LITMIR.BIZ

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      Mr Crouch was noted for his weather predictions. ‘I might get holed up too,’ said Patience. ‘Just to be on the safe side I think I’ll talk to Mrs Dodge … she might have to keep an eye on the aunts.’

      ‘Yes, do that, love. Got plenty of stores up at the house, have they?’

      ‘Enough for a week, but not bread or milk, and there might be power cuts.’

      ‘Well, you bear it in mind. Remember that winter four years back—you was all cut off for days—us as well—real blizzard that were and no mistake.’

      ‘It’s only half a mile away from the village,’ observed Patience.

      ‘Might just as well be ten miles when there’s drifts.’ Mr Crouch wiped down the counter. ‘I’ve a tasty pair of chops if you fancy them to give Miss Martin and her sister …’

      Patience took the chops and herself off home to the aunts, waiting with ladylike patience for their tea.

      She broached the subject of possible bad weather to Miss Murch on the next day.

      ‘There’s nothing on the weather forecast,’ said Miss Murch. ‘I shall want some carrots from the garden; Mr van der Beek likes a carrot.’

      Patience didn’t think that Mr van der Beek would enjoy anything as homely as a carrot but she went and found old Ned, who filled her trug and remarked gloomily that there was bad weather on the way and how was he supposed to get at the cabbages and leeks if they got snowed up?

      ‘Miss Murch says there’s nothing on the weather forecast …’

      Old Ned’s snort dismissed Miss Murch. ‘And what do she know about it, eh?’ He patted a string of splendid onions with a loving hand. ‘You mark my words …’

      Patience, who had more faith in old Ned and Mr Crouch than the weathermen, had another go at Miss Murch. ‘This house has been cut off during bad weather,’ she volunteered, not mentioning that she and her aunts had been cut off too. ‘The snow drifts badly here—it’s rather flat, you see.’

      ‘Then what are the snowploughs for?’ asked Miss Murch witheringly. ‘This may be the back of beyond but presumably it is entitled to the same public services as those enjoyed by more civilised parts.’

      Patience gave up and went away to answer the doorbell. Someone from a firm in Norwich wanting to know if the owner of the house would like double glazing.

      ‘Well, he’s not here—away for a few days.’ Patience, hardened to telling fibs, after a little pause added, ‘If you want to come again it would save a lot of time if you phoned first. He’s not often at home.’

      She smiled kindly at the man, who looked as though he could have done with a warm drink. On her own she would undoubtedly have given him one. ‘You could try the vicarage if you haven’t called there already …’

      He went away quite cheerful; she was sure the vicar couldn’t afford double glazing but she was just as sure that the man would be given a cup of tea. Selling double glazing in January was no way to earn a living; she thought of Mr van der Beek, secure in the cosy fastness of his study, having regular meals and earning fabulous sums just by sitting at a desk and writing.

      Mr van der Beek was indeed sitting at his desk, but he wasn’t writing. To his annoyance his powerful brain was refusing to concentrate upon transcribing his notes into plain English—interlarded with Latin medical terms of course—instead, he found his thoughts wandering towards his general factotum. A mouse-like creature if ever there was one, he reflected, and surely with that ordinary face and mouse-like hair she didn’t need to dress like a mouse? Her eyes were beautiful, though; he reflected for a few moments on the length and curl of her eyelashes. She had a charming voice too … He picked up his pen and summarily dismissed her from his mind.

      The following morning when Patience went down to the kitchen garden she found old Ned stacking carrots, leeks and turnips in neat piles in the greenhouse. ‘Them turnips will be tough,’ he pointed out, ‘seeing as ‘ow there weren’t no one to dig ‘em up at the proper time. They’ll bake, though, and likely keep you going while the snow lasts.’

      Patience didn’t argue with him; she could see that the weather was changing with sullen clouds creeping in from the sea and a nasty cold wind.

      ‘It’ll be snowing by the morning,’ said old Ned.

      He was right; there was already a light covering when she got up and the still dark sky had a nasty yellow tinge to it. She was glad that she had seen Mrs Dodge, who lived close by and even in very bad weather would be able to get to the aunts. She had stocked up the kitchen cupboard too. She made sure that the house was warm and her aunts suitably clad and fed before setting out for the house; the weather report had mentioned light snow in East Anglia and for the moment, at any rate, it was quite right; the snow drifted down, occasionally blown into a flurry by a gust of east wind, cold enough to take her breath. It was pleasant to enter the warm house and sniff the fragrance of bacon, still lingering in the kitchen after Miss Murch had cooked Mr van der Beek’s breakfast.

      ‘You’d better fetch the vegetables while you’ve got your outdoor things on,’ said Miss Murch, adding grudgingly that it wasn’t a nice morning.

      Old Ned in mittens and an overcoat was in the greenhouse. ‘No good me staying ‘ere,’ he told Patience. ‘I’ve picked some sprouts; you’d better take ‘em with you. What’s it to be today?’

      ‘Onions and carrots, but I’ll take the sprouts and a cabbage, in case I can’t get down tomorrow.’ She added hopefully, ‘Perhaps the snow won’t last.’

      To which remark her companion gave a derisive cackle of laughter.

      It snowed gently all day but not alarmingly so, Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch came and went, and the house, polished and hoovered and delightfully warm, made nonsense of the chilly weather outside. Patience went home at four o’clock and, being country born and bred, sniffed the air with a knowledgeable little nose—there was more snow on the way. She called at Mr Crouch’s shop and bought braising steak and plenty of bacon; a really large casserole would last them two days and only need warming up …

      As she went out of the shop the Bentley whispered past with Mr van der Beek at the wheel—so he’d been away all day. She frowned, thinking of the care with which she and Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch had moved silently around the house so that he shouldn’t be disturbed—and all for nothing. She stood looking after the car and Mr van der Beek watched her in his side-mirror. She was wearing the old Burberry again and a woolly cap in some useful colour pulled down over her hair. Really, he thought irritably, the girl had no dress sense.

      It was still snowing when she left the little house in the morning and the sky was ominously dark. She had left a substantial casserole cooked and ready, peeled potatoes for two days, and left everything as ready as possible for her aunts just in case she wouldn’t be able to get home at midday. Mrs Dodge would go in, of course, and almost everyone in the village knew where she was; all the same she felt a faint unease, for the wind was getting strong, blowing the snow into spirals going in every direction.

      The worsening weather seemed to have no effect upon the occupants of the house. Patience, unaware that Mr van der Beek had been out early with Basil, thought that probably he had no idea how wintry it could be in Norfolk at that time of the year, and, as for Miss Murch, she had no interest in the outside world; she was already in the kitchen making marmalade.

      The weather became steadily worse as the morning wore on and Mrs Croft and Mrs Perch left earlier than usual, declaring that the school would surely close early because of the weather and the children would be sent home. Patience, taking a look out of the window, decided not to try and struggle home and back again—in less than an hour it wouldn’t be possible and, as if to underline her decision, the wind increased with a quite frightening suddenness.

      By mid-afternoon it was dark and the wind was howling around the house. Patience, bidden by Miss Murch to draw the curtains, could see

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