in her mind that her husband must adore her. The twins were kissed and told to be good, and Daisy was to be sure and ask for anything she might want. The three of them escorted her to the door and waved as she drove away in her smart little Mini, and Katie began to sniff sorrowfully.
‘Who’s coming to help get our picnic ready?’ asked Daisy, and whisked the moppet out into the garden with Josh and Boots. ‘Look, Cook’s put a table ready; let’s put the plates and knives and things on it and then we’ll go to the kitchen and fetch the food.’
She was leading the way back to the garden, laden with a tray of dishes—hard-boiled eggs, bacon sandwiches, little sausages on sticks and a mushroom quiche—when she saw Dr Seymour sitting on the grass leaning against the table. The children had seen him too; the dish of apples Josh had been carrying went tumbling to the ground and Katie, close behind him, dropped the plastic mugs she held as they galloped towards him with shrieks of delight. He uncoiled his vast person in one neat movement and received their onslaught with lazy good humour. ‘May I stay to lunch?’ he asked Daisy and, since he quite obviously intended to anyway, she said politely,
‘Of course, Dr Seymour. Lady Thorley is out but she’ll be back at teatime.’ She put down her tray. ‘I’ll fetch the rest of the food…’
She started back to the house and found him beside her, trailed by the twins and Boots. ‘Quite happy here?’ he wanted to know.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Pleased to see me again?’
What an outrageous man, thought Daisy, and what a colossal conceit. She said pleasantly, ‘Should I be, Dr Seymour?’
‘Upon reflection, perhaps not.’ They had reached the kitchen and found Cook, who had seen his car, cutting a mound of beef sandwiches. ‘You’ll be peckish, sir,’ she said comfortably. ‘Hard-boiled eggs and sausages on sticks aren’t hardly fitting for a gentleman of your size, if you don’t mind me saying it.’
He took a sandwich and bit into it. ‘When have I ever disputed an opinion of yours, Mrs Betts? And if I can’t finish them I’m sure Daisy will help me out.’
So she was Daisy, was she? And she had no intention of eating his beef sandwiches. She didn’t say so although she gave him a chilly look.
It was impossible to remain chilly for long; the twins, on their best behaviour because their favourite uncle was going to share their picnic, saw to that. The meal was an unqualified success; Josh ate everything he was offered and, since Katie always did as he did, the usual patient battle to get them to eat didn’t take place; instead, the doctor kept them entertained with a mixture of mild teasing and ridiculous stories in the face of which it was impossible to remain stand-offish; indeed Daisy enjoyed herself and found herself forgetting how much she disapproved of him. That was until he remarked, as the last of the lemonade was being drunk, ‘I hope Meg has got you on a long lease.’
She gave him a puzzled look. ‘A long lease…?’
‘It would seem to me that you have all the makings of a family nanny, handed down from one generation to another.’
Daisy, a mild-tempered girl, choked back rage. ‘I have no intention of being anything of the sort.’ Her pleasant voice held a decidedly acid note.
‘No? Planning to get married?’
‘No, and if I may say so, Dr Seymour, I must remind you that it’s none of your business.’
‘No, no, of course it isn’t; put it down to idle curiosity.’
Josh, for nearly four years old, was very bright. ‘You’re not married either, Uncle Val; I know ’cos Mummy said it was high time and it was time you thought about it.’
His uncle ate a last sandwich. ‘Mummy’s quite right; I must think about it.’
Daisy began to collect up the remains of their meal. ‘Everyone carry something,’ ordered the doctor, ‘and no dropping it on the way to the kitchen. What happens next?’ He looked at Daisy.
‘They rest for an hour—I read to them.’
‘Oh, good. I could do with a nap myself. We can all fit into the hammock easily enough—not you, of course, Daisy. What gem of literature are you reading at the moment?’
‘Grimm’s fairy-tales; they choose a different story each day.’
She wasn’t sure how to reply to the doctor’s remarks; she suspected that he was making fun of her, not unkindly but perhaps to amuse himself. Well, she had no intention of letting him annoy her. ‘Perhaps you would like to choose?’ she asked him as, the picnic cleared away, they crossed the lawn to where the hammock stood under the shade of the trees.
He arranged a padded chair for her before lying back in the hammock with the twins crushed on either side of him. ‘“Faithful John”,’ he told her promptly.
She opened the book. ‘It’s rather long,’ she said doubtfully.
‘I dare say we shall all be asleep long before you’ve finished.’
He closed his eyes and the children lay quietly; there was nothing for it but to begin.
He had been right; Josh dropped off first and then Katie, and since he hadn’t opened his eyes she supposed that the doctor had gone to sleep too. She closed the book on its bookmark, kicked off her sandals and sat back against the cushions. They might sleep for half an hour and she had plenty to occupy her thoughts.
Dr Seymour opened one eye. He said very softly, ‘You don’t like me very much, do you, Daisy?’
She was taken by surprise, but Daisy being Daisy she gave his remark thoughtful consideration. Presently she said, ‘I don’t know anything about you, Dr Seymour.’
‘An indisputable fact. You haven’t answered my question.’
‘Yes, I have—I don’t know you well enough to know, do I?’
‘No? Personally, I know if I like or dislike someone the moment I set eyes on them.’
He would have disliked her on sight, she reflected, remembering the cold stare at the traffic-lights in Wilton and the short shrift he had given her, almost knocking her off her bike. She said primly, ‘Well, we’re all different, aren’t we?’
The mocking look he gave her sent the colour into her cheeks. The doctor, watching her lazily, decided that she wasn’t as plain as he had thought.
The twins woke up presently and they played ball until their mother came back. The twins fell upon her with shrieks of delight, both talking at once. ‘Val—how lovely to see you—I wanted to talk to you…’ Seeing Daisy, she turned to her. ‘Do go home, dear, you must be exhausted—I know I am after several hours of these two.’ She unwound her children’s arms from around her neck. ‘Take Daisy to the gate, darlings, and then go to the kitchen and ask Mrs Betts if she would make a pot of tea for me.’
Daisy got to her feet, reflecting that Lady Thorley’s airy dismissal had been both friendly and expected; she was the daily mother’s help and was treated with more consideration than she had ever had with Mrs Gower-Jones. All the same, she wished that Dr
