came in. ‘Dinner, Buller? Good—and let Goldie and Neptune out, will you?’
They were crossing the hall when the dogs came padding to meet them. They gave muffled barks as he greeted them, and then went to Araminta, looking up at her with liquid brown eyes, ready to be friends. She crouched down, the better to greet them, while their master stood patiently. She looked up, smiling, and saw the look on his face—impatience? Indifference? She wasn’t sure which of the two, but she got to her feet at once, feeling vaguely foolish. He must find her and the children a tiresome hindrance in his busy life.
‘You must wish me at Jericho,’ she said, and instantly wished the words unsaid.
‘My dear young lady, on the contrary. Much as I have an affection for my nephew and niece, the thought of overseeing their daily activities fills me with alarm. You are more than welcome in my house.’
He was smiling and his voice was kind, but she had the feeling that he was thinking about something else.
She was hungry and the food was delicious. Mrs Buller must be a cordon bleu cook: the parsnip soup with just a hint of garlic, the roast pheasant, followed by a treacle tart which melted in the mouth, were witnesses to that. Araminta, quite famished by now, did full justice to the lot, but when the professor suggested that they might have their coffee at the table, she excused herself on the grounds of tiredness. She bade him a cheerful goodnight and wished that she hadn’t seen the quick look of relief on his face; she was aware that she had hardly added to his evening’s enjoyment.
ARAMINTA slept soundly. She was far too sensible to lie awake and speculate about the following day. No doubt it would have its problems, more easily faced after a good night’s sleep. Waking up to find a cheerful young woman with a tea-tray and the information that breakfast was in half an hour was a splendid start to it.
The knowledge that their uncle was at home and expecting to see them at breakfast got Jimmy and Gloria out of bed, dressed and downstairs, without any coaxing on Araminta’s part.
He was already at the breakfast-table and he looked up from reading his post to wish them good morning, but as Araminta came into the room behind them he got out of his chair, enquired politely if she had slept well, and invited her to take a seat at the table.
It was Gloria who asked, ‘Oh, is Araminta going to have her meals with us?’
He offered Araminta a dish of scrambled eggs. ‘Naturally Miss Smith will do so—why do you ask, Gloria?’ His glance was frosty. ‘She has sole charge of both of you while you are here, and be good enough to remember that. I am delighted to have you here, but you will have to fit into my household. Mutt is in the garden with Goldie and Neptune. Jimmy, you will make yourself responsible for him, won’t you? And you, Gloria, will do everything necessary for Tibs. She should be safe enough in the garden as long as you are with her. You will be going out this morning, I dare say?’ He glanced at Araminta, who nodded. ‘Will you take all three dogs with you? The park is only a short walk away. I should be home about five o’clock. We might take the dogs in the car up to Hampstead Heath and give them a good run. Miss Smith will be glad of an hour to herself, I have no doubt.’
He gathered up his post. ‘I’ll give myself a day off on Saturday,’ he told them. ‘Decide what you want to do and let me know.’
The pair of them munched in silence after he had gone, then Jimmy said, ‘We’re quite old enough to look after ourselves…’
‘Well, of course you are,’ said Araminta briskly, ‘but perhaps as you are your uncle’s guests it would be polite to do as he asks. When we’ve had breakfast I’ll go and ask Mrs Buller what time she serves lunch, while you two see to Mutt and Tibs.’
They muttered an answer and she finished her breakfast without haste, talking cheerfully about this and that, ignoring their unfriendly faces, and presently went down to the kitchen, introduced herself to Mrs Buller and sat down at the kitchen table at that lady’s request so that they might discuss the days ahead.
‘Professor Lister don’t come ‘ome for ‘is lunch, miss, just now and then, like.’ Mrs Buller beamed at her and Araminta beamed back at the cosy little woman. ‘Suppose we say one o’clock sharp and tea at four o’clock? Dinner’s at half-past seven when ‘e’s ‘ome— leastways when ‘e isn’t called away. ‘E entertains off and on, you might say, got a lot of friends but no one in particular, if you get my meaning—not a ladies’ man, more’s the pity. ‘E’d make a fine husband. Likes ‘is books…’ Mrs Buller shook her grey head. ‘Now, as to lunch, ‘ow about a nice cheese soufflé? And the children will want chips and I’ll do some baby carrots and a chocolate pudding…’
‘That sounds lovely. I hope we aren’t giving you a lot of extra trouble, Mrs Buller.’
‘Bless you, miss, of course not.’
‘I’ll let Buller know when we go out and where we are going, shall I?’
‘Now that sounds like good sense, miss.’
The morning went rather better than she had expected; the three of them went to the park with the dogs as she had suggested and, although Gloria and Jimmy made no effort to be friendly, at least they fell in with her carefully worded suggestions, couched in a friendly no-nonsense voice. They gave the dogs a good run and got back with just enough time to tidy themselves for lunch. Over the chocolate pudding Araminta broached her suggestion for the afternoon. ‘I don’t know this part of London very well,’ she observed casually. ‘I wondered if we got on a bus and went somewhere—another park, perhaps? We could look around and have a cup of tea, and then bus back in time for your uncle’s return.’
The idea went down well, but they weren’t going to let her have it all her own way.
‘I’d rather go to Richmond,’ said Jimmy.
‘Why not? Would you like to take Mutt?’
He gave her a surprised look and she said calmly, ‘Well, he’s small enough to be carried if he gets tired, isn’t he? Perhaps Tibs ought to have a few minutes in the garden before we go. I’ll go and tell Buller—I don’t expect Goldie and Neptune will need to go out again until we get back.’
The afternoon was a success; they sat overlooking the river, admired the Thames and the country beyond, and found a tea-room before getting a bus back. It had been an expensive outing, reflected Araminta, sitting on her bed counting the change in her purse, but worth every penny. Any minute now the professor would be home, and he would take the children and the dogs on the promised trip to Hampstead Heath…
When she went downstairs he was at home, sitting in his chair by the fire with his dogs at his feet. He got up as she went in, and she said quickly, ‘Oh, you’re home,’ and blushed because it had been a silly thing to say. ‘The children will be down in a few minutes; they’re tidying themselves for the evening.’
‘Sit down, Miss Smith. No difficulties?’
‘None, thank you, Professor.’
The children came then, and she sat quietly while they recounted their day to him. ‘But we’re still going out with you, aren’t we, Uncle?’ asked Gloria.
‘Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Go and get your coats; we’ll go now.’ When they had gone he said, ‘Let me know how much you paid out on my behalf, Miss Smith,’ and when she murmured vaguely, he said, ‘Now if you please.’
So she told him. ‘It’s rather a lot of money, but they did enjoy their tea.’
‘A small price to pay for their enjoyment. Have they seemed worried about their mother and father?’
‘They haven’t said anything to me, but I wouldn’t expect them to…’
The children came back