Rags To Riches Collection. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ woke very early, her head full of her meeting with the doctor. It was wonderful that he had come into her life once more—surely for the last time. And since he had gone to so much trouble she would take this job at Eastbourne and stay there for as long as they would have her. It was work she could do, she would have some money, she could go home in the holidays and she would take care never to see Marcus again. That shouldn’t be difficult, for he had never shown a wish to see more of her. She got up, and dressed, then said goodbye to her friends, and promptly at ten o’clock went down to the entrance with her case. She hadn’t been particularly happy at the hospital but all the same she felt regret at leaving it.

      The doctor came to meet her, took her case and put it in the boot, and settled her beside him in the car. He had wished her good morning, taken a look at her face and then decided to say nothing more for the moment. Mintie wasn’t a girl to cry easily, he was sure, but he suspected that there were plenty more tears from where the last outburst had come, and it would only need a wrong word to start them off.

      He drove out of the forecourt into the morning traffic.

      ‘We will go home and have coffee, for Briskett wants to bid you goodbye. You have an appointment to see Mr Gardiner at three o’clock this afternoon. He will be at the Red Lion in Henley. Ask for him at Reception.’

      He didn’t ask her if she had changed her mind, and he had nothing further to say until he stopped in front of his house.

      Briskett had the door open before they reached it, delighted to see her again.

      ‘There’s coffee in the small sitting room,’ said Briskett, ‘and I’ll have your coat, Miss Pomfrey.’

      They sat opposite each other by the fire, drinking Briskett’s delicious coffee and eating his little vanilla biscuits, and the doctor kept up an undemanding conversation: the boys were fine, he had seen them on the previous weekend, they were all going over to Friesland for Christmas. ‘They sent their love—they miss you, Mintie.’

      He didn’t add that he missed her, too. He must go slowly, allow her to find her feet, prove to herself that she could make a success of a job. He had admitted to himself that she had become the one thing that really mattered to him, that he loved her. He had waited a long time to find a woman to love, and now that he had he was willing to wait for her to feel the same way, something which might take time…

      He drove her to Hambledon later, and once more found the house empty save for a delighted Cherub. There was another note, too, and, unlike Briskett, the doctor coolly took it from Araminta’s hand when she had read it.

      The cousin had gone to Kingston to shop and would be back after tea. He put the note back, ignoring her indignant look, and glanced around him. Briskett had given a faithful description of the house: pleasant, old-fashioned solid furniture and lacking a welcome.

      ‘It’s a good thing, really,’ said Araminta. ‘I’ve an awful lot to do, especially if I get this job and they want me as soon as possible.’

      He rightly took this as a strong hint that he should go. He would have liked to have taken her somewhere for a meal but she would have refused. When she thanked him for the lift and his help in getting her another job, he made a noncommittal reply, evincing no wish to see her again, but wishing her a happy future. And in a month or two he would contrive to see her again…

      Araminta, wishing him goodbye and not knowing that, felt as though her heart would break—hearts never did, of course, but it was no longer a meaningless nonsense.

      But there was little time to indulge in unhappiness. In three hours’ time she would have to be at the Red Lion in Henley, and in the meantime there was a lot to do.

      There had been no time to have second thoughts; that evening, washing and ironing, sorting out what clothes she would take with her while she listened to her cousin’s chatter, Araminta wondered if she had been too hasty.

      Mr Gardiner had been no time-waster. He was a man of early middle age, quiet and taciturn, asking her sensible questions and expecting sensible answers. His need for an assistant matron was urgent, with upwards of fifty little boys and Matron run off her feet. He’d read her credentials, then voiced the opinion that they seemed satisfactory.

      ‘In any case,’ he told her, ‘my mother tells me that Dr van der Breugh is a man of integrity and highly respected. He gave you a most satisfactory reference. Now, as to conditions and salary…’

      He dealt with these quite swiftly and asked, ‘Are you prepared to come? As soon as possible?’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Could you manage tomorrow?’

      The sooner she had something to occupy her thoughts the better, reflected Araminta. She agreed to start on the following day. ‘In the late afternoon? Would that do? There are several things I must see to…’

      ‘Of course, we’ll expect you around teatime. Take a taxi from the station and put it down to expenses. I don’t suppose you have a uniform? I’ll get Matron to find something.’

      He had given her tea and she had come back home to find her cousin returned. A good thing, for she’d offered to cook them a meal while Araminta began on her packing. She’d phoned her mother later to tell her that she had left the hospital and was taking up a job as an assistant school matron.

      ‘What a good idea,’ observed her parent comfortably. ‘You liked the convalescent home, didn’t you? A pity you couldn’t have stayed with Dr van der Breugh’s nephews, for it seems to me, my love, that you are cut out to be a homebody. I’m sure you will be very happy at Eastbourne.

      ‘We shall be home very shortly and we must make plans for Christmas. We still have a good deal of research to do and the publishers are anxious for us to have our book ready by the spring, but we shall be home soon, although we may need to make a trip to Cornwall—there have been some interesting discoveries made near Bodmin.’

      Araminta was sorry to leave Cherub once again. It was fortunate that he was a self-sufficient cat, content as long as he was fed and could get in and out of the house. Araminta, on her way to Eastbourne the next day, wondered if it would be possible for her to have him with her at the school. There was a flatlet, Mr Gardiner had told her, and Cherub would be happy in her company. She would wait until she had been there for a time and then see what could be done. It depended very much on the matron she would be working with. Araminta, speculating about her, decided that no one could be worse than Sister Spicer…

      The school was close to the sea front, a large rambling place surrounded by a high brick wall, but the grounds around it were ample; there were tennis courts and a covered swimming pool and a cricket pitch. And the house looked welcoming.

      She was admitted by a friendly girl who took her straight to Mr Gardiner’s office. He got up to shake hands, expressed pleasure at her arrival and suggested that she might like to go straight to Matron.

      ‘I’ll take you up and leave you to get acquainted. The boys will be at supper very shortly, and then they have half an hour’s recreation before bed. Perhaps you could work alongside Matron for a while this evening and get some idea of the work?’

      Matron had a sitting room and a bedroom on the first floor next to the sick bay. She was a youngish woman with a round, cheerful face and welcomed Araminta warmly. Over a pot of tea she expressed her relief at getting help.

      ‘It’s a good job here,’ she observed. ‘The Gardiners are very kind and considerate, but it does need two of us. You like small boys? Mr Gardiner told me СКАЧАТЬ