At Odds With Love. Бетти НилсЧитать онлайн книгу.
of too. I must try and find homes for them, although Basil might take them over.’
‘’E might, and then again ’e might not. You can ask ’im when ’e comes again.’
Jane was kept busy for the next few days; there were letters to write and answer, friends calling, small household bills to be paid and their own modest needs to be dealt with. She kept a careful account of the money she spent and wondered what she was to do once the housekeeping purse was empty. She had a little money of her own but she hadn’t earned any for the last few months and it might be a month or more before she would get a pay packet. While she pondered her future she did her best to keep her sorrow at bay. She would go as soon as possible, she reflected; there were plenty of large provincial hospitals and she knew that she would get an excellent reference from the London hospital she had left when she’d come to look after her grandmother. She knew that Basil didn’t like her over-much but it was unlikely that he would want to come and live in the house immediately. She was never quite sure what he did in the city; if it was a high-powered job then he might commute at weekends as so many of her grandmother’s neighbours did and the will had stipulated that he should give her a home as long as she needed one and financial help too. The latter she had no intention of accepting if it were offered; she was quite capable of supporting herself, but it would be nice if he allowed her to stay sometimes …
She and Bessy cleaned and polished the house and tidied the flowerbeds, already touched with the first autumn frosts, and waited for Basil to return.
He came at the end of a week, and not alone this time. Jane, watching from the drawing-room window where she had been arranging a bowl of chrysanthemums on the rent table, saw him help a girl out of the car; a small slim creature with a cloud of dark hair and dressed unsuitably for the country, although the black and white striped suit she was wearing was the last word in fashion. Even at that distance Jane felt a surge of dislike. I am becoming a spiteful old maid, she reflected as she went to open the door.
‘Hello,’ said Basil. ‘This is Myra, my fiancée. Darling, this is Jane, my cousin, remember?’
Myra wasn’t a girl, she was a woman, older than Jane, exquisitely turned out and very sure of herself. She said, ‘Oh, hello, Jane, Basil’s brought me to see the house. I dare say it needs a good deal of refurbishing—old, isn’t it?’
‘Two hundred years or so,’ said Jane drily. ‘Do come in.’
Basil threw her a dagger glance which she ignored; it was still her home until he asked her to leave. ‘I’m sure you would like coffee. I’ll make some—there’s a fire in the drawing-room. We light it once or twice a week to keep the room aired.’
‘We’ll start looking round,’ said Basil, ‘we haven’t got all day. Let us know when the coffee is ready.’
He swept Myra out of the room and across the hall into the dining-room and Jane, speechless at his rudeness, flounced along to the kitchen where she vented her ill humour on the cups and saucers.
‘What’s bitten you?’ asked Bessy, coming in with a pile of washing. ‘Smashing round like a bull in a china shop.’
‘Basil’s here,’ said Jane between her teeth. ‘He’s brought his fiancée; they’re touring the house. They can have instant coffee and those biscuits I made yesterday.’
She bore the tray away presently and went in search of Basil and Myra. They were in her grandmother’s bedroom. ‘We’ll throw this stuff out for a start,’ Myra was saying, and looked over her shoulder as Jane went in.
‘It’s large enough,’ she conceded, ‘but some of the furniture is pretty out of date …’
‘Most of it is antique.’ She looked at Basil and added, ‘And quite valuable, I understand.’
‘Well, that’s for me to decide now. Is that coffee ready?’
‘In the drawing-room, if you’d like to come downstairs.’
Seething with rage though she was, Jane didn’t allow it to show; she handed the coffee and biscuits with perfect civility and made polite conversation.
‘Aren’t you bored here?’ asked Myra. ‘It must have been dull living here with an old lady.’
‘She was my grandmother,’ Jane replied tartly. ‘She was Basil’s too, you know. I like the country.’
‘Don’t you like living in London?’ asked Myra curiously.
‘I had friends there and a good job but I came here when I had weekends or holidays.’
Basil said suddenly, ‘Well, you’ll miss that. You’ve had your fair share of living in comfort here; you won’t be able to get round us the way you got round Grandmother. Myra and I are to be married within the next week or so, and we shall be living here. I suppose you’ll have to stay a few days longer to pack up your things—you can go and stay with some of those friends of yours,’ he added with a sneer. ‘And that woman in the kitchen, she can go too.’ His eye lighted on the basket under the rent table. ‘That dog and the cats—two of them? I’ll get the vet to collect them, they can be put down.’
Jane stared at him, willing herself not to speak until she could control her tongue. ‘In Grandmother’s will,’ she reminded him as soon as she could trust her voice, ‘she asked if I might regard this as home; I see now that that isn’t possible and I’m sure that if she had known that you intended marrying she wouldn’t have wanted that—I certainly don’t. Nor do I want any financial help from you, not that you’re likely to offer it, are you? She did, however, ask that the animals should be cared for. At least give me time to find homes for them.’
He laughed. ‘Well, I am taking care of them, aren’t I? And you’re right, Jane, I have no intention of doing anything for you; you can earn your own living any way you like. Find yourself a husband if you can, though with that sharp tongue of yours I doubt if you’ll succeed. I’ll be back in two days’ time. That woman who looks after the place can stay until I get new staff but you will go, you and the dog and cats.’ He got up. ‘Come along, darling, we’ll go back to town and get hold of a good interior decorator. He can get started by the end of the week and we can live in part of the house until he’s finished.’
They went to the door and Myra lingered for a moment. ‘You shouldn’t have much trouble finding a man,’ she observed kindly. ‘Doctors mostly marry nurses, don’t they? Nice meeting you.’
Jane stood on the steps outside the door for a long time making a great effort to get calm so that she could explain it all to Bessy. Presently she went along to the kitchen. The postman was there, drinking the mug of tea the housekeeper had poured for him and Jane said, ‘No, don’t get up, Jimmy, I’ll have a mug too, if I may, Bessy. Any letters?’
A handful for her and one for Bessy which she was reading.
‘Well, I never—that Mr Chepstow wants ter see me as soon as possible. Well, it’ll have ter be tomorror—the bus went ‘alf an ‘our ago.’
‘Give you a lift?’ offered Jimmy.
‘Well, I dunno—’as Mr Basil gone?’
‘Yes, Bessy, you go—you’ll be able to catch the afternoon bus back. You look fine—get your coat and hat while Jimmy finishes his tea.’
The house was very quiet when they had gone away in Jimmy’s van; Blandford wasn’t far and although Mr Chepstow hadn’t given any day or time in his letter surely he would see Bessy. To make sure, Jane picked up the telephone and explained to the solicitor.
‘Just a little matter of her signature,’ he explained, ‘I don’t know if she will stay on at the house; if not she will be glad to have the money.’
‘She will be leaving,’ said Jane. ‘Basil is getting married and coming to live here within the next week or so.’
‘And you?’
‘I