The Vicar's Daughter. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ you’re sure...’

      ‘Quite sure,’ he told her placidly. ‘I’ll see you within the hour.’

      She watched him go, and the butler closed the door behind him and went away.

      It was all right at first. It was quiet and pleasantly warm and her chair was comfortable; the minutes ticked away and she thought longingly of coffee and sandwiches. At any moment, she told herself, someone would come and lead her to wherever she was to have the refreshments offered to her.

      No one came. Fifteen minutes, half an hour went past, and although from time to time she heard a door open or close no one came into the hall. If she hadn’t promised Professor van Kessel that she would wait for him she would have left the house. Margo, used to the willing hospitality of the vicarage, felt in an alien world. The magnificent long-case clock across the hall struck half past one, almost drowning the sound of the doorbell, and as though waiting for his cue the butler went to answer it.

      Professor van Kessel came into the hall unhurriedly. ‘I’ve not kept you waiting?’ he wanted to know cheerfully. ‘You’ve finished your lunch?’

      Margo stood up, her insides rumbling again. ‘I haven’t had lunch,’ she said with asperity. ‘I have been sitting here...’ She gave the butler a nasty look.

      His poker face became almost human. ‘I am indeed sorry, Miss. We had no orders concerning you. I had assumed that you had left the house.’ He gave the doctor a nervous glance. ‘If the professor would wait, I can bring coffee and sandwiches...’

      Margo, her thoughts diverted from her insides, gave the doctor a thoughtful look. ‘Should I call you Professor?’

      ‘It’s only another name for Doctor.’ He turned to the butler. ‘I’ll give Miss Pearson lunch. I’m sure it was no fault of yours. Explain to your mistress, will you?’

      He whisked Margo out of the house then and into his car. As he drove away he asked, ‘When are you expected home?’

      ‘I was going to get the three-thirty from Paddington.’

      ‘Oh, good. We shall have time for a leisurely meal before we start for home.’

      She said awkwardly, ‘Just coffee and sandwiches would do. It’s just that I had breakfast rather early.’

      ‘So did I. And I haven’t had time for lunch.’ He uttered the fib in a placid voice which reassured her.

      ‘Oh, wel—I dare say you’re hungry.’

      ‘Indeed I am.’ He resolutely forgot the lamb cutlets followed by the substantial apple tart that he had been offered at the hospital. ‘I know a very pleasant little restaurant five minutes from here.’

      ‘I expect you know Lady Mellor?’ asked Margo, making conversation.

      ‘Never heard of her before this morning. Her doctor asked me for a second opinion on her small son. A pampered brat who needed his bottom smacked. He got at the wine decanter and was first drunk and then sick. No one had thought to ask him what he’d had to eat or drink.’ He slowed the car. ‘A waste of my time. There’s a meter—we’re in luck.’

      The restaurant was close by and only half-full. Margo gave him an eloquent glance and sped away to the Ladies’, and when she got back found him at a table by the window, studying the menu. He got up as she reached him, took her jacket and handed it to the waiter, then said, ‘You deserve a drink. Would you like sherry?’

      ‘You can’t have one—you’re driving—so I won’t either. I’d like tonic and lemon, please.’

      He waited as she took a menu from the waiter. ‘We have plenty of time; choose whatever you would like.’

      The menu was mouthwatering and, since there were no prices, probably very expensive. Margo decided on an omelette and salad, thereby endearing herself to the doctor, who chose the same, thankful that when she chose sticky toffee pudding with cream to follow he could settle for biscuits and cheese.

      Presently, as she poured their coffee, he was pleased to see that she had a pretty colour in her cheeks now, and a well-fed look. Shabby treatment, he reflected, to leave her sitting there without so much as a glass of water...

      He asked idly, ‘Do you often run errands for anyone who asks?’

      ‘Well, yes. You see, Father always helps anyone who needs it, and of course that means Mother and I help out too.’

      ‘You would not wish for a different life?’

      ‘I haven’t any training, have I?’ she reminded him.

      ‘I’d love to travel...’ Just for a moment she looked wistful. ‘But life isn’t dull. There’s always something happening, even in a small village like Thinbottom.’

      ‘You don’t hanker for life in London?’

      ‘Goodness me, no. Do you like living here, Professor?’

      ‘Don’t, I beg you, call me Professor; it makes me feel elderly. No, I don’t like living here—my home is in Holland. I only come here from time to time. I stay with an old friend and, though I’m too busy to go out much, I do have other friends scattered around the country with whom I spend my weekends when I’m free.’

      ‘You’re going back to Holland soon?’

      Her heart sank when he said, ‘Oh, yes, in a few weeks—I have to be back there for Christmas.’

      Soon after, they got back into the car, and, encouraged by his questions, she gave him an account of the travellers.

      ‘I went to see them in that house you found for them. The baby’s a darling. They plan to move on but they’ll be all right; they were given clothes and blankets and they didn’t seem to mind that they hadn’t a van. I wish I knew someone...’

      ‘They’ll probably strike lucky. The weather is good, and that should be a great help to them.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we stop for tea, or would you like to get home as quickly as possible?’

      ‘Well, by the time we’re home it will be teatime. If you can spare the time I know Mother would love to give you a cup. You don’t need to stay if you’re going further.’

      He hid a smile. ‘That does sound delightful.’ He began to talk about the country they were passing through, careful to put her at her ease.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THEY reached the vicarage shortly before five o’clock, and Margo led the way in through the open front door to be met by her mother’s voice.

      ‘Is that you, love? You’re early...’ Mrs Pearson’s head appeared round the kitchen door. ‘Dr van Kessel, how nice to see you. You’ll stay for tea? It’s in the dining room—I thought that Margo might be hungry...’

      ‘You’ll stay?’ asked Margo. ‘That is, if you’d like to.’

      ‘Indeed I would. Thank you, Mrs Peaison—if you don’t mind having an uninvited guest. I happened to meet СКАЧАТЬ