It is a pity that you can’t live in.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind working late or coming early in the morning,’ said Florina, and tried not to sound anxious.
She did not quite succeed, though, for Mrs Frobisher said quickly, ‘Oh, don’t worry about that dinner, Sir William won’t want to lose you on any account. I was only thinking that it would be much easier for you; there’s a nice little room at the top of the back stairs with its own bathroom, and nicely furnished, too. Still, I dare say your father would miss you.’
Florina, serving them with the last of the profiteroles, agreed quietly.
She faced a long-drawn-out lecture when she got home. She listened with half an ear while she washed up his supper things and put everything ready for the morning. When her father paused at last, she surprised him and herself by saying, without heat, ‘Father, the doctor said that it would be good for you to do a few things for yourself. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t clear away your meals and wash up. You could make your bed, too, and get your own tea. I’m really working hard for most of the day, and I give you almost all my money. You could even get a part-time job! Then you would have more money and I could have some money of my own.’
She waited patiently while he gobbled and snorted, and told her several times that she was a wicked and ungrateful girl.
‘Why?’ asked Florina. ‘It’s not wicked to get you to help a little, especially when the doctor says it would be good for you. And what do I have to be grateful for, Father?’
‘A roof over your head, and food and a bed!’ he shouted very angrily.
She could get those if she lived in at Wheel House… ‘I’m thinking of leaving home,’ she told him. ‘I’ll stay until you can get someone to come in and keep the house tidy and do the washing. You said a few days ago that a cousin of yours—Aunt Meg, was it? I don’t remember her very well—had been widowed. She might be glad to come and live here with you…’
‘You would leave your home? But you were born here, your mother lived here.’
‘Yes, I know, Father, but now she isn’t here any more it isn’t home, not to me.’ She added gently, ‘You’ll be happier if I’m not here, won’t you?’
Her father’s face turned alarmingly red. ‘To think that a daughter of mine should say such a thing…’
‘But it’s true, isn’t it, Father? And if Aunt Meg were here, she would be at home all day and be company for you. You wouldn’t miss my money because she would pay her share, wouldn’t she?’
He agreed in a grumbling voice. ‘And, since you are determined to leave home and leave me to shift for myself, I’ll write to her, I suppose. But don’t you think you can come sneaking back here if you’re ever out of a job.’
‘There is always work for a good cook,’ observed Florina.
Sunday was very much like Saturday, except that there was hot lunch and cold supper, which gave Florina a good deal more leisure. She left everything ready for tea and, intent on striking while the iron was hot, asked Mrs Frobisher if she had been serious when she had suggested that for her to live in would be more convenient for everyone.
‘Yes, of course I was,’ declared that lady. ‘Why do you ask?’
Florina explained, leaving out the bits about her father’s bad temper.
‘A good idea. Come and see the room.’
It was a very nice room, its windows overlooking the river running through the garden. It was well furnished, too, with a small writing desk and an easy chair with a table beside it, and a divan bed along one wall with a fitted cover. There were pictures on the walls and a window-box cascading geraniums. There was a cupboard in one wall and a small bathroom, cunningly built into the roof. A minuscule kitchen contained a sink and a minature gas cooker, capable of turning out a meal for one, as well as an electric kettle.
‘Why, it’s perfect! Whoever thought of it?’
‘Sir William. He enjoys comfort, and wants everyone around him to be comfortable, too. I believe that he will be pleased if you were to live here, Florina, but of course I’ll say nothing until you’ve decided.’
She had a good deal more leisure for the rest of the week. Sir William left early on the Monday morning, but that leisure was very much encroached on by Pauline, who attached herself to Florina at every possible moment. Though Florina, who had perforce led a somewhat solitary life, enjoyed her company; it was fun to show the child where she could find mushrooms and wild strawberries, sit by the river and watch for water voles, and feed the swans. Pauline, who had spent almost all her life in London, loved every minute of it. But, if life was pleasant while she was at the Wheel House, it was uncomfortable at home. Her father had indeed written to her aunt, and received a reply, full of enthusiasm for his scheme and suggesting that she would be ready to join him in a couple of weeks’ time, news which apparently gave him no pleasure at all. Not that he wanted Florina to change her plans. Indeed, she had told him Mrs Frobisher knew that she was willing to live in, providing Sir William agreed. Cutting sandwiches for Pauline’s tea, she had never felt so happy.
It had to be too good to last. On
