The Convenient Wife. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ and phoned her grandmother’s doctor, and then went back and waited quietly for him to come, sitting very still, her granny’s hand in hers.

      It was the end of the month before the professor returned to St Jude’s, and, after discussing the operation he intended doing on the following day, he got into his car and drove himself to his house. He was going through Hampstead when he saw Percy Lane’s narrow opening, and on an impulse he turned the car into it. He wasn’t sure why he was going—Venetia probably wouldn’t be there. He was being foolish, and he was annoyed at that.

      There was a light shining between the drawn curtains and the front door was open. He got out of the car and pushed the door wider, and noticed then that there was a house agent’s board fastened on to the wall beside it. He said, ‘Venetia, I’m coming in,’ and pushed the sitting-room door open. She was sitting at the little round table by the window, her hands in her lap, and the face she turned to him was so white and weary that he said quickly, ‘What’s the matter? Are you ill?’ His dark eyes swept round the little room; it was scrupulously tidy, and also very cold. ‘Your grandmother?’ he asked.

      Venetia supposed that she should have felt surprise at seeing him, but she didn’t. She said in her quiet way, ‘She died rather suddenly, two weeks ago.’

      ‘My poor girl.’ He undid his coat, tossed his gloves on to the table and sat down opposite her. ‘The house is up for sale. Why are you sitting here in the cold alone?’

      She said steadily, ‘Well, you see, this house doesn’t belong to Granny now—there was some arrangement she made a long time ago—she sold it to some kind of company, and they let her have the money for it then so that she had an income.’ She added seriously, ‘The rates are rather high, you know, and there wasn’t any other money, only her pension. That’s why I’m here—someone’s coming with some papers for me to sign…’

      ‘Have you no solicitor?’

      ‘Oh, yes, but you see it wasn’t convenient for him to come here in the evening, and he said it was all right for me to sign them.’ She went on in her sensible way, ‘The furniture is mine.’

      ‘You have family?’

      ‘No. At least, only a cousin of my father, whom I’ve never met. He and my father didn’t like each other, and I don’t suppose he would want to hear from me.’

      He got up and shut the door. ‘When is this man coming?’

      She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Now, if he’s punctual. Can I get you a cup of tea? I’m so sorry I didn’t ask you…’

      Someone knocked on the door and he got up. ‘I’ll answer that. Are you having days off?’ And when she nodded he added, ‘And sleeping here?’

      ‘They said I could stay until the end of the month. There are things to pack up.’

      He nodded and went to the front door, and presently he ushered in a businesslike-looking man with a briefcase. ‘Go ahead,’ he invited him. ‘I’m merely here in an advisory capacity.’

      A remark which made Venetia blink with surprise. She still wasn’t thinking straight, but she was conscious of relief that the professor should have appeared on her doorstep just when she knew she needed someone. She wished the man good evening, and set herself to read the papers he offered her. Then she passed them over to the professor, who read them, too. They were quite in order, and it was no good pointing out that if the house had been Venetia’s on her grandmother’s death she would have been able to sell it for three times the amount her grandmother had received for it.

      Venetia sighed, offered tea and was refused, and watched the professor see the man to the door. When he came back into the room she got up.

      ‘Thank you very much, Professor,’ she said politely. ‘It was very kind of you to stay. Now I have only to pack up and get somewhere to store the furniture.’ She added, unconsciously wistful, ‘Would you like a cup of tea before you go?’

      ‘No. Get whatever you need for the night. You’re coming back with me.’

      Her white face flushed faintly. ‘Indeed, I am not, Professor. It is very kind of you to suggest it—’

      ‘I’m not being kind, I’m being sensible. You can’t stay alone. My housekeeper will look after you, and you can return in the morning and do whatever you have to do.’

      He sounded reassuringly disinterested.

      ‘But won’t it interfere with your evening?’

      ‘Why should it? I’m going out to dinner, and shall not be back until late, and I’m operating in the morning. I suggest that you spend your two nights at my house and come and go as you please.’ He turned a frowning look upon her. ‘I’m already a little late.’

      Put like that, there wasn’t much that she could do about it and, indeed, she hadn’t quite regained her usual independent spirit. She pushed a few things into her overnight bag, locked up and put on her coat, to be bustled out and into the Bentley, greatly to the interest of the neighbours.

      It was a dark, misty evening and later there would be a frost. Venetia was grateful for the warmth of the big car, and at the same time realised that she was hungry. She hadn’t waited for tea at the hospital, and her midday dinner had been gobbled because she had been delayed on the ward by old Mr Thirsk, who was recovering from a stomach operation and had mislaid his glasses. It had taken her a few minutes to find them among the bedclothes, and by then his neighbour was demanding that his water jug be filled. Somehow her hunger was the last straw; she had just parted with what had been her home for some years, and she had very little idea what to do next. Go on nursing, of course, but there was the question of the furniture, and the solicitor had mentioned several outstanding bills. To her horrified shame her eyes filled with tears. They dripped down her cheeks, getting worse every moment. She put out her tongue and did her best to catch them, and sniffed discreetly, but she was quite unable to stop. It was a good thing that her companion was looking ahead of him. She turned her head away and gazed unseeingly out of the window.

      The professor had turned into a wide road skirting the Heath, with houses standing well back, surrounded by large gardens, overlooking the fields and trees. He turned into an open gateway and stopped before the lighted porch of the house at the very end of the road, switched off the engine and asked quietly, ‘Why are you crying, Venetia?’ At the same time he offered her a handkerchief.

      She mopped her eyes, blew her small nose defiantly, and said in a sodden voice, ‘You’re so kind.’ She looked at him over the hanky. ‘I’m very sorry—Mother always said that nothing annoyed a man more than women weeping.’ She gave a gulp and scrubbed at her face. ‘It’s just that it’s one thing on top of another,’ she mumbled.

      He put out an arm and drew her close so that her head was on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the comfort of it started her weeping once more. He let her cry for several minutes and then said, ‘We’ll sort things out tomorrow. I’ll be home after lunch for a couple of hours. I think it will be best if you stay here until I get back, then we can talk about it. It will be easier with two.’

      She sniffed into his coat. ‘I’m not usually so silly, but it was all a bit sudden.’

      ‘And you had no one to turn to,’ he said softly. He disentangled her from his shoulder and undid her seat-belt, then got out to open her door. ‘Mrs Todd will look after you and give СКАЧАТЬ