Midsummer Star. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ offered, and whisked away, down the stairs, for some reason feeling peevish.

      She later took tea, tiny sandwiches and the fruit cake Angela had just baked, upstairs and arranged the tray on a table near the window before going to find her mother and father in the study. They looked up as she went in and her mother said: ‘I heard a car, darling—but we can’t take anyone, I suppose?’

      ‘It’s the nephew, Oliver Seymour. He wants to spend the night, I’ll get the small room across the landing ready for him. I’d better go to the kitchen and tell Angela there’ll be one more for dinner this evening.’

      Mrs Baylis’s eyes brightened. ‘Really, darling, one wouldn’t want to be unkind, but we’re making money, aren’t we?’

      ‘On paper, yes. I don’t suppose Mrs Seymour will think of the bill at the moment.’

      ‘No, of course not, but Nicky might. Are we getting low in ready cash?’

      ‘We’re OK for a bit, darling. Would you make one of your salads for dinner this evening? I’ll get a couple of lettuces and some radishes, and there’ll be a few spring onions…I’ll get some apples from the loft, too.’

      The Colonel looked up from his book. ‘What are we eating tonight?’

      ‘Lamb chops, and I’ll make a syllabub.’

      ‘You look very untidy,’ observed her father, but she didn’t have to answer him, for he was once more deep in his book.

      Her mother cast an eye over her. ‘Yes, love, you do. I’ll see about tea and you go and change.’ She added: ‘Is he nice?’

      ‘OK, but I’ll get the radishes first. I’ve no idea, I hardly spoke to him.’

      Celine went out of the side door into the kitchen garden, her trug on her arm, and filled it with things for the salad; she was grubbing up the last of the radishes when slow firm feet trod the path behind her.

      ‘Very soothing,’ declared the deep lazy voice, ‘gently pottering in the garden—good for the nerves too. Why isn’t Nick helping you?’

      Celine straightened her back. ‘I didn’t ask him to,’ she said politely.

      ‘Did he need, to be asked?’ His voice held a friendly mockery that annoyed here.

      ‘He is on holiday,’ she pointed out sharply.

      He didn’t answer that but went on placidly: ‘You must have been put to a great deal of trouble with my uncle ill in the house, as well as losing—er—custom. I’m sure my aunt hasn’t remembered to pay the bill—will you let me have it and we’ll settle up?’

      Celine arranged the radishes in a neat row, not looking at him. ‘You’re leaving—all of you? I didn’t think Mr Seymour…’

      ‘Don’t be silly,’ he sounded avuncular, ‘of course we aren’t leaving, but we’re preventing you from having a house full, and the least we can do is pay our way.’ He took a radish from the trug and ate it. ‘Do you do the accounts as well?’

      ‘No, my father sees to that.’ She started back towards the house. ‘I’ve one or two jobs to do…’

      He let her go without protest. ‘Of course. Do you mind if I look round the garden until Dr Grady gets here?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      Celine had to admit, as she helped Angela in the kitchen and then went to lay the table, that he was considerate and kind. But Nick didn’t like him; she wondered why. And where was Nicky anyway? They had hardly seen each other all day. As if in answer to her thought he came into the dining-room and threw an arm round her shoulders. ‘Beautiful girl, isn’t it about time you spared a thought for me? I might have known that once Oliver got here he’d spoil everything.’

      She set the knives and forks just so, very conscious of his arm. ‘I’ve been around,’ she said, a shade breathless, ‘and your cousin hasn’t spoilt anything. Why should he? Your mother was very glad to see him—because he’s a doctor, I expect.’

      She didn’t see Nick’s quick frown. ‘Oh, I daresay. Hey, drop that lot of plates and come into the garden for a few minutes.’

      She laughed, feeling suddenly happy. ‘I can’t—look, dinner’s in an hour, and I’ve heaps to do and I’ll have to go and change.’

      ‘Never mind that.’ Nicky took the plates from her, then tucked an arm through hers and walked her through the French window out into the garden.

      ‘It’s heavenly now.’ He smiled down at her, holding her close. ‘I had no idea when I came on holiday that I was going to meet the only girl in the world.’

      Celine didn’t answer him, and he didn’t seem to expect it, but strolled round the side of the house towards the high wall of the kitchen garden, still warm from the afternoon’s sun. They were well away from the house when he stopped and put his arms round her. ‘You’re everything a man wants,’ he told her. ‘You and I are going to be very happy.’

      Celine stirred in his arms. She felt shy and excited, but over and above these she felt as though she were being rushed along too fast. Nicky was going to kiss her and she wasn’t quite sure that she wanted him to, not just yet. All the same, she felt a keen exasperation when the old wooden door into the kitchen garden creaked open and Oliver strolled through, not twenty yards away.

      He closed the door carefully behind him and beamed at them. ‘Hullo there, enjoying a little peace and quiet together?’ and instead of going off to the house, he strolled towards them. Without quite knowing how it had happened, Celine found his vast person between them, a hand on their shoulders, propelling them gently forward while he carried on a gentle conversation. She answered mechanically, but Nicky didn’t say a word—not then, at any rate, but when she left them in the hall, she heard him break into furious speech before she had closed the kitchen door.

      Nurse Stevens came back presently, was served her dinner and went away to the sickroom, and Celine cleared away, put the finishing touches to the tables and went back to the kitchen. It wasn’t quite time for dinner and everything was ready. She slid upstairs, showered, changed into a little Italian dress she had bought the previous summer, did her hair and face with the speed of light and was downstairs again with five minutes to spare. She could hear Mrs Seymour, Nick and his cousin in the smaller sitting-room; her mother and father were there too and there was no reason why she shouldn’t join them. Instead she went to the kitchen again, picked up the tray with the avocado pears with shrimp sauce and took them along to the dining-room, where she met Barney, dealing with the wine. In the twilight, just with candles glowing, the shabby room looked rather lovely, and Barney, very neat in his black alpaca jacket, certainly added tone to the place. Celine wondered if they were charging enough for dinner as she crossed the hall and banged the gong.

      There was no getting away from the fact that Oliver was now very much in charge of the party. Nick hadn’t bothered over-much about his mother’s lack of appetite, but his cousin, with a placid firmness which would have been hard to resist, made sure that she ate at least something of the meal. And he saw that her glass was kept filled too. Mrs Seymour had brightened visibly by the end of the meal, although it was only too apparent that Nick was sulking.

      The poor boy, thought Celine, handing the salad from СКАЧАТЬ