by Betty Neels
`With pleasure, sir.' And Dodge did that rare thing, he smiled.
Watching the Bentley's tail-lights disappear along the village street, Eulalia reminded herself that allowing Mr van Linssen to occupy her thoughts was a waste of time, and downright dangerous now that she had at last admitted to herself that she liked him after all. Her efforts to forget him were frustrated by Peter, who wished to talk about him at length, and despite herself she found that she was talking about him with as much enthusiasm as Peter.
The next day, however, with Peter at school, she
shut him from her mind, although he did have a nasty way of popping back into her thoughts at odd moments. Still, she had a lot to do before she caught the bus to visit Trottie in the afternoon. Peter was to go back with the rector's son until she got home, and Jacob had promised to feed and exercise Charlie and keep an eye on Blossom. The village, sympathetic to a man, were only too willing to help in any way that they could. She shopped quickly, prepared a meal for the evening, packed the things Trottie had asked for and caught the bus to Cirencester.
Trottie looked quite her old self. 'I've been out of bed,' she said proudly. 'Home by the end of the week, Mr Wyatt said. You're managing, Miss Lally?'
Eulalia assured her that she was, handing over the knitting, several magazines, more nighties and the last of the roses from the garden before sitting down to talk.
`That's a nice man, that Mr Dodge,' said Trottie. `We got on a treat. Fair took to him, I did.'
`He is nice,' agreed Eulalia. 'He and Peter get on famously.'
`He's devoted to Mr van Linssen, thinks the world of him.' She looked at Eulalia over her spectacles. `Says he works too hard, loves his work.'
Since Eulalia made no reply to this, she began to talk about something else and didn't mention him again. As Eulalia said goodbye she observed, Not
very happy, are you, Miss Lally? Still bothering about the cottage and the money?'
`No, no, I'm going to see Mr Willett tomorrow and then forget about it.'
But we can't manage unless you get a job, and I'll not be of much use for a bit.'
`Don't worry about it, -Trottie, of course we'll manage, we always have. It'll be lovely to have you back, we do miss you. I'll be in tomorrow about the same time.'
Going back in the bus she pondered the future. She would have to ask Mr Willett to delay the payment of the rent for a few weeks. The money could be paid back at once, the sooner the better, although she would miss it fearfully, and as soon as Trottie could be left alone she would find work in Cirencester or Malmesbury. There was no good in brooding over it.
She showed a cheerful face to Peter when she collected him from the Rectory, and regaled him with a description of her visit to Trottie over their supper. `I' m going again tomorrow, Peter, but I won't go the next day because it's your half-day from school and I thought we might go and look for cob-nuts.'
She saw Mr Willett the next day and was a little surprised that he agreed readily to return what money remained in the bank. 'As to the rent of the cottage, there is no hurry for that, for Mr van Linssen's solicitor hasn't decided how much it will be. I'll let you know in due course.'
When she saw Trottie she told her that everything had been arranged and there was absolutely no need to think any more about it. 'And I'll not come tomorrow, Trottie, since it's Peter's half-day, but I'll be in the following day.'
When next she saw Trottie she was sitting out of bed, her plastered leg supported on a pillowed stool and a vase of yellow roses on the table beside her. `Nice, eh?' she wanted to know as Eulalia bent to kiss her. 'That nice Mr Dodge came to see me yesterday, would you believe it? Brought them roses and a great box of chocolates and stayed talking for an hour or more. Said he had a bit of time to himself and fancied a nice drive into the country. We had ever such a nice talk.'
`Trottie, you've got a beau!'
`Go on with you, Miss Lally, and me nigh on sixty. Mr Dodge—he's sixty next month—don't mean to leave Mr van Linssen's service, been with him for years.' Her usually cheerful voice sounded wistful. 'He did say he might pop down again some time—wants to show me an old cookery-book he had from his granny. He still uses the recipes in it.' She added, 'Mr van Linssen's been in Scotland, operating on some bigwig, then he went to Ireland to operate on some poor men who had their kneecaps shot away. He's a dab hand with bones, Mr Dodge said.'
The village rallied round when Trottie came home; the local taxi fetched her and refused to take his fare, the butcher supplied his choicest leg of
lamb, the greengrocer carried up a basket of vegetables and the baker offered a cake, and Mr Wedge, not to be outdone, delivered a dozen bottles of milk stout. She held court for several days, sitting in the living-room, and stumped around on her crutches, making sure Eulalia was keeping the kitchen as she liked it. She slept in the dining-room, for the stairs were beyond her, on a bed Eulalia had borrowed from the Boy and Horseshoe, and life quickly settled down again. But it wasn't safe to leave her, Eulalia had decided. She would have to wait until Trottie had had her plaster changed and was quite confident on her crutches.
Trottie had been home for two weeks when Mr Dodge arrived in the Rover. He had brought flowers again and a basket of fruit, not the apples and pears which were so easy to come by in the village, but pineapples and grapes and hot-house peaches. He stayed for tea, and since he had come soon after lunch Eulalia felt free to go into Cirencester once more and see Mr Willett. Not that she got any satisfaction from that gentleman. There was no news of the rent, she was told, these things took time. So she went back home and found Trottie and Mr Dodge in the kitchen making cucumber sandwiches and toasting tea-cakes. A prosaic occupation and yet she detected a distinct whiff of romance.
It wasn't until he was on the point of going that he handed Eulalia an envelope. It contained a
scrawled note from Mr van Linssen, informing her that he would be coming the following morning to take Trottie to the hospital. 'About ten o'clock,' said Dodge, 'if Miss Trott could be ready by then. I am to say that there will be no need for you to accompany her and she will be brought back as soon as possible.'
`Is something wrong?' Eulalia looked anxiously at Dodge. 'There's nothing in this note...'
`I apprehend that Miss Trott is to be examined to make sure that the wound on her leg has healed properly.' He added with an air of reproach, 'Mr van Linssen would have told you if there was anything you should know.'
She agreed meekly.
Mr van Linssen arrived at ten o'clock the next day, pleasantly refused the coffee she offered, and lost no time in packing Trottie neatly into the car. His manner was brisk. Obviously he was a man with no time to waste, although he spared a moment to tumble Charlie and lay a gentle finger on Blossom. Rather daunted by his manner, Eulalia offered lunch on their return. It was refused with polite regret, so that she said with a sudden burst of temper, 'I can't think why you should spend your valuable time driving all this way. We are most grateful, of course, but I can easily hire a car next time.'
He turned at the door as he left the cottage, and gave her a look—it was a look to melt her bones and she took a step backwards, blinded by the sud-
den shock of it. This was neither the time nor the place in which to fall in love, and if she wasn't careful she would make a fool of herself. It was a mercy that he didn't like her overmuch; everything he had done for them was because he liked Peter...
He got into the car and drove away and she made herself smile and wave to Trottie, wedged into the back seat, but alone in the small sitting-room there was no need to smile. She felt overwhelming relief that she hadn't lost her head and flung herself at him, but he had looked at her...
She must have been mistaken. His manner had been brusque, even if polite. She would need to match her manner with his, and once Trottie was well there would be no need to see him again—she had said that several times already and each time Fate had stepped in.
Anxious to forget her un
happy thoughts, she flung herself into an orgy of housework.
The morning became noon and then afternoon and there was no sign of them. Eulalia ate a sandwich and made a cup of coffee and tidied herself. They would certainly want tea...
She was in the kitchen and didn't hear the Bentley's silent stop. They were in the sitting-room before she realised it. She cast a satisfied eye over the scones she had just taken from the oven, switched on the kettle and went to meet them.
Mr van Linssen was helping Trottie off with her coat. 'Everything is exactly as it should be,' he ob-
served. 'In a few weeks the plaster can be changed and in the meantime she may get around on her crutches, as long as she doesn't get tired.'
`That's great. Tea's ready.' Eulalia didn't quite look at him.
`I must leave you to enjoy it. I've an engagement this evening.'
His Ursula, of course. She said brightly, 'Oh, I'm sorry you can't stay. Thank you for coming—it made it so easy for Trottie.'
She saw him to the door, looking no higher than his chin and longing for him to kiss her again. But he didn't. He said nothing at all, shook Trottie's hand and was gone, all within the space of a few minutes.
`I made some scones,' said Eulalia. 'I thought he might have stayed, but of course he wouldn't want to, would he? Not after the fuss about the money and the cottage. Perhaps I should have said something about it...'
`Best leave well alone,' said Trottie, 'and I could do with one of those scones, love. I had a nice lunch at the hospital while my plaster was drying. Ever so kind they were, all trooping around behind Mr van Linssen like the stars around the sun. Real famous he is, so one of the nurses told me, travels all over the place putting bones to rights.'
Eulalia listened eagerly. Any crumb of news about him was to be treasured and sorted and stored away. Loving him, she could see, would be a great waste of time but she wasn't sure how to stop it. Perhaps
once she had got over the first delicious thrill of it she would be able to damp it down.
She fetched the scones and made the tea and listened to Trottie's account of her day, and presently she went to fetch Peter from the Rectory and the evening's activities swamped any private thoughts.
The weeks went by, enlivened by visits from Dodge, carrying flowers for Trottie and sweets for Peter. They looked forward to seeing him although, to Eulalia's sorrow, he never mentioned Mr van Linssen. It was obvious that he was taken with Trottie and she with him; they went for short, careful walks together and Trottie looked ten years younger. It seemed very likely that they would marry, and Eulalia, while happy to know that her friend's future was secure, wondered how best she could rearrange her own. If and when Trottie married Dodge she would, of course, take her pension with her and there would be no money at all. The problem would be to find work which fitted in with being at home for Peter when he got back from school each day. It would have to fit in with the buses going either to Cirencester or Malmesbury and allow her to be at home when he returned. It was a worry which kept her awake at night, one which she felt she couldn't share with Trottie.
It wasn't until Dodge had driven away on one of the frequent visits that Trottie said, 'Miss Lally, dear, Dodge and me are wishful to marry, but not until the
time's right. Dodge will tell Mr van Linssen and bide by what he says.'
Eulalia gave her a hug and wished her happy and said light-heartedly that she and Dodge were made for each other. 'He's a good man, Trottie, and I know you'll be happy. What fun to have a wedding in the family.' Later, though, when Trottie had gone to bed, she sat in the kitchen, staring at the wall, wishing with all her heart that by some mysterious means Fenno van Linssen would come and sort out her life for her.
Had she but known, that was exactly what he was doing. Dodge had apprised him of his wish to marry Trottie and he had expressed pleased surprise, delighted that his attempt to play Cupid had been so successful.
`We would wish to remain in your service, sir,' said Dodge.
`Well, of course—I couldn't manage without you,
Dodge, and having Miss Trott is a bonus, isn't it?' `Certainly it is, sir. But what about Miss Lally?' `Ah, yes, a matter which must be looked into as
soon as possible.'
Dodge went back to his kitchen, leaving Mr van Linssen to sit back in his chair and allow his thoughts to dwell upon Eulalia. A proud piece, he reflected lovingly, who would probably deny her love out of sheer cussedness. It was, he decided, time to do something about that, but first things first.
He had had a long day—six hours in Theatre, a ward round, several private patients to see at the end of the afternoon—nevertheless, that evening he drove to Ursula's home. He should be feeling guilty, he thought, at putting an end to their engagement, but it had weeks ago become a farce. Ursula had relied on her pretty face and amusing manner to attract him, and once they had become engaged she had allowed her selfishness and impatience at his work to take over. He had known for some time that she was marrying him for his money and position and not because she loved him, and he, knowing this, had lost any feeling for her long ago—since, he had to admit, he had walked into the flower shop and seen Eulalia...
The maid answered the door, and when he asked if Miss Kendall was at home she said in a fluster, `Yes, sir, in the drawing-room, but I don't know...'
He didn't wait to hear the rest of it but went up the staircase two at a time and opened the imposing door. Ursula was there, so was the American he had met at the dinner party. They were so closely locked in each other's arms that neither of them saw Fenno for a few moments.
He didn't say anything, but stood leaning against the door, smiling a little. Kindly Fate was helping his plans along very nicely. It was Ursula who broke the silence. 'So here you are, ready to spend half an hour with me out of your precious day—well, you needn't bother! I've decided not to marry you. I'd
die of boredom within a month.' She gave him a defiant look. 'I'm going to marry Wilbur.'
Mr van Linssen strolled across the room. 'We met at a dinner party some weeks ago, did we not?' He shook hands with the man. 'Congratulations, and you, Ursula. I do hope you will be very happy.' He bent and pecked her cheek and she began to tug the ring off her finger. 'No. Oh, no, keep it. What would I want with a diamond ring?' He smiled a little. Eulalia would get his grandmother's old-fashioned sapphire and rose diamond ring, handed down from one bride to the next. He said blandly, 'I won't interrupt your plans for the evening. I'll see myself out.'
He left the house, whistling cheerfully. He wasn't in the least tired and he still had a good deal of planning to do.
CHAPTER NINE
MR DODGE came on the following Friday, but he came in Mr van Linssen's car and Mr van Linssen was driving. Eulalia was in the kitchen baking an apple tart and it was Trottie who stumped to the door on her crutches and let them in.
She lifted her face with the unselfconsciousness of a child for Dodge's kiss, and was kissed in turn by Mr van Linssen. 'She's in the kitchen,' she said. `Arthur, help me on with my coat. We'll go to the Boy and Horseshoe and get a bottle of sherry. I dare say there'll be coffee by the time we get back.'
Dodge allowed his features to relax into a smile and Mr van Linssen laughed. 'I haven't wished you happy yet. I do with all my heart—Dodge is a lucky man.'
Eulalia had heard their voices, and when he opened the kitchen door she was standing, the rolling-pin in her hand, her face pale, her heart thumping nineteen to the dozen. He closed the door gently behind him and said, 'Hello, Eulalia. Do you intend to whack me with that rolling-pin?'
She was having trouble with her breath. 'No, no. I—I'm surprised. I'm making apple tart—that's all.' He came up to the table. 'Oh, good, for I have
come, so to speak, holding an olive-branch in my hand.'
`An olive-branch?' she repeated stupidly. 'What for?'
`I believe that it is Peter's half-term on Thursday?' When she nodded, he added, 'I'm going to Holland that day —pe
rhaps he might like to come with me, and you too, of course.'
`Go with you? To Holland?' She gathered her scattered wits together. 'We haven't passports.'
`A minor detail. Will you come, Eulalia?' He smiled at her then, and she picked up the rolling-pin again so that she need not look at him.
`We can't—Charlie and Blossom—and I won't leave Trottie alone.'
`Well, of course not. Dodge will come and stay with her and look after things.'
He had an answer for everything.
She tried again, still studying the rolling-pin. `Miss Kendall—is she going to Holland with you?'
`No, no. I rather think that in the near future she will be going to the States. A most suitable match, I gather, although I deplore his taste in ties.' She raised her eyes long enough to inspect his—Italian silk, richly sombre and probably wildly expensive. He went on in a casual voice, 'We—er—agreed to differ on the subject of marrying.'
`None of this has anything to do with me,' said Eulalia in a high voice.
`Don't be a silly girl. All I am doing is offering
Peter and you a few days' holiday. You will stay at my home but I shall be away almost all of the time. Is it not a good opportunity for Dodge and Trottie to get to know each other?' He added in a smug voice, 'We mustn't be selfish.'
She rolled the pastry for an unnecessary length of time. 'Would you take Peter alone? There's really no need for me to go with him.'
`My dear girl, am I expected to see that he changes his socks and washes behind his ears?'
`No. Isn't there another woman there to do that?' She glanced up and saw his smile. 'Oh, yes, several. You will be quite safe, Eulalia.'
`Well, I'll have to think about it.' She tried to sound cool but her voice wobbled a bit at the thought of spending several days with him.
