Year's Happy Ending. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘I thought the species was extinct.’ And when she looked nonplussed, ‘Nannies,’ he explained kindly, ‘that’s what you are, isn’t it? I thought you worthy aproned ladies had been swallowed whole by the au pair girls.’

      Not only probably a thief thought Deborah, a trifle wildly, but also mentally unstable. ‘Be good enough to go away,’ she said in the firm no-nonsense voice she had been taught to use at the training college.

      He leaned his elegantly clad person against the door frame and said equably: ‘I haven’t had a nanny for a long time; I never obeyed her anyway. I’m coming in.’

      ‘You are not!’ The two little terrors and baby Deirdre suddenly became very precious; he didn’t know they were in the house, of course, but once inside he might go anywhere.

      He changed his tactics. ‘This is Peggy Burns’ house?’

      She nodded.

      ‘Good, so I’ll come in…’

      ‘I don’t know who you are,’ she protested.

      ‘I don’t happen to have my birth certificate with me, would a passport do?’ He was amused still but impatient now. ‘You’re alone in the house?’

      She didn’t answer and he tried again. ‘Is Mrs Burns at home?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Chatty little thing, aren’t you? Where is she?’

      Deborah was standing squarely in the doorway her small, rather plump person by no means filling it. ‘At her mother’s house.’

      She watched his face change to become serious. ‘Is she ill?’

      ‘Her mother? Yes. Mrs Burns went yesterday—no the day before that. Now will you please go away?’

      For answer she felt two large hands clasp her waist and she was lifted gently aside as he went past her and into the sitting room, where he picked up the phone. She closed the door and went after him, watching while he dialled a number, staring at the wall in front of him. He was a good looking man, in his mid-thirties perhaps. She wondered who he was; if he was an intruder she couldn’t do much about it now, but he looked different suddenly, serious and worried, his voice was different too, no longer casual and so amused. He got the number and asked for Mrs Burns and then said: ‘Peggy? what’s wrong? I got back a couple of days early and came to see you. There’s a small gorgon here, defending your children with her life’s blood…’

      He stood listening while Peggy talked. ‘I’m coming over right away. No I didn’t get your cable—I’d already left. I’ll be with you in a couple of hours, maybe a good deal less.’

      He listened again and turned to look at Deborah. ‘Coping very well, I should have said; starched backbone and a mouth like a rat trap. I’d hate to be in her bad books.’ And then ‘Hang on love, I’ll be with you in no time at all.’

      He put the phone down. ‘Any chance of a cup of coffee and a sandwich?’ He smiled suddenly and she almost forgave him for calling her a gorgon, then she remembered the rat trap. ‘Certainly Mr…’ She gave him a steely look and he smiled again. ‘Peggy’s brother, Gideon Beaufort. And you?’

      ‘Nanny,’ said Deborah coldly and went away to the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee and cut sandwiches, by now in a very nasty temper, not improved by his appearance through the door and the manner in which he wolfed the sandwiches as fast as she could cut them. She banged a mug and the coffee pot down in front of him, put milk and sugar within reach and said frostily: ‘Excuse me, I’m going upstairs to the children.’

      She crept into the night nursery and found them asleep, their small flushed faces looking angelic. She tucked in blankets, went to close one of the windows a little and let out a soundless squeak as a large hand came down on her shoulder. ‘Nice, aren’t they?’ whispered their uncle. ‘Little pests when they are awake of course.’

      Deborah had got her breath back. ‘I might have screamed,’ she hissed almost soundlessly, ‘frightening me like that, you should know better…’ She glared up at him. ‘I thought you were in a hurry to see your mother?’

      He was serious again. ‘I am, but I missed lunch and tea and jet lag was catching up on me. I’m going now. You’re all right on your own?’

      ‘Mary will be back later, thank you. Besides I have a definitely starched backbone and a mouth like a rat trap, haven’t I? That should put the most hardened criminal off.’

      ‘Did I say that? Next time we meet I’ll apologise handsomely.’

      They were in the hall, he gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder and opened the door. He went without another word, not even goodbye. She heard a car start up outside but she didn’t go to a window to see it. She never wanted to see the wretch again. Rude, arrogant, bent on scaring the hair off her head. She went to the dining room and gave herself a glass of sherry and then went round the house, locking the doors and shutting the windows. If anyone else rang the bell she had no intention of answering it. She got her supper, sitting over it reading a novel from the well-stocked bookshelves, and then fed Deirdre and settled her for the night. The twins were out cold, humped untidily in their beds. She tucked them in and dropped a kiss on their rosy cheeks and then went downstairs again to wait for Mary; somehow she didn’t fancy going to bed until that lady was back.

      Mary came home just after eleven o’clock. It had been a marvellous wedding, she told Deborah, the bride had looked beautiful and so had the bridesmaids; she didn’t mention the bridegroom—a necessary but unnoticed cog in the matrimonial wheel. And lovely food she continued, accepting the coffee which Deborah thoughtfully put before her. The drink must have been lovely too; Mary was going to have a nasty head in the morning. It hardly seemed the time to tell her about Mr Beaufort, but Mary, revived by the hot drink, wanted to know what sort of a day she had had, and Deborah, skimming lightly over the gorgon and rat trap bits, told her.

      ‘Such a nice gentleman,’ observed Mary, still a bit muzzy, ‘I’ve known him for a long time now, always so polite and so good with the children.’

      She looked at Deborah and smiled and Deborah smiled back; she would hardly have described Mr Beaufort’s manners as polite although she was fair enough to hold back her judgment on his avuncular affability. She gave Mary another cup of coffee and then urged her to her bed. However much they might want to sleep late in the morning, there would be no chance; the twins would see to that, and Deirdre, although a placid baby, was unlikely to forego her morning feed.

      The twins, bursting with energy, made sure that Deborah was up early. There was no sign of Mary as Deborah made herself a cup of tea and debated whether to take one to the housekeeper, but decided to wait for another hour and feed Deirdre while the twins got themselves dressed. She thanked heaven for Deirdre’s placid disposition as she washed unwilling faces and squeezed toothpaste out on to brushes; the baby was already asleep again which would give her time to give the twins their breakfast, and with any luck, allow her to bolt a slice of toast herself. By some miracle they were ready when Aunty Doris arrived; Deborah handed them over clean, well fed and with shining faces and nipped indoors again to take a cup of tea to Mary.

      ‘I have a headache,’ said Mary predictably.

      ‘I brought you a couple of aspirin, if you take them now and lie still for ten minutes or so, it’ll go. Do you fancy breakfast? I’m going to make some toast presently, after I’ve СКАЧАТЬ