by Betty Neels
There was a ripple of excitement and everyone began to talk at once. Roast beef forgotten on their plates, they started making their plans. It was Mrs Pettifer who said quietly to Henrietta, ‘You can stay at the lodge for the two weeks—take day trips during your holiday and look after yourself and the cats. You won’t mind being alone while I’m away?’
Henrietta said, ‘Of course not,’ rather too quickly, but she smiled widely and they all nodded and smiled back, relieved that she would be content.
‘A pity the child hasn’t somewhere to go,’ said Mrs Pettifer as she drank a last cup of tea with the housekeeper.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MR ROSS-PITT, informed of the happenings at the manor a week later, ate his dinner and allowed his thoughts free rein. There was no reason, he told himself, why he should bother with Henrietta. She was quite happy where she was. All the same, later that evening, working at his desk, he put down his pen and reached for the phone.
* * *
HENRIETTA GAVE A good deal of thought to her holiday; to go away was out of the question—she couldn’t afford it; besides, where would she go? Addy was going to a Butlins camp with her boyfriend. ‘It’s grand,’ she told Henrietta. ‘Lots of fun, you know—dancing and concerts and such—never a dull moment.’ She frowned. ‘But I don’t know as how I’d like to go on me own.’
Mrs Pettifer had a sister living in Wiltshire, Cook had a brother in Clapham Common; everyone had somewhere to go, but they were careful not to talk too much about it when Henrietta was there.
There wasn’t much leisure to talk anyway; several of the rooms were to be closed while the Hensens were away, rooms had to be got ready for the two men who were coming to stay, luggage had to be brought down from the vast attics and Cook was busy filling the freezer so that those left behind could be properly fed in her absence.
* * *
THE HOUSE SEEMED very quiet two weeks later as Henrietta went to her dinner after seeing Mrs Pettifer on her way. Feathers handed her a letter as she sat down.
‘For me? I don’t know anyone...’ She looked at the postmark, but it was faint and smudged.
‘Open it and see,’ someone suggested.
It was from Matty, penned in a spidery hand. She had written:
It would be nice to see you again. I wonder if you get any holidays? If you do, would you consider coming here for a few days and keeping me company? I don’t go out much and you would be welcome any time. I expect you’re busy now the tourist season is starting, but I thought I’d write just in case you get a few days off. Perhaps you’ve already made arrangements, and it might be dull for you here, but I would dearly like the company!
Henrietta read the letter through once more and then glanced up at the faces watching her. ‘It’s from an old lady who lives at Tollesbury. I—I met her a little while ago...’ She had better explain about Mr Ross-Pitt, she thought, and they all listened, nodding and smiling, just as though it were news to them. Long since, Mrs Pettifer had told them all about her visit to the old lady but no one said a word, only expressed delight at this unexpected treat coming Henrietta’s way.
Feathers spoke. ‘If this lady is on the telephone you may ring from here, Henrietta, and arrange to go and see her. That is if you wish to go.’
‘Oh, I do, Mr Feathers. It was wonderful—do you suppose I could go for the whole week? Would that be too long?’
‘Certainly not. I gather that the lady lives alone?’
‘Yes. She is elderly, but she isn’t lonely, I think.’
‘You will be a new face, someone fresh to talk to. Eat your dinner and then go and telephone. You may use the one in the office.’
Matty’s old voice sounded pleased. ‘Come for as long as you like. You’ll have to catch a bus and change, but I’ll be here waiting for you—Saturday, you said? A whole week of company. I’ll enjoy that, my dear. You won’t find it dull?’
‘Dull? Oh, Matty, no. I can’t wait to see you and the sea, and the marshes.’
Matty put the phone down and then picked it up again. Mr Adam might say that his only interest in Henrietta was to see that she had a bit of a holiday, but Matty knew better even if he didn’t.
* * *
HENRIETTA HAD WORKED out how to get to Tollesbury—bus to Braintree, bus to Maldon and then another bus. An awkward journey, but she would have only a weekend bag with her and she would start out early in the morning. She didn’t like leaving Dickens and Ollie, although she knew that they would be well cared for by the rest of the staff. They were happy and contented, though, secure and well fed, sure of a willing lap to curl up on.
She packed her two new dresses, a cardigan, a couple of blouses, crammed in her quilted jacket, bade goodbye to Dickens and Ollie, and, seen off by Feathers, went down to the village to catch the early morning bus.
History repeated itself. She hadn’t been standing at the bus stop for more than a minute when Mr Ross-Pitt drew up beside her. His good morning was uttered with just the right amount of pleasant surprise. ‘Off on your travels?’ he wanted to know.
She turned a beaming face to his, delighted to see him, if only for a moment. ‘Matty has invited me to go and stay with her.’
His look of surprise seemed genuine; he should have been an actor.
‘Matty? But I’m on my way to see her! I’ve managed a free day and I thought I’d surprise her. That’s splendid.’ He got out of the car and picked up her bag, put it in the boot and opened the car door. ‘We’ll be there in time for coffee.’
She hesitated, oblivious of the interested faces turned in their direction. ‘Oh, but if you’re going—I mean, I could go tomorrow...’
‘You prefer not to be seen with me?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mr Ross-Pitt. You know what I mean; Matty might like to have you to herself.’
The bus creeping up behind them settled the matter. Mr Ross-Pitt tossed her into the car, bade the queue good morning, waved to the bus driver and got in beside her. ‘I have never met such a girl for arguing,’ he observed mildly.
Watson poked a friendly nose between them, and she put up a hand to stroke him. ‘Well, at least you are civil to him,’ said Mr Ross-Pitt.
‘Civil? Of course I’m civil,’ began Henrietta, still smarting from the indignity of being shoved into the car, however gently. ‘You didn’t ask me if I wanted to come.’ Her ill humour suddenly left her. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean a word of that; it’s just that I was taken by surprise.’
‘Good. You can come off your high horse and tell me how you managed to get a holiday.’
He listened to her explaining, knowing all about it anyway, but expressing interest and surprise with just the right degree of attention. ‘Matty will be delighted,’ he observed. ‘You’ll be trotted round the village to visit her friends. How long are you staying?’ He sounded casual.
‘Until next Saturday. I have to be back by six o’clock in the evening.’
‘I’ll fetch you, and before you think of any number of reasons why I shouldn’t I must tell you that I had already planned to visit Matty next weekend. There are some papers she must sign; I shall leave them with her today.’
Which sounded reasonable enough to Henrietta.
* * *
THEY WERE GIVEN a warm welcome when they reached Matty’s little house.
‘Well, isn’t this just lovely?’ she exclaimed. ‘Seeing you again, Henrietta, and now Mr Adam coming so unexpected-like. There’s coffee ready and waiting, and a seed cake. Come along in, do.’
He didn’t stay long; he took Henrietta’s bag upstairs to the little bedroom over the porch, drank his coffee and ate most of the cake and then, while Henrietta tactfully went upstairs to unpack, had his talk with Matty.
Whatever it was about it had made the old lady very cheerful, she reflec
ted when she went downstairs again, just in time to thank Mr Ross-Pitt and wish him goodbye. They stood at the door and waved until he was out of sight and she hugged the happy thought to herself that she would see him again in a week’s time.
* * *
THE WEEK WHICH followed was one which she knew she would never forget. Matty might have been old, but she had the heart and brain of a girl concealed by the manner of an ideal granny. She had no difficulty in getting Henrietta to tell her about her childhood and rather dreary upbringing, her efforts to make a life for herself and her lack of money.
‘What a good thing that Mr Adam should have stumbled over you,’ she observed, and, seeing the colour creep into Henrietta’s cheeks, went on chattily, ‘and even better that Lady Hensen wanted help at the manor. One thing leads to another, and just think, if he hadn’t seen you in Thaxted and brought you here with him I might never have known you.’
‘Or I you,’ said Henrietta. ‘It’s so—so comforting, if you see what I mean, having someone. I don’t know how to say it...’
Matty patted her arm. ‘No need, dearie; I understand exactly how you feel. Now, if you’re ready, we’ll pop across the square and see if Mrs Watkins has got that wool I ordered. I knit the thick socks Mr Adam wears inside his rubber boots. Very careless he is about looking after himself properly. He needs a wife.’
Henrietta very nearly told Matty about Deirdre Stone then, but she stopped herself just in time. It was none of her business, and probably Matty knew about her anyway.
She learned a great deal about his family in those days. His mother was a fine lady, said Matty, and so kind and thoughtful of everyone. His father too—he’d been a surgeon but now he had retired. They lived in the north—the coast of Northumberland—in a fine house. She heard about his sisters too; Matty was a fount of knowledge, although she didn’t gossip. Obviously she was a loyal and devoted servant to the family and always would be.
Each afternoon Matty retired to her room to have what she called ‘a little lay down’ and Henrietta roamed the surrounding countryside and seashore until teatime. The weather, while not high summer, was pleasantly warm even when it rained, and she went most days across the marshes down to the sea, but once or twice she found her way to the small shipyard on one of the creeks, and the men working there told her to feel free to look around her. They took time off to explain their work to her and told her that she was welcome to go again whenever she wished.
She and Matty had been to the vicarage to tea one afternoon and there she had met the vicar’s eldest son, an earnest young man at a theological college. David was astonished to hear that she walked down to the shore. ‘It’s quite a distance,’ he pointed out, ‘even if you take the path along the estuary.’
‘It’s a glorious walk,’ she returned, ‘and I love to look at the sea.’
‘It can very rough in winter.’ They were walking round the vicarage garden on their way to pick rhubarb for Matty. He said stiffly, ‘I hope we shall see more of each other. Are you free at weekends?’
‘A day and a half. This is my annual holiday. I’m very lucky to have one; I’ve only been with Sir Peter and Lady Hensen for three months or so.’
‘I’m going back to college next week. When I’m on holiday again, perhaps we could spend a day together.’
‘That would be nice. Thank you. Will you be ordained soon?’
‘Not for another eighteen months.’ He bent to pull the rhubarb. ‘There are some charming villages in this part of Essex; we might see something of them?’
‘I’d like that very much.’ She took some of the rhubarb from him and they went back to the house presently. Then she bade the vicar and his wife goodbye and walked Matty back to her cottage.
‘A nice young man, David,’ observed Matty as they made their leisurely way through the village.
‘Yes. I expect he’ll make a good clergyman.’ Henrietta added, ‘He suggested that when he was on holiday again and I had a free day we might go and look at some of the villages round here. I thought that was very kind of him.’
‘Very,’ agreed Matty, and stored that little piece of news away to tell Mr Adam when he came. Playing Cupid at my age, she told herself, with an inward chuckle; I ought to know better!
* * *
ON SATURDAY MORNING Henrietta took extra pains with her appearance. She washed her hair, searched—in vain—for spots on her face, applied cream and powder and lipstick and got into the green dress and went down to breakfast. Matty offered her a boiled egg and toast and remarked, ‘That’s a pretty dress, dearie. A pity that you screw up your hair in that French pleat—don’t you ever let it hang loose with a ribbon?’
‘Well, no, Matty. We always had to plait our hair at the children’s home and I’ve worn it like this since then; it seemed more—more businesslike.’
‘You may be right, but it’s a nice head of hair, all the same.’
Henrietta helped with the washing-up then skipped upstairs to make the beds and tidy the bedrooms and bathroom while Matty busied herself in the kitchen—‘For Mr Adam will be wanting his coffee when he comes.’
Come he did, accompanied by the faithful Watson and unloading a box from the boot. He kissed Matty, carried the box into the kitchen, put it on the table and bent to kiss Henrietta too, standing there pouring the coffee.
He stood back and studied her. ‘You’ve got colour in your cheeks at last, and you’re nicely plump.’
Her pink cheeks weren’t entirely due to the fresh air and sunshine. ‘I’ve had the most marvellous holiday.’ Her eyes shone; she looked almost pretty.
‘You haven’t been lonely?’
‘Not for one moment. Matty knows everyone, doesn’t she? We’ve visited so many people and I’ve been down to the boat yard and we went to the vicarage for tea.’
Mr Ross-Pitt allowed himself an inward chuckle at such unsophisticated pleasures. ‘Was David at home? He’s at training college...’
‘Yes, he showed me the garden. When he comes on holiday again, he said that he would take me to see some of the villages around here—that is, if I’m free to go.’
‘Did he?’ Mr Ross-Pitt was conscious of a sharp prick of annoyance. His voice was cold and she looked at him in surprise. Matty came in then, and he was instantly his old placid self so that she supposed that she had fancied it.
Since she was to go back with him after their lunch, she said that she would go upstairs and finish her packing. It would give Matty a chance to talk to him. It took less than five minutes to stuff everything into her bag, so she sat down on her bed and looked out of the window and wished she could stay for ever.
She had walked down through the marshes on the previous evening to say her goodbye to the sea; she had done the rounds in the village, wishing everyone goodbye and she had got up very early that morning, stripped her bed and started the washing machine, so that by the time Matty had come down for breakfast the sheets and the bedlinen were already drying on the old-fashioned clothes line in the back garden.
She had vacuumed and dusted her room too, but it worried her that Matty would have extra housework after she had gone—ironing, and all the small chores which were inevitable with visitors.
She glanced at her watch—a necessity that she had had to buy for herself—and decided to stay upstairs for another ten minutes or so—Matty would have a lot to talk about...
Matty had a great deal to say. Adam listened patiently to a blow-by-blow account of the week’s activities. ‘Such a dear child,’ said Matty, ‘and very well able to look after herself too. Makes friends wherever she goes, she does. That David up at the vicarage was fair taken with her. Going to take her out for the day when they can fix it up.’ Matty cast her listener a sly glance. ‘She could do worse, and so could he.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Ross-Pitt mildly. ‘Love’s young dream.’
Matty tut-tutted. ‘That I wouldn’t know. But if I know Henrietta she’s not marrying a man she doesn’t love; she’d rather stay single.’
‘How do you know that, Matty?’
‘I feel it in my bones. And more’s the pity, for I doubt she gets much chance to meet the right man, and even if she does who’s to know if he’ll feel the same?’
‘Well, let us hope that things turn out well for her. I’m in your debt, Matty, for taking such good care of her.’
‘Bless you, Mr Adam, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. She’s more than welcome to come whenever she can. And I’ve told her that.’
There was a short silence. ‘And what about you, Mr Adam, if I might be so bold? I did hear from Mrs Dale that you was thinking of matrimony...?’ She paused to glance at his face; there was no expression on it—a bad sign—but she went on. ‘A Miss Stone, she told me—very smart and handsome.’
‘Indeed, Miss Stone is both smart and handsome; she caused quite a sensation when she came to stay with her mother. Mrs Stone knew my mother, you know, years ago, but they occasionally correspond. Which reminds me, Mother is coming down to see you very shortly. She’ll be staying with me for a few days; I’ll bring her over.’
‘That’ll be a real pleasure, Mr Adam.’ He hadn’t answered any of her questions, Matty reflected, and wondered why. Perhaps he didn’t know the answers himself.
When Henrietta came down Mr Ross-Pitt got to his feet. ‘I’ll take Watson for a quick run while you get lunch,’ he suggested. ‘I’d like to leave around two o’clock; I’m due back in town this evening.’
