by Betty Neels
He smiled as he put the letter down, aware that it was Lady Brennon’s dearest wish that he should marry Rita. What could be more suitable? They knew each other well, her husband had been his closest friend and he had a strong affection for Nel. It was all so suitable, and he supposed that it would be a sensible thing to do. His thoughts strayed to Olivia; when he went to school to collect Nel he would make a point of seeing her. He supposed his interest in her had been heightened by the injustice of her dismissal. Now that she was settled he could dismiss her from his mind, where she had been lurking for the past few weeks.
Lady Brennon’s letter had reached Mrs Fitzgibbon at an opportune moment; there had been another letter in the post that morning, for Olivia, regretting that the post of assistant in a West End florist’s had been filled. Olivia, listening to her grandmother’s diatribe on the inability of young women to find suitable employment, allowed most of it to flow over her head—she knew it by heart now. Instead she wondered about Mr van der Eisler. Back in Holland, she supposed, and best forgotten.
A silence from her grandmother made her look up. The old lady was reading the letter in her hand, and when she had finished it she re-read it. She spoke. ‘It is a good thing that I have a number of connections with those of a good background.’ She put the letter down. ‘This is a letter from an old friend who by some remote chance has written to me—you need not concern yourself as to the details.’ She waited for Olivia to say something but, since she had no intention of concerning herself, she went on writing a note for the milkman and remained silent. ‘There is a position at a girls’ school outside Bath—making yourself useful, as far as I can see. The current holder has had to leave for some family reason and the headmistress is anxious to find someone suitable at the earliest possible moment. She suggests that you telephone and make an appointment. The headmistress is coming to London—let me see—tomorrow.’
Olivia felt her grandmother’s beady eyes fixed on her. ‘Just what kind of a job is it, Granny?’
‘How should I know? You must bestir yourself and go and find out for yourself.’
‘After I have talked to Mother. She’ll be back presently, we can talk about it then.’
Mrs Harding thought it might be quite nice. ‘Of course I shall miss you, love, but you’ll have the school holidays.’
‘Yes, Mother. If it were possible, would you come and live there if I get the job—I dare say we could rent a small house nearby.’
‘Oh, darling, that would be lovely, to live in the country again.’ They were in the kitchen with the door shut but all the same she lowered her voice. ‘I’m sure Granny would like to have the flat to herself again. Do go and see this lady.’
So Olivia went, and since it was a fine day and quite warm she wore her jersey dress—like most of her clothes not the height of fashion but still elegant. She hoped the headmistress would like her, for although she didn’t like leaving her mother she would be able to send her money and they might even take a holiday together. Her grandmother, she felt sure, would be only too glad to be rid of them both.
The headmistress, Miss Cross, was middle-aged, plump and good-natured and, when Olivia explained that she had no experience of any sort other than filing documents, waved this aside. ‘Come and see how you get on,’ she suggested. ‘There are still several weeks of this term—almost a month. If you like the work and we like you, then I’ll employ you on a termly basis. You’ll live in, of course—there’s a small annexe you’ll have to yourself. I don’t know if you have a dependant? I’ve no objection to a mother or sister living with you. The salary is fair, I consider, and you get your meals while you’re on duty. You’re not married or anything like that?’
‘No, Miss Cross.’
‘Then you ought to be, a lovely creature like you! Start on Saturday. Let me know what time your train gets to Bath; I’ll have you met.’
Coincidence, good luck, fate—call it what you will, reflected Olivia, now something or someone had allowed her to fall on her feet. She had been at the school for two weeks and she was happy. She wasn’t sure just what she could call herself, for no two days were alike, but being a practical girl she took that in her stride. She plaited small heads of hair, inspected fingernails if Matron was busy, played rounders during the games hour, took prep with the older girls, drove Miss Cross into Bath whenever she needed to go, washed the same small heads of hair, comforted those who had grazed knees and in between these tasks filled in for anyone on the staff who happened to be absent for any reason. It was a good thing that she had been good at games at school, for she found herself on several occasions tearing up and down the hockey pitch blowing her whistle. She had enjoyed it too.
The annexe had been a pleasant surprise. It was small, certainly, but there was a living-room with an alcove used as a kitchen, a shower-room and, up the narrow staircase, two bedrooms just large enough to contain a bed, a chest of drawers and a chair. Whoever had had the place before her had been clever with orange boxes, disguising them as bedside tables, bookshelves and an extra seat with a cushion neatly nailed on to it.
If Miss Cross was to keep her on then there was no reason why her mother shouldn’t come and stay with her, even live with her. The school was in the country, but there was a good bus service into Bath from the village.
Olivia, on this particular Saturday morning, was rounding up the smallest of the girls ready for their weekly swimming lesson in the heated swimming-pool in the school’s basement. The sports mistress would be in charge but Olivia was expected to give a hand, something she enjoyed, for she was a good swimmer and teaching the sometimes unwilling learners was a challenge. She marched them through the school and down the stairs to the basement, saw them into their swimsuits, counted heads, and handed them over to Miss Ross, a small woman with a powerful voice, before going off to get into her own swimsuit.
While Miss Ross got on with the actual teaching Olivia patrolled the pool, swimming slowly, making sure that the children were under her watchful eye, encouraging the faint-hearted to get their feet off the bottom of the pool and applauding those who were splashing their way from one side to the other. Once they were all out of the water she wrapped herself in a robe and went round checking that each child had showered, finding mislaid garments and then collecting up the sopping wet swimsuits. Only when they were all once more dressed and handed over to Miss Ross could she shower and dress herself, before hurrying back to the school to the recreation room where she was expected to dispense hot cocoa and biscuits. It should have been her half-day but the junior housemistress had gone to a wedding, which meant that Olivia would have the charge of fifteen little girls until they were in bed and hopefully asleep. On Sunday it was her turn to shepherd the whole school, under the guidance of Miss Cross and two of the senior teachers, to the village church.
Getting ready for bed that night she owned to being tired but not unhappy. The pleasure of sitting in one’s own small home, drinking a last cup of tea before getting into bed, was by no means overrated. Perhaps she was a born old maid? She dismissed the idea. ‘I shall be quite honest,’ she told herself, since there was no one else to tell, ‘I should like to marry and have a kind and loving husband and a handful of children. Never mind if there isn’t enough money, just enough to live on comfortably, and keep a dog or two, and cats of course, and perhaps a donkey…’
She put down her mug and took herself upstairs to bed.
There was the opportunity to think quietly the next morning; the Reverend Bates’ sermons were long and soothing, a fitting background for her thoughts, and since they were simple and blameless she didn’t suppose that God would mind. The end of term was approaching, she reflected, and she would go back to Granny’s flat for almost three weeks. During that time she would have to see what her mother thought of coming to live with her, always providing Miss Cross decided to keep her. The letters from her mother had been cheerful; Olivia thought that without her her mother and grandmother lived fairly amic
ably together. All the same, it would be nice if her mother was to pay a visit.
She glanced down the row of childish faces under the school straw hats. Perhaps she had found her niche in life. She sighed and a small hand crept into her lap and caught at her fingers, and she made haste to smile down at the upturned little face. It was Nel, a nice child whose Granny lived not too far away. She had confided in Olivia one day that her daddy had died and Mummy lived in Holland, but she was here at school because her Daddy had wanted her to be educated in England. ‘I’m half-Dutch,’ she had said proudly, and instantly Mr van der Eisler’s handsome features had swum before Olivia’s eyes. She had wiped him out at once and suggested a game of Ludo.
With the end of term so near now there was an air of bustle and excitement at the school. Regular lessons gave way to exams, an expedition to the Roman Baths in Bath, while Miss Prosser, who taught history and geography, recited their history, and finally the school play, with its attendant rush and scurry behind the curtains, and then the last morning, with all the little girls—dressed, cases packed, forgotten articles sought for and found—waiting anxiously to be collected.
The first parents arrived soon after breakfast and after them a steady stream of cars. Olivia, finding stray children, tying shoelaces and straightening hats, remembered that she was to drive Miss Cross into Bath that afternoon. When she got back she would be able to pack her own things and by then she would know if she was to return…
Half the children had gone when Nel, standing beside her, gave a squeal of delight. ‘There’s Mummy and Uncle Haso.’ She gave Olivia a poke to make sure that she was listening. ‘We’re going to Holland…’
‘How nice,’ said Olivia, and allowed her lovely mouth to drop open. Mr van der Eisler, accompanied by an elegantly dressed woman with fair hair cut in a boyish crop, was coming towards her.
Her surprise was so absolute that she could think of nothing to say, but Mr van der Eisler, whose surprise wasn’t surprise at all but actually looked genuine, nodded in a friendly way. ‘Olivia—who would have expected to see you here?’
He suffered a hug from Nel and turned to his companion. ‘Rita, this is a young lady who worked at Jerome’s. Nel’s mother, Olivia—Mrs Brennon.’
‘How nice,’ said Mrs Brennon, which could have meant anything. She didn’t shake hands but kissed her daughter and said, ‘Shall we go, Haso? Lady Brennon will be expecting us…’ She smiled briefly at Olivia. ‘Goodbye. I do hope that Nel has been good.’
She didn’t wait for an answer but took Nel’s hand and went to the car.
Mr van der Eisler paused just long enough to ask if she was happy.
‘Oh, very, thank you.’ Just in case he hadn’t been listening, she added, ‘I have never been so happy.’
His, ‘Splendid,’ was uttered in a detached manner, as was his goodbye.
CHAPTER THREE
‘WELL, what did you expect?’ Olivia asked her face in the looking-glass in her bedroom. ‘I dare say he had a job to remember you—she was very attractive, and he’s fond of Nel.’
She started to pack in a half-hearted way, filling in time until Miss Cross was ready to go into Bath.
In Bath she was told to park the car and return in two hours’ time, which meant that she had the leisure to look at the shops and have a cup of tea. On the way back to the school Miss Cross, who had hardly spoken, said, ‘Come to my study before supper this evening, Olivia. You will be returning home tomorrow?’
‘Yes, Miss Cross.’ It would have been nice if she could ask if she was to be given the sack but she didn’t dare. Fate had been tiresome enough without being tempted.
She had almost finished her packing when Miss Cross’s maid came to summon her to the study. It was rather worse than a visit to the dentist, thought Olivia, tapping on the door, and when bidden to enter, she entered.
‘Sit down Olivia.’ Miss Cross looked her usual cosy self, but that was nothing to go by. ‘You have been happy here?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Miss Cross.’
‘Good. You have been most satisfactory—fitted in very well, and the children like you. I am prepared to engage you for the following term, Olivia. The same conditions will apply. You play tennis and croquet?’
‘Yes, Miss Cross.’
‘Good. Please return here two days before the pupils.’ She consulted the desk calendar. ‘That will be the fifteenth of April. Let us know the time of your arrival and you will be met at the station.’ She smiled. ‘You are willing to agree to these arrangements?’
‘Yes, Miss Cross. I shall be happy to come back for the next term.’
‘That is settled, then. I’ll say goodbye now, since you will be leaving in the morning and I shall be engaged until lunchtime.’
Olivia took herself back to her room, dancing along the corridors, humming cheerfully. I may be an old maid, she reflected, but at least I’m a happy one.
It was raining when she arrived at Sylvester Crescent and the row of prim houses looked unwelcoming, but her mother was at the window looking out for her so that she forgot the sudden pang of homesickness for the school. They talked and laughed together, happy to see each other again, until Mrs Fitzgibbon came to join them.
She offered a cheek for Olivia’s kiss. ‘I was resting but of course your voices disturbed me. Are you back for good?’
‘No, just for the Easter holidays. You look well, Granny.’
‘My looks have never pitied me, I keep my sufferings to myself.’
Olivia winked at her mother and went to get the tea. Granny was only bearable if one treated her as a joke.
Her mother came into the kitchen presently. ‘It’s only because Granny had her nap disturbed,’ she explained, looking worried. ‘I’m sure she’s very glad to see you, love.’
Olivia warmed the teapot. ‘Yes, dear. How do you like the idea of coming to stay with me for a week or two during the term? I won’t be free, of course, but there’s a good bus service into Bath and I’ll be there in the evenings once I’m off-duty.’
‘I’d like that, darling. I won’t be in the way?’
Olivia gave her parent a hug. ‘Never, my dear. The country’s lovely and the village is sweet—very close to Bath, of course, but it’s still country.’
Life was a little dull after the bustle of school but she had saved a good deal of her salary and took her mother out and about on modest expeditions.
‘This is lovely,’ said Mrs Harding, perched on top of a sightseeing bus, doing the rounds of the famous landmarks. ‘It all looks quite different from up here.’ She turned to look at Olivia. ‘I think your grandmother is quite pleased to have the flat to herself. She’s been on her own for so long now, it must be tiresome for her to have me there all the time.’
Olivia nodded. ‘I know, Mother. I hope that after this next term Miss Cross might take me on permanently, then you can come and live with me. The annexe is small but there’s room for two. You could join the WI again, and help with the church flowers and do the shopping. It would be like old times.’
There were two days left of her holiday when Mrs Fitzgibbon, answering the phone, said, ‘It’s for you, Olivia. A man—surely not Rodney? You had better take it.’
She handed over the receiver to Olivia and sat back in her chair, shamelessly eavesdropping.
‘Yes?’ She spoke sharply.
‘Cold steel,’ said Mr van der Eisler in her ear. ‘Did you think that it was Rodney?’
She turned her back on her grandmother so that that lady wouldn’t see the pleased smile on her face. ‘No, it’s the surprise.’
‘I shall be driving Nel back to her school; we’ll collect you on the way.’
‘Oh, but I…’
‘Go back two days earlier, so Nel tells me. She is going to stay with her grandmother before she returns to school.’
‘Oh—well.’
‘Olivia, I must beg you to stop bleating and listen to what I have to say. We shall call for you in two days’ tim
e. Ten o’clock in the morning.’
He rang off without so much as a goodbye and she put down the receiver.
‘Who was that?’ demanded her grandmother. ‘You didn’t have much to say for yourself.’
‘There was no need,’ said Olivia, and went in search of her mother.
Waiting for him to arrive two mornings later, her mother said, ‘I’ve made some coffee, Olivia. Do you suppose he’ll drink it?’
‘Mother, I have no idea. He sounded so businesslike on the phone. Perhaps he’s in a tearing hurry to get to Nel’s granny.’
‘Well, it’s ready if he wants it,’ said Mrs Harding. ‘But I do hope he stops for just a few minutes—your grandmother is anxious to see him.’
‘I was afraid of that,’ said Olivia.
He was punctual, standing there at the front door, handsome, self-assured and elegant in his tweeds. Nel was hanging out of the car window and Olivia said at once, ‘Oh, do come in. Nel might like a drink and the coffee’s ready. Unless you’re in a tearing hurry?’
‘Coffee would be nice and I’m sure Nel wants to see where you live.’
He opened the car door for the little girl, who skipped up to Olivia and lifted her face for a kiss. ‘I’m so glad you’re coming back to school,’ she declared. ‘I hope you stay there forever and ever.’
Olivia stooped her splendid person. ‘How very kind of you to say so, Nel. Come in and have a glass of lemonade.’
Her mother came into the hall then, and Mr van der Eisler shook her hand and smiled down at her and said all the right things in his pleasant voice before Nel was introduced too.
