LITMIR.BIZ

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and Norma had got into her elderly car and driven away. There were eight boys left, and with Mr Gardiner’s permission Araminta had planned one or two treats for the next day. The pier was still open and some of the amusements—the slot machines, the games which never yielded up a prize, the fortune-teller—were still there.

      After their midday dinner she marshalled her little flock and, armed with a pocket full of tenpenny pieces which she handed out amongst them, she let them try everything and then trotted them along the esplanade and into the town, where they had tea at one of the smartest cafés.

      Mr Gardiner had told her to give them a good time, that she would be reimbursed, so they ate an enormous tea and, content with their outing, walked back through the dusk to the school. Since it was a holiday they were allowed to stay up for an hour and watch television after their supper. Araminta, going from bed to bed wishing them goodnight, was almost as tired as they were.

      She put everything ready for the morning before she went to bed, praying that Norma would be as good as her word and return punctually.

      She did. Araminta, back from church with the boys and Mr Gardiner and his wife, wished everyone a hurried goodbye and went out of the school gate to find Mrs Ingram waiting there.

      ‘You’ve not been waiting long?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘It’s been a bit of a scramble.’

      ‘Five minutes. How nice to see you again, Mintie. I thought we’d stop for lunch on the way; we’ll be home before three o’clock and then we’ll have an early tea with the boys. They can’t wait to see you again.’

      ‘It’s very kind of you to invite me. I—I didn’t expect to see you or the boys again.’

      ‘You like this new job?’ Mrs Ingram was driving fast along the almost empty road.

      ‘Yes, very much. I’ve only been here for a week. I started nursing, but I wasn’t any good at it. Dr van der Breugh happened to see me at the hospital and arranged for me to give up training, and he happened to know of this school. He’s been very kind.’

      Mrs Ingram shot her a quick look. ‘Yes, he is. Far too busy, too. We don’t see enough of him, so thank heaven for the phone. Now, tell me, what exactly do you do?’

      The drive seemed shorter than it was; they found plenty to talk about, and stopped for a snack meal at a service station. The time passed pleasantly and, true to her word, Mrs Ingram stopped the car at her home just before three o’clock.

CHAPTER NINE

      PETER and Paul fell upon her with a rapturous welcome. They had missed her, they chorused, and did she still remember the Dutch they had taught her when they were in Holland? And did she remember that lovely toy shop? And why did she have to live so far away? And was she to stay for a long, long time? For they had, assured Peter, an awful lot to tell her. But first she must go into the garden and see the goldfish…

      They had a splendid tea presently, and then everyone sat around the table and played Snakes and Ladders, Ludo and the Racing Game, relics from Mr Ingram’s childhood. Then it was time for supper, and nothing would do but that Araminta should go upstairs when they were in bed and tell them a story.

      ‘You always did in Uncle Marcus’s house,’ they reminded her.

      The day was nicely rounded off by dinner with the Ingrams and an hour or so round the drawing room fire talking about everything under the sun, except Marcus.

      It was still dark when she awoke in the pretty bedroom.

      ‘It’s a bit early,’ said Peter as the pair of them got onto her bed and pulled the eiderdown around them, ‘but you’ve got to go again at tea time, haven’t you? So we thought you might like to wake up so’s we can talk.’

      The day went too quickly. They didn’t go out, for the weather had turned nasty—a damp, misty, chilly November day—but there had been plenty to do indoors. It was mid-afternoon when Mr Ingram took the boys into the garden to make sure that the goldfish were alive and waiting for their food, leaving Mrs Ingram and Araminta sitting in the drawing room, talking idly.

      They were discussing clothes. ‘It must be delightful—’ began Araminta, and stopped speaking as the door opened and the doctor came in.

      He nodded, smiling, at his sister, and said, ‘Hello, Mintie.’

      Nothing could have prevented her glorious smile at the sight of him. He noted it with deep satisfaction and watched her pale cheeks suddenly pinken.

      ‘Good afternoon, Doctor,’ said Araminta, replacing the smile with what she hoped was mild interest, bending to examine one of her shoes.

      Mrs Ingram got up to kiss him. ‘Marcus, how very punctual you are. We’re about to have tea. Such a pity that Araminta has to go back this evening.’

      The doctor glanced at his watch. ‘You have to be back to get the boys settled in again?’ he asked Araminta. ‘If we leave around four o’clock that should get you there in good time.’

      Araminta looked at Mrs Ingram, who said airily, ‘Oh, you won’t mind if Marcus drives you back, will you, Araminta? After all, you do know each other, and you’ll have plenty to talk about.’

      ‘But it’s miles out of your way…?’

      Araminta, filled with delight at the thought of several hours in Marcus’s company, nonetheless felt it her duty to protest.

      ‘I am interested to hear how you are getting on at the school,’ he observed blandly. ‘I feel sure that there will be no chance to discuss that once the boys have come indoors.’

      Which was true enough. They swarmed over their uncle and grown-up conversation of any kind was at a minimum. Tea was eaten at the table: plates of thinly cut bread and butter, crumpets, toasted teacakes, a sponge cake and a chocolate cake.

      ‘The boys chose what we should have for tea—all the things you like most, Araminta,’ said Mrs Ingram. ‘And, I suspect, all the things they like most, too! We always have an old-fashioned tea with them. I can’t say I enjoy milkless tea and one biscuit at four o’clock.’

      She glanced at her brother. ‘Did you have time for lunch, Marcus?’

      ‘Oh, yes. It’s Briskett’s day off, but he leaves me something.’ He sounded vague. But there was nothing vague about his manner when presently he said that they must leave if Araminta needed to be back at the school by six o’clock. She fetched her overnight bag and got into her coat, then made her farewells—lengthy ones when it came to the boys, who didn’t want her to go.

      ‘Araminta must come and see us all again soon,’ said Mr Ingram. ‘She gets holidays just like you do.’

      A remark which served to cheer up the boys so that she and Marcus left followed by a cheerful chorus of goodbyes.

      Beyond asking her if she were comfortable, the doctor had nothing to say. It wasn’t until they were on the M4, travelling fast through the early dusk, that he began a desultory conversation about nothing in particular. He was intent on putting Araminta at her ease, for she was sitting stiff as a poker beside him, giving him the strong impression that given the opportunity she would jump out of the car.

      She had said very little to him at his sister’s house, something which no one but himself had noticed, and now she was behaving as though he were a stranger. Driving to Oxford that afternoon, he had decided to ask her to marry him, but now he could see that that was something he must not do. For some reason she was keeping him at arm’s length, and yet at St Jules’ she had flung those arms around him with every appearance of relief and delight at seeing him. She seemed happy enough at the school. Perhaps she was trying to make it plain that she resented his reappearance now that she had settled into a job that she liked.

      They reached the M25 and he was relieved to see that her small stern profile had resolved itself into

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