All Else Confusion. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ all that much.’

      A statement with which Mr Royle couldn’t agree. He dated it unerringly as being five years old and on the dowdy side, bought with an eye to its being useful rather than becoming. But the dark blue set off the hair very well, he conceded that, and the dress, however badly cut, couldn’t disguise her splendid figure. She was a young woman who would look magnificent if she were properly dressed.

      He greeted her with casual politeness and engaged her mother in conversation, while Matt made his way across the drawing-room to ask her how Nancy did. They became engrossed in the donkey’s treatment and exactly what had been done, but presently they were joined by Mrs Avery, and with a hurried promise to come over on the following morning, Matt wandered off to talk to Mary.

      The dinner party was small, the Fothergills being augmented by the doctor and his wife and daughter, and since they had all lived in the village for years, they were on the best of terms. Presently they all went across the gloomy raftered hall to the dining room, an equally gloomy room, its walls oak-panelled and the great table ringed by antique and uncomfortable chairs. Colonel Avery never ceased grumbling about them, but since the idea of replacing family heirlooms with something more modern wasn’t to be entertained, everyone put up with them in silence.

      But even though the room was gloomy, the people in it weren’t: the talk became quite animated as they ate their way through chilled melon, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes and sprouts and rounded off this very English meal with Charlotte Russe. There was Stilton after that, and since Mrs Avery was too old-fashioned to change her ways, the ladies, very animated after the excellent claret the Colonel had given them, left the men round the table and went back to the drawing-room.

      Here Mrs Avery, a mouselike woman whose appearance belied her forceful personality, set about arranging her guests to her satisfaction. The doctor’s wife and Mrs Fothergill were seated side by side on one of the sofas, Mary and the doctor’s daughter were marshalled on to a smaller piece of furniture and Mrs Avery herself engaged Annis in conversation, sitting so that she could see the door when the men came in. For years now she had decided that Annis would make a very good wife for Matt. They had grown up together and liked each other, and Annis would do very nicely as mistress of the Manor House in which the Avery family had lived for a very long time. She lost no time, once she had decided upon this, in throwing them together on every possible occasion. It was a pity that neither Annis nor Matt had any inkling of this, and continued to see each other several times a week without feeling any desire to be more than good friends.

      The men joined them quite soon and Mrs Avery signalled with her eyebrows to Matt that he should join them, only to be frustrated by Jake Royle, who somehow contrived to get there first and stayed inextricably with them until she was forced to circulate amongst her other guests.

      Which left Annis on the sofa, rather apart from the others, and Jake Royle sitting beside her, half turned towards her so that he could watch her face.

      ‘Was the vet able to do anything for Nancy?’ he enquired in such a friendly voice that she found herself replying readily enough. They discussed the donkey at some length, and then, almost imperceptibly, he led the conversation round to her family and eventually to herself. He had discovered quite a lot about her before she realised what was happening and closed her pretty mouth with a suddenness which made him chuckle silently. She shot him a look as fiery as her hair and asked with something of a snap: ‘And when do you return to New Zealand, Mr Royle?’

      ‘I’m called Jake,’ he reminded her gently, ‘and I don’t really know when I shall go there again. I live in England, you know.’

      ‘No, I didn’t. Do you like New Zealand?’

      ‘Very much. Have you travelled at all, Annis?’

      She had to admit that beyond a week in Brittany some years previously, and a long weekend in Brussels with a school friend, she hadn’t.

      ‘You would like to travel?’ he persisted.

      ‘Well, of course. I should think everyone would, some places more than others, of course.’

      ‘And those places?’

      She knitted her strong brows. There was no end to the tiresome man’s questions, and why couldn’t someone come and take him away? ‘Oh, Canada and Norway and Sweden and Malta and the Greek Isles and Madeira.’

      He said lightly: ‘Let’s hope you have the opportunity to visit some or all of them at some time or another.’

      ‘Yes—well, I hope so too. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must have a word with Colonel Avery about…’ She had no idea what; he helped her out with a casual ‘Yes, of course—time passes so quickly when one is enjoying a pleasant talk.’

      She got up and he got up too, and she edged away, relieved to see that Miriam, Doctor Bennett’s daughter, was poised to take her place. From the safety of the other end of the room, she saw the pair of them obviously enjoying each other’s company. The sight quite annoyed her.

      Half-term finished the next day and Annis was alone once more then with her mother and father and old Mrs Wells who did for them twice a week. She had come to the Rectory, year in, year out, for a long time and her work—doing the rough, she called it—had by tacit consent been honed down to jobs like polishing the brass, sitting comfortably at the kitchen table, or peeling the potatoes for lunch. But no one thought of telling her that she might retire if she wanted to. For one thing she didn’t want to; she lived alone in the village and the Rectory supplied an interest in her life; besides, she would have been missed by all the family, who cheerfully cleared up after her, found her specs, gave her cups of tea and took the eyes out of the potatoes when she wasn’t looking. She was devoted to all of them and went regularly to church, besides attending all the jumble sales, where she purchased her wardrobe, dirt cheap, three times a year.

      She sat at the kitchen table now, mending a great rent in the sheet James had put his feet through, while Annis juggled with the washing machine. It was behaving temperamentally this morning, making a terrible din, oozing water from somewhere underneath, and having long bouts of doing nothing at all. Mrs Fothergill, coming into the kitchen to make the coffee, gave it a harassed look. ‘Is it going to break down?’ she shouted to Annis above the din.

      ‘Shouldn’t think so. I’ll give it a rest before I put the next load in.’

      Mrs Fothergill nodded. ‘Yes, dear. Coffee will be ready in five minutes. We’re in the drawing room.’

      They almost never used the drawing room; it was a handsome apartment, so large and lofty that it was impossible to keep it really warm. Annis supposed her mother was turning out the sitting room. She made Mrs Wells the pot of strong tea she always fancied mid-morning, emptied the washing machine and went along to the drawing room.

      She opened the door and went in, and only then realised that there were visitors—Matt, who didn’t really count, Mr Royle and a small, elderly lady, almost completely round as to figure and with a pair of black eyes sparkling in a round face.

      Matt and Jake Royle got up and Matt said cheerfully: ‘Hullo, Annis. You look as though you’re doing a hard day’s work. We’ve brought one of my aunts over—it was Jake’s idea. She arrived quite late yesterday evening and went to bed, too tired for the dinner party. Aunt Dora, this is Annis—a pity you’ve missed the others.’

      Annis put a hand up to her hair, realised that it was in a hopeless mess anyway, and offered the hand instead to Matt’s aunt.

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ