An Old Fashioned Girl. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ right; the snow drifted down, occasionally blown into a flurry by a gust of east wind, cold enough to take her breath. It was pleasant to enter the warm house and sniff the fragrance of bacon, still lingering in the kitchen after Miss Murch had cooked Mr van der Beek’s breakfast.

      ‘You’d better fetch the vegetables while you’ve got your outdoor things on,’ said Miss Murch, adding grudgingly that it wasn’t a nice morning.

      Old Ned in mittens and an overcoat was in the greenhouse. ‘No good me staying ‘ere,’ he told Patience. ‘I’ve picked some sprouts; you’d better take ‘em with you. What’s it to be today?’

      ‘Onions and carrots, but I’ll take the sprouts and a cabbage, in case I can’t get down tomorrow.’ She added hopefully, ‘Perhaps the snow won’t last.’

      To which remark her companion gave a derisive cackle of laughter.

      It snowed gently all day but not alarmingly so, Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch came and went, and the house, polished and hoovered and delightfully warm, made nonsense of the chilly weather outside. Patience went home at four o’clock and, being country born and bred, sniffed the air with a knowledgeable little nose—there was more snow on the way. She called at Mr Crouch’s shop and bought braising steak and plenty of bacon; a really large casserole would last them two days and only need warming up …

      As she went out of the shop the Bentley whispered past with Mr van der Beek at the wheel—so he’d been away all day. She frowned, thinking of the care with which she and Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch had moved silently around the house so that he shouldn’t be disturbed—and all for nothing. She stood looking after the car and Mr van der Beek watched her in his side-mirror. She was wearing the old Burberry again and a woolly cap in some useful colour pulled down over her hair. Really, he thought irritably, the girl had no dress sense.

      It was still snowing when she left the little house in the morning and the sky was ominously dark. She had left a substantial casserole cooked and ready, peeled potatoes for two days, and left everything as ready as possible for her aunts just in case she wouldn’t be able to get home at midday. Mrs Dodge would go in, of course, and almost everyone in the village knew where she was; all the same she felt a faint unease, for the wind was getting strong, blowing the snow into spirals going in every direction.

      The worsening weather seemed to have no effect upon the occupants of the house. Patience, unaware that Mr van der Beek had been out early with Basil, thought that probably he had no idea how wintry it could be in Norfolk at that time of the year, and, as for Miss Murch, she had no interest in the outside world; she was already in the kitchen making marmalade.

      The weather became steadily worse as the morning wore on and Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch left earlier than usual, declaring that the school would surely close early because of the weather and the children would be sent home. Patience, taking a look out of the window, decided not to try and struggle home and back again—in less than an hour it wouldn’t be possible and, as if to underline her decision, the wind increased with a quite frightening suddenness.

      By mid-afternoon it was dark and the wind was howling around the house. Patience, bidden by Miss Murch to draw the curtains, could see nothing but a curtain of snowflakes outside and when the lights began to flicker and the wind increased she went round the house, setting candlesticks and matches at strategic points.

      Miss Murch, coming upon her setting an old-fashioned candelabrum on the hall table, remarked tartly that anyone would think that she had done it all before, to which Patience made no reply.

      Wrapped in the Burberry and the woolly cap, she knew before she had reached the end of the drive that getting back to the village would be impossible. There was a hollow in the lane a hundred yards from the house and she could see that the drifts were already head-high. Almost blown off her feet, she was half blinded by the snow and so she went back to the house.

      Miss Murch eyed her sopping figure. ‘You’ll have to stay the night,’ she pronounced. ‘You can telephone to your home.’

      ‘We aren’t on the phone, but it’s all right, my aunts won’t worry; they would know that once the snow started drifting there wouldn’t be a way back.’

      ‘This Godforsaken place,’ declared Miss Murch crossly. ‘Get those wet things off; since you’re here you can help me with Mr van der Beek’s dinner.’

      The kitchen was warm and smelled deliciously of something roasting in the Aga. ‘You had better have the room opposite mine,’ said Miss Murch. ‘You can have one of my nightgowns and then we can make up the bed presently. We’ll have our supper once Mr van der Beek has had his dinner.’

      The electricity wavered for another half-hour and then went out. Patience went around lighting candles and the oil-lamps her aunts had always kept handy. The dining-room looked quite cosy when she had set candles on the table, but she didn’t linger; she had heard the subdued roar from Mr van der Beek when the power was cut, and he might not be in the best of tempers. She went to the lamp-room behind the kitchen and found another oil-lamp; the moment he went into the dining-room she would nip into the study and light it.

      Miss Murch took the dinner in, tapping discreetly on the study door to let him know that it was served. Patience heard his voice, coldly annoyed, as she slid out of the kitchen and into the study. There was a splendid fire burning; by its light she lit the lamp and set it on his desk.

      She itched to tidy the piles of papers strewn around. How, she wondered, did he ever find anything in all that muddle?

      She had her supper with Miss Murch later that evening, listening politely to that lady’s accounts of the convenience and comfort of Mr van der Beek’s house in London. ‘He has a house in Holland as well,’ she told Patience. ‘He visits there from time to time. He is, as you doubtless know, very well thought of throughout the medical profession.’

      Patience murmured politely, and helped with the washing-up while Miss Murch sang the praises of the dish-washing machine at the London house, and retired to her room. It was close to Miss Murch’s at the back of the house and the wind howled against the window, its glass peppered with snowflakes. Patience pulled the curtains, had a very hot bath in the rather antiquated bathroom and jumped into bed. She had experienced weather like this several times and it was unlikely to disturb her sleep. She set the alarm clock Miss Murch had thoughtfully given her for seven o’clock and went to sleep.

      It was the dead of night when she woke and she knew at once what it was that had awakened her. One of the shutters in the unused scullery beyond the kitchen had broken loose and was banging against the wall. Then she lay and listened to it for a few minutes and decided to go down and see if she could close it. She lighted her candle and crept along the passage, pausing at Miss Murch’s door. Judging by the snores coming from her room, Miss Murch hadn’t been bothered by the noise. Patience remembered uneasily that Mr van der Beek’s bedroom, at the other side of the house, while not above the kitchen wing, was on the same side. She pattered silently on bare feet down the stairs, across the hall and through the baize door to the kitchen.

      Mr van der Beek’s sleep, untroubled by the violence of the wind, was disturbed by the regular banging of the shutter, the kind of noise which would prevent even the most placid person from dozing off. He got into his dressing-gown and slippers by the light of his torch and went to the head of the stairs, just in time to see the faint glow of Patience’s candle dwindle from the hall. Following it quietly, he was in time to see Patience, shrouded in one of Miss Murch’s winceyette nighties, cross the kitchen and open the door leading to the various rooms beyond … She paused on her way to stoop and pat Basil curled up before the Aga. Mr van der Beek, standing in the kitchen doorway, watched her, the СКАЧАТЬ