Burns said calmly: ‘I suspect you’ve got it wrong, darling; Uncle Gideon’s been using grown up language and it doesn’t quite mean the same as the things we talk about.’
‘Nanny frowned at him…’
Mrs Burns looked at Deborah. ‘He may be a professor, but he has his lighter moments—he can be very tiresome— I’m always telling him so, aren’t I, darlings?’
With no effect at all, thought Deborah.
Later, with the children in bed, over dinner with Mrs Burns Deborah gave a blow by blow account of her days. ‘So you see, they’ve been very good, and great fun too.’
‘Splendid. Don’t go rushing off, will you?’ Mrs Burns turned persuasive eyes on to Deborah. ‘Bill will be home late tomorrow; the children will go berserk, they always do, and they’ll need someone to make them eat and go to bed and so on, so please stay for a little longer—unless you’ve another job waiting?’
‘Well, I haven’t actually—and of course I’ll stay until you don’t need me.’
‘Oh, good! What a relief. My mother wants to see the children, I thought we might drive over after Bill gets home and let her see them for a few minutes. She dotes on them and it’ll do her good.’
Mrs Burns suddenly looked very young and sad. ‘Oh, Nanny I was so frightened. I thought Mother wasn’t going to get better. Thank heaven Gideon came, he’s so sensible and always knows what to do, just like Bill, I mean he’d got everything organised within an hour of his getting there and he was so sure that Mother was going to get better that I believed him—he was calm and certain about it. He is such a dear, don’t you agree?’
‘He’s a marvellous uncle,’ said Deborah guardedly and Mrs Burns looked at her, a flicker of amusement in her eyes although she didn’t say anything.
It was difficult to keep the children even moderately quiet the next day, by the time their father arrived they were in bed, wide awake, and since it was quite obvious that they had no intention of going to sleep until he had got home, Deborah sat between their beds, reading soothingly from Little Grey Rabbit and very relieved when at last they heard a car turn into the drive and stop before the house. There was no holding the twins; she got them into their dressing gowns, thrust wriggling impatient feet into slippers and led them downstairs. They broke free of her restraining hands once they reached the hall and flung themselves at their father standing in the drawing room doorway. Deborah waited where she was, not sure what to do; the children should have been in their beds, on the other hand they hadn’t seen their father for some weeks and from the look of it, he was delighted to see them again. He scooped them up and swung them round laughing and turned to smile at his wife. They all looked so happy that Deborah felt a pang of loneliness, instantly forgotten when Mrs Burns caught sight of her and said: ‘Bill, here’s Nanny, she’s been marvellous—I don’t know what I would have done without her—and she’s promised to stay a little longer.’
Mr Burns smiled across at her. ‘Hullo Nanny—I’m glad to meet you and very grateful too. Once we’ve got these little horrors in bed again, come down and have a drink.’
Deborah was on the point of making some excuse, but Mrs Burns said: ‘Yes, do—I know you’ve had the hell of a day with the children, but just come for a little while, please.’
It was surprisingly easy to get the twins to bed now that they were satisfied that their father was really home; they were asleep at once and it wasn’t quite time for Dee’s last feed. Deborah tidied her hair, powdered her flushed and rather tired face and went downstairs.
Mr Burns was sitting in an armchair, his wife perched beside him but he got up as Deborah went into the room, offered her sherry and poured it, and then waved her to a chair. ‘I can’t tell you what a relief it was to hear how well you’ve been coping—Gideon sent me a most reassuring cable—it made all the difference, I can tell you—all those miles away and unable to get home to poor Peggy. We thought we might go over to Bath tomorrow—we’ll take the children of course and if you would come too…?’
‘Of course,’ said Deborah in a quiet voice.
‘Good, just a brief visit, you know. I’m very fond of my mother-in-law,’ he smiled at his wife as he spoke, ‘I’m glad and relieved that she’s recovered. She wants to see the children and I want to see her, so if you could take charge of them for half an hour? There’s a nice garden there—Dee can stay in her Moses basket.’
He was quite different from the professor, thought Deborah, listening to him; unassuming and reserved with a nice open face and kind eyes. ‘We’ll be quite all right, Mr Burns,’ she assured him: ‘Dee’s such a good baby and I’ll take something to amuse the twins. Shall we be going in the morning or later in the day?’
‘An early lunch?’ suggested Mr Burns to his wife and she nodded. ‘We can have tea there, and be back in good time for the twins to be put to bed.’
Deborah put down her glass and stood up. ‘It’s time for Dee’s feed. Thank you for my drink, goodnight Mrs Burns, goodnight Mr Burns.’
The twins naturally enough were enchanted at the idea of going to see Granny in Daddy’s car, but they were still more delighted to hear that since lunch was to be early they wouldn’t be going to school. Deborah took them for a walk; protesting loudly, rebellious hands holding on to the pram as she wheeled Dee off for the morning airing. ‘Just for an hour,’ coaxed Deborah. ‘So that your father can get the car ready for this afternoon.’
They travelled in Mr Burns’ estate car, roomy enough to take them all with the twins strapped into their seats and Deborah sitting between them with Dee on her lap. The weather was warm and sunny although the trees were showing the first early signs of autumn, although she was kept much too occupied to look around her.
Mrs Burns’ mother lived in a nice old house a mile or two outside Bath and when they arrived Mrs Burns went in alone to make sure that her mother was feeling up to seeing them, then her husband joined her, leaving Deborah in the garden with the twins and Dee in her carry-cot. Luckily not for long, for they were impatient to see the invalid, and under dire threat not to so much as raise their voices, they were led inside with Deborah, Dee tucked under her arm, bringing up the rear.
Mrs Burns’ mother was an elderly edition of her daughter and although she looked ill, she was still pretty in a faded way, but her eyes were bright and missed nothing. She was kissed carefully by the twins, admired Dee, and then turned her attention to Deborah. Not that she said much, but Deborah had the distinct impression that she was being closely examined, although she couldn’t think why. If she could have stayed behind instead of taking the children back into the garden she would have found out…
‘She’ll do very well,’ said Mrs Beaufort. ‘Have you said anything?’
‘Nothing, Mother—we thought we’d see what you thought, first, after all, you’ll see quite a lot of her for several weeks.’ She added, ‘Bill likes her…’
‘And Gideon,’ said her mother. ‘Which surprised me very much—you know what he’s like and she’s hardly his type. He says she unnerves him—probably all that sandy hair and those eyes. They are absolutely beautiful.’
‘She’s super with the kids.’ Mrs Burns stopped to kiss her parent. ‘Bill will talk to her tomorrow and get things settled. The doctors say another two weeks before you are fit to travel, that gives us time to get organised. Is Eleanor coming too?’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Beaufort was looking tired but interested. ‘But for some reason best known to him, Gideon asks us not to mention that.’
She and her daughter stared at each other for a long moment. ‘You don’t say,’ observed Mrs Burns, and then: ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
Deborah was under the trees at the end of the garden, making daisy chains for the twins while Dee slept. She would have liked a cup of tea and as if in answer to her thought, a stout woman