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it all before, reflected Jane. ‘I think that one is entitled to a holiday if one works hard for one’s living.’
Lady Grimstone’s complexion took on a dangerous hue. ‘I’m sure you are entitled to your opinion, Miss Fox; you are, of course, talking of menial workers. Smithers has a pleasant, easy life here, as no doubt you will discover for yourself while she is away.’
They drank their thimblefuls of sherry and went downstairs to the dining-room, which was exactly as Jane had expected it to be—heavy with red chenille curtains and massive furniture, the table set with great elegance. She wondered why someone had gone to all that trouble when they were served a soup so thin that it might have been, and probably was, an Oxo cube dissolved in a pint of water, followed by very small lamb chops, each lost with its sprig of parsley on the splendid porcelain plate and accompanied by a side-plate on which were arranged very prettily one small potato, a sliver of carrot and a morsel of broccoli. Jane, who had a splendid appetite and pleasantly Junoesque proportions to sustain, made hers last as long as possible and hoped for a substantial pudding.
Blancmange—something she hadn’t eaten and had hated since early childhood. She rose from the table still hungry, and resolved to stock up with biscuits as soon as she could get to the village shop.
Lady Grimstone, leading the way majestically from the dining-room, said over her shoulder, ‘Miss Smithers, let us say au revoir now. Miss Fox, you are free until four o’clock after you have settled me for my nap. You will take Bill for a walk and take any telephone calls and open the afternoon post which you will bring with you at precisely the hour.’
She bade Miss Smithers goodbye and ascended the staircase with Jane on her heels. Lady Grimstone took her nap in the drawing-room, lying on a chaise-longue before a splendid fire, but before she could compose herself there was ten minutes’ hard work for Jane. A shawl to be wrapped just so around the lady’s well covered shoulders, a fine rug to be spread over the rest of her person, a small table fetched and a glass of water, smelling salts, a fan and a clean handkerchief with a small bottle of lavender water arranged upon it—and not anyhow; each item had its appointed place. Jane, finished at last to her employer’s satisfaction, thought that she looked like someone in a Regency novel.
‘You may now go and enjoy your afternoon,’ said Lady Grimstone graciously.
It would be a short afternoon, reflected Jane, it was already two o’clock and Bill had to have his walk; and how was she to answer the phone if she was walking him? She didn’t ask; time was too precious.
She found Miss Smithers in her room. ‘I forgot to tell you that Lady Grimstone doesn’t like big meals. There’s a tin of digestive biscuits in the top drawer of the dressing-table, you can stock up on your half-day—you don’t have to be in until ten o’clock and there’s a quiet little pub in the village where you can get a good meal. Just tell them you’re taking over from me for a week or two and they’ll look after you. If you wanted to go to Blandford or Salisbury I’m afraid you can’t—the buses don’t fit and, even if they did, by the time you got there it would be time to come back.’ She smiled. ‘It’s only for a month and the village shop has all the basics, newspapers and magazines and so on. The postman, Ted, will take your letters and bring anything you may want. You’ll be all right?’
A bit late to ask, thought Jane, and said that yes, everything was fine. ‘Then I’m off; the car’s outside for me. I’ve put the cats in.’
They shook hands and Miss Smithers went away and presently Jane heard the car as it was driven away.
It was a clear chilly afternoon and she went along to the kitchen and collected Bill, exchanged the time of day with Mrs Gibb the cook and Petts, the grim-faced woman who had let them in. There was another woman there too, small and round. ‘Sarah,’ said Mrs Gibb, ‘gives a hand round the house—comes each day.’ She smiled at Jane. ‘New to this kind of job, are you? Thought so—well, we’ll all give you a helping hand if you need it.’
Jane thanked her, collected Bill and went back to her room, opened the door and let out Percy and Simpkin, also Bruno, and set off to explore the grounds. The garden around the house gave way presently to a shrubbery and a wide expanse of grass planted with ornamental trees and circled and criss-crossed by narrow paths—ideal for the animals since there was a twelve-foot wall surrounding them. She walked briskly, feeling the first chill of autumn, and as she walked she made plans. She would get the postman to take a note to the post office in the village; once she could get one of the nursing magazines delivered she could start to apply for a job. It might have to be temporary again but she had to have somewhere to go when she left Lady Grimstone, somewhere where the dog and cats would be welcome; she had better order the Lady too; failing a nursing post she could go as a companion at least for the time being while she found exactly what she wanted. She might have to go back to London …
She took her companions indoors, unpacked and then explored her room. It was comfortable enough and had its own small bathroom as well as the conservatory. She had been lucky to get the job, she reflected, a thought which led naturally enough to Professor van der Vollenhove. Did he work in London, she wondered, or did he live in Holland and travel around? Probably the latter, she thought, if he was sufficiently well known. During her years in hospital she had met several medical men who travelled widely, famous not only in their own country but in half the world as well. Her thoughts lingered on him and she wondered if she would see him again. It seemed unlikely. She was puzzling over her feeling of regret at the thought when she glanced at her watch; time to see if there was any post and tidy herself ready for what she hoped would be tea and cake.
Bill had stayed in her room, perfectly happy with his new friends, and, not sure if Lady Grimstone wanted him or not, she left him there and went along to the kitchen. Mrs Gibbs was at the table, cutting wafer-thin bread and butter.
‘The post?’ asked Jane. ‘I was told to collect it—do I come here for it?’
‘The hall, miss, on the table under the tiger head. If you want to see the postman he’s here every morning at half-past seven, having a cuppa with us. He’ll take your letters and bring you anything from the shop. Been doing it for years for Miss Smithers.’
She glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. ‘Tea in ten minutes, miss; time you got that post and had it ready for her ladyship.’
Jane thanked her and fetched the few letters on the tray. She slit the envelopes and carried them upstairs just as the long case clock in the hall chimed the hour.
She went into the drawing-room quietly and paused. Lady Grimstone was snoring with tremendous gusto but Jane supposed that she wouldn’t want the servants to see her like that, lying anyhow, when they brought the tea-tray. She opened the curtains and let in the early dusk and her employer woke with a snort and sat up.
‘I must have dozed off after lunch—it was rather a heavy meal.’ A remark Jane felt unable to answer as she unwound the shawl and rug and helped Lady Grimstone to her feet, eased her into her chair and handed the post. Just in nice time; the tea-tray, borne by Blake, arrived then—Earl Grey tea, milkless of course, bread and butter she could see through and very small fairy cakes. Lady Grimstone ate all but one of the cakes.
In bed at last, Jane reflected on her day. It hadn’t been too bad; although dinner, for which she had been told to dress, had been as meagre as lunch and she had eaten half the biscuits as she got ready for bed and was still hungry; the roast pigeon and straw potatoes followed by semolina shape had done little to fill her. ‘But it’s only for a month,’ she told Percy and Simpkin, curled up at the end of the bed, and Bruno from his basket growled gently. ‘At least we’re all together, thanks to Professor van der Vollenhove.’
She fell asleep thinking about him.
CHAPTER THREE
BY THE end of the third day Jane realised that the professor had been quite right: Lady Grimstone was an extremely difficult woman with whom to live. She was self-centred, selfish and quite uncaring about anything or anyone other than herself, although Jane had to admit that she had a fondness