Living With Adam. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
sighed again, more pronouncedly, and said: ‘Oh, well, I’ll just have some coffee, and I’ll be with you.’
Adam had turned away to examine some papers in his briefcase, but he turned at her words to regard her uncomprehendingly. ‘What do you mean?’
Maria poured more coffee into her cup. ‘I want to come with you this morning—to your surgery, I mean. I want to see where you work, and I might even be able to help you.’
Adam was astounded. ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary, Maria. I have a very adequate receptionist to deal with my affairs. You must entertain yourself as best you can.’
Maria’s cup clattered into its saucer. ‘But I want to come with you, Adam.’
‘Well, you can’t.’ Adam shook his head. ‘And I should change those clothes before you go anywhere, if I were you.’
‘What’s wrong with my clothes?’ Maria got to her feet slowly.
‘If you don’t know then I don’t have the time to tell you,’ retorted Adam, rather cruelly.
Maria clenched her fists. ‘You’re just like my father!’ she exclaimed angrily. She compressed her lips for a moment, and then an unwilling smile lifted their corners. ‘I know you’re only trying to annoy me!’ she said. ‘Maybe you expect me to say I won’t come with you, is that it?’
Adam gave her an exasperated look, and then turned and walked out into the hall, almost bumping into Mrs Lacey as she came to see what Maria wanted to eat. But to her surprise, Maria herself followed Adam into the hall, and lifted the orange anorak from its place in the hall closet.
Adam, who had pulled on a sheepskin car coat over his suit, turned to regard her impatiently. ‘You can’t come, Maria,’ he said firmly, his voice cold. ‘I’m sorry, but my surgery is no place for a—a—girl like you.’ He had been about to say child, but thought better of it.
Maria’s eyes mirrored their hurt, and he studied her for a long moment before saying: ‘I’m sorry,’ again, and turning, he walked to the front door. The door slammed behind him and Maria wrinkled her nose to hide the disappointment she was feeling. Then she tugged off her anorak and threw it back into the closet, not bothering to pick it up when it fell on to the floor, and Mrs Lacey hurried forward and lifted it herself, feeling an unwilling sense of compassion for the girl.
Maria walked moodily back into the dining-room, her hands thrust deep into the hip pockets of her trousers, and wondered with a bleak sense of isolation whether she had done the right thing by coming here.
Then she pushed the thought aside and lifted Adam’s newspaper. Turning it to the first page, she flung herself into his chair and made a brave attempt to read it. Mrs Lacey, coming in a few moments later and encountering her brooding gaze, wondered whether she had been mistaken in thinking she had seen pain in Maria’s amber eyes.
‘What would you like to eat, miss?’ she asked, beginning to clear Adam’s dirty plates on to her tray.
Maria looked up reluctantly. She didn’t feel like talking to anybody right now. ‘Nothing, thank you,’ she replied politely, and Mrs Lacey looked at her doubtfully.
‘Don’t you think you ought to have something, miss?’ she asked. ‘A young girl like you. You must he hungry.’
Maria compressed her lips again. ‘I was,’ she admitted quietly. ‘But not now.’
Mrs Lacey sighed, putting down the tray and folding her arms. ‘Now that’s silly, miss, if you don’t mind me saying so. Saying you don’t want food just because Mr Adam wouldn’t take you with him—’
Maria’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t mention Adam,’ she said, with an attempt at coolness.
Mrs Lacey shook her head. ‘No, of course you didn’t. But that’s what’s wrong, I can tell. You wanted to help, that’s all, but you can’t, so you might as well make the best of a bad job.’
Maria looked at her distantly, and then her mobile face broke into a grudging smile. It was not in her nature to remain moody for long, and it wasn’t Mrs Lacey’s fault after all. ‘All right,’ she agreed, with a sigh. ‘I did want to go. But I couldn’t, and now I don’t feel very hungry.’
‘Well, what about some cereal? Or perhaps a little bacon.’
Maria looked horrified at this. ‘Oh, no,’ she cried. ‘But maybe some toast.’
Mrs Lacey nodded. ‘All right, miss. Some toast, and perhaps a little of my home-made marmalade.’
Maria smiled. ‘That sounds delicious!’
After breakfast, Maria asked the housekeeper whether there was anything she could do around the house. Mrs Lacey looked surprised, and said: ‘Like what, miss?’
Maria frowned. ‘I could make the beds,’ she volunteered, ‘or perhaps you would like me to do the washing up. I can cook, too.’
Mrs Lacey was obviously taken aback. Guests did not usually offer their services around the house, but the idea was not unpleasant. Even so… ‘That’s very kind of you, miss,’ she replied, rather flustered, ‘but it’s not necessary, you know. This isn’t a large house and caring for one man doesn’t take a lot of doing.’
‘But there’s two of us now,’ pointed out Maria, but Mrs Lacey still shook her head.
‘It’s very kind of you, miss, but I don’t think Mr Adam would approve. In any case, you haven’t been out of doors since you arrived yesterday afternoon. How would you like to go down to the shops in the High Street, and fetch me some things I need?’
‘Shopping?’ Maria hesitated. ‘Oh, yes, I should like that.’
‘Good.’ Mrs Lacey was relieved to have found a solution to Maria’s problem, and in the kitchen she made out a list of her requirements. Later, armed with a shopping basket and Mrs Lacey’s purse, Maria made her way, following the housekeeper’s directions, to the High Street.
It was a beautiful spring morning now that the early chill had dissipated, and Maria’s sense of well-being returned. It was natural that Adam should find it difficult to adapt to having someone else living in his house, particularly as that someone was also related to him, if only by marriage. She must not expect to make too many demands on him all at once. A doctor’s life was not like that of a farmer. He had no set hours, and the responsibilities he carried were bound to make him more serious.
In this happy mood she did her tour of the shops, using her innate country sense of shrewdness when it came to deciding which cuts of meat to buy and which vegetables to choose. She insisted on handling the tomatoes before buying them, much to the dealer’s annoyance, but at least she had the satisfaction at the end of knowing she had not been cheated. In her orange anorak and the purple pants she did not look out of place in the High Street where all manner of attire could be seen, but as she turned again into Virginia Grove she observed several slightly raised eyebrows among the tenants who were out and about. Mrs Lacey was amazed at how little Maria had spent on her purchases, half expecting the girl to come back without half the things she had been sent for. Now she made them some coffee and as they sat companionably at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, chatting, Mrs Lacey found out a little about Maria’s background and of her life in Kilcarney.
After a while Maria skilfully changed the subject and said: ‘What time does Adam come home for lunch?’
Mrs Lacey smiled and slipped off her stool, carrying her empty cup to the sink unit. ‘Oh, about one o’clock,’ she replied. ‘But he doesn’t always come home for lunch.’
‘Oh!’ Maria could scarcely hide her disappointment, and Mrs Lacey went on to say that when he wasn’t coming home he usually telephoned before eleven. ‘And has he phoned today?’ Maria couldn’t help asking.
Mrs Lacey shook her head. ‘No, miss. He’ll be home. After all, afternoons are his only free