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       CHAPTER THREE

      ARAMINTA went to bed that night thankful that the day had gone so well. The children had returned for their tea and afterwards had helped her wash up, albeit grudgingly. They were still unfriendly but at least they did what she asked them to do with only a modicum of grumbling. The professor had telephoned as he had promised, a brief conversation undertaken against a background of voices—women’s voices as well as men’s. Probably he was relaxing with his friends; she pictured him in his lovely house, entertaining them. A mistake, of course. He was in Theatre Sister’s office, drinking coffee after operating…

      At breakfast the next morning Jimmy said reluctantly, ‘Uncle Jason said we were to take you to church with us.’

      ‘Why, thank you, Jimmy, I shall be glad to go. The morning service?’

      ‘Yes—who’s going to cook our dinner?’

      ‘I shall. It can cook in the oven while we are away. What do you do with Mutt?’

      ‘Shut him in the house; he doesn’t mind as long as Tibs is there too.’

      So they went to church, and when they got back the steak and kidney pie she had made from the contents of the freezer the night before was nicely cooked. She left it warm in the oven while the potatoes and the greens cooked. They had brought a carton of ice-cream back with them on the previous day; she scooped it out into three dishes, embellished it with some chocolate sauce she had found, and put it back in the freezer. Everything was ready by the time the children had fed Mutt and Tibs.

      They both ate everything she put before them, although they didn’t say if they liked it, and once they had finished they told her that they were going over to a friend’s house. ‘We’ll probably stay for tea,’ said Gloria airily.

      ‘Why not? But please tell me where you are going, in case I should want you rather urgently.’ And at their blank stares she added gently, ‘Your mother might telephone, or your uncle, and do give me a ring if you’re staying for tea, will you? Do you want to take Mutt?’

      ‘Of course, and I wish you wouldn’t make a fuss,’ said Jimmy rudely.

      ‘Well, of course I could wash my hands of the pair of you,’ observed Araminta cheerfully, ‘but your uncle asked me to be here until someone gets back and I said that I would. We’ll all have to make the best of it, won’t we?’ She began to gather up the plates. ‘Write it on the pad over there, will you, and please put the phone number. Tea at half-past four, if you decide to come home.’

      She was prepared for them to ignore her request, and it was an agreeable surprise when Gloria phoned to say that they were staying for tea and would be home in time for supper. It gave her a chance to sit down for a bit with a pot of tea and a plate of scones while she jotted down menus for the week ahead.

      It was while she was getting the supper that she realised that there was a problem she hadn’t thought of—Mrs Gault had driven the children to their schools each day and either she or Patty had fetched them back. There was a car in the garage but that wouldn’t be of much use since she couldn’t drive. There would be a school bus, of course, but probably that served the comprehensive school and the other state schools in Salisbury. Gloria was at a private girls’ school a few miles from Tisbury, and Jimmy at a minor public school lying in the other direction. Not far in a car, but they could be at the North Pole if there was no transport. She sat and wrestled with the problem for some time, and reluctantly decided to wait until the children came back to see if between them they could think of a way out of their dilemma.

      Hire a car? she wondered. But would Professor Lister agree to that? Perhaps she could phone him and ask his advice.

      She had no need to do so, for he phoned within the next half-hour.

      Her, ‘Hello,’ was breathless with relief.

      He said at once, ‘Problems? You sound quietly desperate.’

      ‘I am.’ She explained with commendable brevity.

      ‘I should have thought of that. Leave it with me. My sister has several friends in the village. I believe the doctor’s sons go to Jimmy’s school—he can give him a lift and drop Gloria off on his way. I’m sure that he will help. I’ll ring you back, so don’t worry.’ He rang off with a quick goodbye and she went back to her cooking. It was all very well to tell her not to worry, but she wouldn’t feel easy until he phoned again.

      Which he did, shortly before the children came home. ‘Mrs Sloane—Dr Sloane’s wife—will collect Jimmy and Gloria at eight o’clock and bring them back after school.’

      Araminta thanked him. ‘I’m sorry I had to bother you.’

      He said coolly, ‘It was merely a question of picking up the telephone, Miss Smith.’ His goodbye sounded like an afterthought.

      As they sat down to supper presently, Jimmy said, ‘We shan’t be able to go to school—Mother always took us in the car—or Patty. I don’t suppose you can drive a car.’

      ‘No, I can’t. Mrs Sloane is calling for you both each day and will give you a lift back in the afternoon. Your uncle has arranged it.’ She smiled at him. ‘Eight o’clock at the gate, so we’d better have everything ready before you go to bed. Do you take anything with you? Lunch or a snack?’

      Gloria said prissily, ‘We don’t go to state schools, Araminta.’

      A remark Araminta let pass. ‘What about Mutt and Tibs? Will you let me know if they have to be fed and when—and does Mutt go for a walk during the day?’

      ‘If you take him on his lead, and he has a biscuit at lunchtime.’

      ‘Tibs has a meal then too,’ said Gloria. ‘Of course, you don’t belong here so she might run away—then it’ll be your fault.’

      Araminta reminded herself silently that this was a job and she was being paid for it. She said equably, ‘Oh, I like cats, but if you don’t like to leave her in my care perhaps we could find a good cattery where she would be safe.’

      Jimmy frowned at his sister. ‘Tibs will be OK—you’re being a bit silly.’

      ‘And rude,’ added Araminta mildly.

      They weren’t an easy pair to handle; they loitered over their breakfast, had a last-minute hunt for school-books, and their rooms, when she went upstairs to make the beds, were in a state of chaos. ‘Patty must be an angel,’ observed Araminta to Tibs, who was comfortably snoozing on Gloria’s bed. At least she had the house to herself while she vacuumed and dusted, hung the washing on the line at the bottom of the garden and gave the kitchen a good clean. Jimmy had said something about a Mrs Pretty, who came twice a week, but perhaps Mrs Gault had told her not to come while she was away. Araminta, armed with a shopping-basket and the household purse and with Mutt on his lead, took herself off to the village to buy lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes. The children wanted baked beans for their supper; she intended to add bubble-and-squeak and a small salad. As for their demands for Coca-Cola, she had different ideas. Without conceit she knew that her home-made lemonade was perfection itself. She added lemons to her basket at the village stores and replied suitably to the proprietor’s questions. Mr Moody was stout and bald and good-natured, and he liked a chat.