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day…’
Tilly said tonelessly, ‘I’ll get it,’ and went out of the room to the kitchen where she found Emma crying over a plate of cakes. ‘Oh, Miss Tilly, whatever came over your uncle? The dear man couldn’t have thought…’
Tilly put the kettle on. ‘Well, yes, he did, and I’m sure he thought he was doing the right thing. He hasn’t seen Herbert for years; he wasn’t to know what he’s like.’ She shuddered. ‘I’m to stay here until I marry and when I do, Emma, you’re coming with me.’
‘Of course I will, Miss Tilly. Me stay ’ere with that nasty man? You and Mr Waring find a nice ’ouse and I’ll look after it for you.’
She wiped her nice elderly face and put the cakes on the tea tray. ‘I dare say it won’t take too long.’
‘Well, no. I’d told Mrs Waring that I didn’t want to get married for a month or two, but now things are altered…’
Her aunt and Herbert and Jane were driving back to Cheltenham that evening. He had work to do, Herbert had told her pompously, but he would write and tell her their plans within the next few days. He owned a small factory on the outskirts of the town which he supposed he could run just as well from the house he had inherited as his own smaller, modern one in Cheltenham. ‘If that isn’t satisfactory I can sell this place—it should fetch a good price.’
Tilly didn’t say anything—what would be the good? Uncle Thomas had so obviously meant it to stay in the family and for Herbert to provide a home for her for as long as she would need one. She bade them a polite goodbye and went thankfully to help clear away the tea things and then phone Leslie.
To her disappointment he had already gone back to London. ‘He won’t be back until the weekend, my dear,’ his mother told her. ‘Why not give him a ring? I expect you want to tell him about the will—so very satisfactory that you can settle on a date for the wedding now.’
Tilly held her tongue; everyone would know sooner or later but she wanted Leslie to be the first. She would phone him in the morning; better still, she would drive up to town and see him.
She dressed carefully in the morning, taking pains with her face and hair and wearing a suit Leslie had said that he liked. It was still early when she left and she was at his rooms soon after ten o’clock. His clerk was reluctant to accept her wish to see Mr Waring without delay.
‘It’s most important,’ said Tilly and smiled at him with charm, so that he picked up the receiver to announce her.
Leslie looked different—she supposed it was his sober suit and manner to go with it—but he greeted her warmly enough. ‘Sit down, Tilly—I’ve fifteen minutes or so before I go to court. Have you decided to marry me after all? I thought you would once you heard your uncle’s will.’
There was no sense in beating about the bush. She said quickly, not mincing matters, ‘He left the house to my cousin Herbert, with the wish that I make it my home until I marry.’
The sudden frown on Leslie’s face frightened her a little. ‘You mean to say that your uncle has left you nothing?’
‘Five hundred pounds. He made the request that Herbert would pay me a fitting allowance…’
‘Can the will be overset? I’ll see your solicitor. Why, you’re penniless.’
Tilly stared at him. ‘That makes a difference to our plans?’ she asked, and knew without a doubt that it did.
CHAPTER TWO
LESLIE looked at his wristwatch. ‘I must go. This is something which we must discuss quietly. I’ll come home as usual tomorrow and we can talk everything over with my mother and father.’
‘I haven’t told them as I didn’t think there was any need to. After all, they have been urging us to get married now that Uncle is dead.’ Tilly’s voice was calm but inside she shook and trembled with uncertainty. She had expected Leslie to reassure her, tell her that she had no need to worry, that he would take care of her future. Now she wasn’t sure of that.
Leslie looked uncomfortable. ‘Look, old girl, we’ll sort things out tomorrow.’ He got up and came round his desk and kissed her cheek. ‘Not to worry.’
But of course she worried, all the way back home and for the rest of the day. The house seemed so empty, the surgery and the waiting-room empty, too, waiting until Monday when the medical centre in Haddenham were to send over one of their members to take morning surgery until such time as a new doctor came to the village or things were reorganised and a small surgery was set up and run by the Haddenham doctors. In any case, thought Tilly, she would never be needed any more. Not that that would matter if she married Leslie. For the first time she put her nebulous thoughts into words. ‘Leslie might not want to marry me now.’
She had a phone call from Mrs Waring the next morning; would she go over for dinner that evening? Leslie hoped to be home rather earlier than usual, and they had a lot to discuss. There was a letter from Herbert, too; he and Jane and her aunt would be coming down and would go over the house and make any changes needed at the beginning of the week. Jane and his mother would move in very shortly, he wrote, and he would commute until such time as the sale of his own house was dealt with. The letter ended with the observation that she was probably looking for a nursing post.
She put the letter tidily back into its envelope. It wasn’t something she could ignore; it was only too clear that that was what she was expected to do. Unless Leslie married her out of hand…
Something it was only too obvious he didn’t intend to do.
His, ‘Hello, old girl,’ was as friendly as it always had been and his parents greeted her just as they had always done for years, yet there was an air of uneasiness hanging over the dinner-table and a deliberate avoidance of personal topics. It was only when they were drinking their coffee in the drawing-room that the uneasiness became distinctly evident.
‘I hear,’ said Mrs Waring, at her most majestic, ‘that your uncle’s will was unexpected. Leslie tells me that there is no way of contesting it.’
Tilly glanced at Leslie. So he had spoken about it with his parents, had he? He didn’t look at her, which was just as well, for her gaze was fierce.
‘It has always been our dearest wish,’ went on Mrs Waring in a false voice, ‘that you and dear Leslie should marry—your uncle’s property matched with ours, the house was ideal for a young couple to set up home; besides, we have known you for so many years. You would have been most suitable.’ She sighed so deeply that her corsets creaked. ‘It grieves us very much that this cannot be. You must see for yourself, my dear, that our plans are no longer practical. We are not wealthy; Leslie needs to marry someone with money of her own, someone who can—er—share the expenses of married life while he makes a career for himself. Luckily there is no official engagement.’
Tilly put down her coffee cup, carefully, because her hands were shaking. ‘You have put it very clearly, Mrs Waring. Now I should like to hear what Leslie has to say. After all, it’s his life you are talking about, isn’t it?’ She paused. ‘And mine.’
She looked at Leslie, who gave her a weak smile and looked away. ‘Well, old girl, you can see for yourself… Where would we live? I can’t afford a decent place in town. Besides, I’d need money—you can’t get to the top of the ladder without it…meeting the right people and entertaining…’ He met Tilly’s eye and stopped.
‘I can see very well,’ said Tilly in an icy little voice, ‘and I am so thankful that the engagement isn’t official. If it were I would break it here and now. A pity I have no ring, for I would fling it in your face, Leslie.’
She got to her feet and whisked herself out of the room, snatched her coat from the hall and ran out of the house.
She couldn’t get home fast enough; she half ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, rage bubbling and boiling inside her. It was fortunate that it was a dark evening