A Happy Meeting Part 5

"I can't think why you stayed. Miss Cressida, you could have gone months ago..."

"I wasn't going to leave you here. Moggy," was all Cressida would say.

Miss Mogford stared at her, her arms full of clothes.

"So that's why you've put up with your stepmother's tantrums.

I'll not forget that, love. If ever you need help or a home or just someone to talk to, I'll be there waiting and don't you forget it. "

Cressida put down the shoes she was polis.h.i.+ng and cast her arms around Miss Mogford.

"Moggy, you are a darling, and I'll remember that and I promise that I'll come to you if I need help or advice or a bed. I shall miss you."

Moggy's stern countenance softened.

"I shall miss you too after all this time. It hasn't been easy, has it? But everything'll come right now. You really want to go to this old lady?"

"Yes, oh, yes, I do. It's a start, I can get a reference from her and I suppose I'll get paid--I forgot to ask-- I'll save all I can and besides Mr. Tims said there was a little money for me. I'd better go and see him tomorrow... No, I'll phone, he can send the money here."

She wrapped her shoes carefully and put them into the shabby suitcase.

"We'd better go and start dinner. Stepmother's alone this evening."

"Well, don't let her put upon you," advised Miss Mogford firmly.

Cressida turned eyes s.h.i.+ning like stars upon her companion.

"I won't.

Moggy, never again. "

CHAPTER THREE.

by lunchtime on Thursday Cressida could feel nothing but relief at leaving her home. Mrs. Preece had tried every gambit known to her in her efforts to make Cressida and Miss Mogford change their minds. She had had no success and had resorted to bad temper and reproaches, despite which Cressida had been to the village and arranged for one of the women who came to help in the house to move in temporarily until a new housekeeper could be engaged. She had met the postman on the way and he had given her a letter from Mr. Tims--a registered letter containing a hundred pounds and a note--couched in dry-as-dust terms, wis.h.i.+ng her well and advising her to use the money prudently until such time as she had a permanent job. Cressida, who hadn't laid hands on anything like that sum for some time, skipped all the way home--rather clumsily because her ankle still pained her at times.

No sooner had she entered the house than her stepmother called to her from the drawing-room.

"Since you're not going until after lunch you might as well get it ready. I'm far too upset to eat much; I'll have an omelette and some thin toast and my usual junket. You had better open a bottle of white wine too." She picked up the novel she was reading.

"And don't bother to say goodbye, you ungrateful girl. I'll have a tray here."

Cressida went to the kitchen and found Miss Mogford in the process of getting ready to leave. The baker's van would be calling shortly and the driver was giving her a lift to Templecombe where her sister had a small cottage. Her old-fas.h.i.+oned trunk and cardboard suitcase were already in the hall and as she sat at the kitchen table, wearing her best coat and a rather terrifying hat, she looked as stern as usual but when Cressida joined her her face crumpled.

That it should come to this--you being turned out of your own home. "

"Well, I've turned myself out, haven't I, Moggy? I hate leaving and so do you but we shall both be a lot happier. After all, it hasn't been much fun since Father died. Has stepmother paid you your wages?"

Miss Mogford nodded.

"I had to ask her for them. And what about you, Miss Cressy? Will you be all right? Supposing this old lady is too much of a handful?"

"Old ladies, on the whole, are rather nice. Moggy, and in any case it's only for a few weeks then I can pick and choose." Cressida spoke bracingly because Moggy sounded worried, but she felt uncertain of the future, although she had every intention of making a success of whatever she ended up doing. Leaving her home was a sadness she hadn't quite realised, but to stay forever, pandering to her stepmother's whims, was something no longer to be borne. She had been longing for something to happen and now it had and she would make the very best of it.

"There's the baker," she said, and bustled her old friend out into the hall.

"Now you've got my address and I've got yours, we'll write regularly and as soon as we can we'll have a few hours together." She put her arms round Moggy's spare frame and hugged her.

"I'm going to miss you dreadfully but you're going to be happy and so am I." She planted a kiss on the housekeeper's cheek.

"Now off you go. I'll be leaving in an hour or two..."

Miss Mogford spoke gruffly.

"If your poor pa could see you now, he'd turn in his grave. This isn't what he intended."

"Well, never mind that, Moggy, we're both getting a chance, aren't we?

It's rather exciting. "

She walked Miss Mogford out to the van and found that the driver had stowed the luggage in the back, and was waiting to settle his pa.s.senger into the front seat. The last Cressida saw of Moggy was her elderly face rigid with suppressed feelings staring out from under that hat.

In the kitchen, warming the milk for the junket, Cressida shed a few tears. She hadn't meant to, they had oozed out from under her lids and she had wiped them away at once. She was going to miss Moggy, she was going to miss her home too and those of her friends whom she saw from time to time, but, she told herself firmly, this was something she had wished for and now it had happened and she must make the most of it. She made the junket, then beat the eggs for the omelette and cut herself a sandwich, for there wouldn't be time for anything more.

Her stepmother was making things as difficult as possible--she wanted fruit and more coffee and a novel she had put down somewhere and simply had to have. Cressida attending to these wants, gobbled her sandwich as she tidied the kitchen just in time to get her elderly tweed coat as a car drew up before the house. Her stepmother's tray hadn't been cleared and nothing had been done about dinner that evening; Cressida, feeling guilty, didn't mind. She went quietly from the old house with her two shabby suitcases and was met on the doorstep by an elderly man with a weatherbeaten face who wished her good day in a friendly voice and stowed her luggage in the boot of the elderly Daimler.

She had gone to the drawing-room on her way out, and, despite Mrs. Preece's wish, had been determined to bid her goodbye.

"I told you not to come, Cressida, and as far as I'm concerned you need not bother to return. I wash my hands of you."

So Cressida got into the car beside the driver and didn't look back, telling herself firmly that she had gone through one of life's doors and shut it behind her.

The driver was friendly and disposed to talk. He was the gardener at Lady Men-ill's place, he ex G plained, and besides that he drove the car when it was wanted and did odd jobs around the place.

"Do you drive, miss?" he wanted to know and when Cressida said that yes, she did, although she had seldom had the chance, he gave the opinion that it would be a good thing if she could drive the car sometimes, "For Lady Merrill doesn't go out often, but when she does I have to leave my garden," he explained.

"Does her permanent companion drive?" asked Cressida.

He didn't answer at once.

"Er well, no. You'll be a real blessing."

"Well, I do hope so. I haven't been a companion before. Will you tell me your name, please?"

"Bert, Miss. There's Mr. Baxter, the butler, 'e's old, and Mrs.

Wiffin the cook and Elsie the parlour maid they've all been there, same as me, for nigh on thirty years and no notion of leaving, neither."

"Lady Merrill is elderly, isn't she? I don't mean to gossip about her, but I don't really know very much about the job."

"Well, now. Lady Merrill is what you might call elderly, all ofeighty-three, but very spry and nothing wrong in the head as you mightsay. She'll be glad to have someone young around the place."

"I hope I won't be too young; is her companion elderly?"

"Elderly, oh, yes, miss. Like dogs, do you?"

"Very much."

"Two Pekinese we've got. m.u.f.f and Belle, nice little beasts."

Cressida was soothed by his amiable talk. By the time they reached Lady Men-ill's house she was in good spirits, sustained by the fatherly att.i.tude of Baxter when he opened the door to her.

"Lady Men-ill rests in the afternoon," he told her as he showed her into the hall, 'but Elsie will take you to your room so that you can unpack if you wish. Perhaps a tray of tea? She will let you know when Lady Merrill is awake. "

Elsie was nice too; elderly and thin and wearing an old-fas.h.i.+oned black dress and a white ap.r.o.n.

"You come with me, miss, and I'll bring you a nice pot of tea presently," she observed, guiding Cressida up the oak staircase at the

back of the hall.

The room into which she was shown was charming, not over large but furnished in great comfort. Her case was already there and Elsie said comfortably, "You just unpack, miss, and I'll be up with your tea in a brace of shakes."

Left to herself, Cressida peered into cupboards and drawers, put her head round a door to find a small but luxuriously equipped bathroom, and then started to unpack. She hadn't finished when Elsie came back with the tea, nicely arranged on a tray; paper-thin china and a plate of fairy cakes arranged round a small silver teapot. Cressida thanked her and settled down to enjoy the dainty meal; it was'a long time since anyone had served her tea on a tray. An hour later she was led to a room at the front of the house and ushered in by Elsie.

"It's the young lady, my lady," said Elsie cheerfully. Plainly the staff weren't afraid of their mistress; they weren't familiar either, Cressida had the impression that they were de voted to her.

Lady Men-ill was on a day bed, propped up by pillows and cus.h.i.+ons and covered with a gossamer fine rug. She looked older than Cressida had expected but there was nothing elderly about her bright eyes and brisk voice.

"Come over here, my dear, where I can see you," and, when Cressida did so, she examined her from head to foot.

"I hope you will be happy while you are here. Mrs. Sefton was so delighted to arrange for you to come here. I believe she knows your stepmother?"

Cressida said cautiously, "They met at dinner par ties and other people's houses. I've met her several times at fetes and church bazaars."

"A good-hearted woman! I shall call you Cressida."

"I should like that. Lady Merrill. Could you tell me what you would like me to do? I I haven't been a companion before and I'm not sure..."

"Well, now, let me see. I shan't need you until ten o'clock each morning; I breakfast in bed and Elsie helps me dress. I like to read my letters and I expect you' to answer them for me, run errands, read to me my sight isn't very good and talk. I like to talk. Do you watch television?"

"Well, no, very seldom." Cressida reflected that there had never been much opportunity for her to do so and the only TV had been in the drawing-room where she had seldom had the time to sit.

"I watch the news," said Lady Merrill, 'and any thing which I consider worthwhile. You shall read the programmes to me each morning so that I can decide if there is anything in which I am interested. You will have your meals with me. Do you play cards or chess? or cribbage? I enjoy patience. "

"Well, yes, I play chess, not very well and cribbage I used to play with my father. I'm no good at Bridge."

"Never mind that we need four to make a game and I've better things to do than sit around a table bickering over the wrong cards I played."

The old lady nodded.

"You'll do, Cressida."

Elsie came in with the tea-tray and Lady Merrill said, "Pour me a cup, my dear, and sit down and have your tea with me." Nothing loath, Cressida did as she was bid, to be questioned at length as to her life at home and her plans for the future. The questions were put in such a kindly manner that she found herself saying rather more than she intended, although thinking about it afterwards she comforted herself with the thought that since she was unlikely to see Lady Merrill once she had left the house it didn't really matter, and in any case she gave vague and evasive answers which, while not misleading, weren't absolutely true.

She was told to go away and unpack her things and return when the gong sounded for dinner, a meal taken in the old lady's company in a rather dark room, ma.s.sively furnished. The food was delicious and Lady Merrill, despite her age, an excellent talker.

Later, getting ready for bed, Cressida standing at her window, warmly wrapped in her dressing-gown against the chill of the night, watched the moon's fitful beams between the clouds and breathed a great gusty sigh of thankfulness. She surely missed her home and Moggy, but she felt in her bones at the same time that she would be happy in this nice old house. For her first job away from home she hadn't done so badly, she reflected; it was a good omen for the future. She got into bed and her last waking thought was that it was a pity she couldn't let Dr. van der Linus know that she had fallen on her feet. He had been very kind. she wondered sleepily where he was.

Dr. van der Linus was sitting in the drawing-room of a patrician house in Leiden, listening to Nicola van Germert describing a visit she had paid to friends in Amsterdam. She had an amusing way of talking although there was a hint of malice, but he supposed that she could be forgiven that for it spiced her account just enough to make those listening to her smile and from time to time laugh outright. He sat watching her now: a pretty young woman in her late twenties, self-a.s.sured, well dressed and confident of her place in society. She would make a good wife, for she had all the attributes of a good hostess and would have no difficulty in managing his home in Friesland. They had known each other for some time now and al though nothing had been said their friends were be ginning to take it for granted that they would marry. Indeed, he had taken it for granted himself; he was thirty-five, time to settle down, although up until now he had been too immersed in his work to think of marriage. He supposed that if he had met a girl and fallen in love . but he hadn't. Perhaps he was getting too old. He roused himself from his thoughts and joined in the laughter at one of Nicola's witty're marks, and she smiled at him with a faintly possessive air.

The party broke up shortly after that and he drove himself back to the elegant little house he lived in when he was working in Leiden. He had forgotten Nicola, his mind already busy with the next day's patients.