I'll Never Marry! (11 page)

Cecily was charming, in a completely sincere and unaffected way. She told Catherine that she had been
“
particularly disappointed
”
at being laid up on the day of the tea-party—though adding that it was all her own fault for having spent the previous afternoon out in the sun without either a hat or sun glasses.

“
I do so want you to come again,
”
she declared frankly.
“
Couldn
’
t we settle on a day?
”

And when Catherine explained that it sometimes proved easier in practice to get away at the last minute than to make arrangements far ahead—that foster-mothers, like ordinary mothers, were apt to be rather
“
tied
”
—she promised to ring up some evening in the near future and see if she were free.

While Catherine chatted away to Cecily, she was catching fragments of the conversation which Andrew was carrying on with the children. He was teasing Ruth, it seemed, about a splodge of green paint on her nose, and between them the children were letting out the whole secret of their mysterious expedition, generously handing all the credit for the operation to Catherine he
r
self.

“
It was Winnie
’
s idea,
”
she pointed out quickly, turning away from Cecily for a moment—for, without quite knowing why, she did not care to be thought so keenly solicitous on Geoffrey
’
s account.

“
Oh, but you
’
ve always been saying how nice it would be if we could do Mr. Barbin a good turn,
”
Winnie countered ingenuously.
“
You put it into my head, really.
”

Catherine, aware of Andrew
’
s thoughtful glance in her direction, felt herself flushing. What notions was he getting now? Couldn
’
t he realize that her feelings towards the various men she was meeting were quite impersonal: that her interests were concentrated on the children and their welfare?

Very dignified and proper reflections, no doubt; and if another question tapped at her brain—the question why she was so sharply concerned with Andrew
’
s thoughts about her—that was one which she had no intention of even trying to answer.

The little group broke up now—with Andrew and Cecily vowed to secrecy over the painting enterprise—and the Garsford House party made their way home, very late for tea, but comfortably certain that, in Hilda
’
s absence, there would be no frowns.

Their return was greeted with great excitement. Everyone wanted to know whether they had managed to avoid being seen by Geoffrey and his men, whether the paint had lasted out, and how long they
thought it would be before Geoffrey discovered what had been done for him.

No one could answer this last point, and Sunday and Monday passed without any word from Geoffrey—a not surprising circumstance, since it was known that he had not been using that particular greenhouse for some time.

Tuesday brought Hilda back—a Hilda much refreshed by her brief holiday
,
and laden with an immense tin of toffee for the children. And seeing the pleasure with which she
handed
over the gift, paid for out of her modest salary, Catherine felt remorseful at not having missed her more.

“
It
’
s partly my own fault I don
’
t work more smoothly with her,
”
she thought.
“
I allow myself to be fretted by her fidgety ways, instead of concentrating on her good qualities. Hilda
’
s type is the salt of the
earth.
”

But it was not long before her new resolution to get on more happily with her colleague was put to a
severe test. Round about five o
’
clock, a bare half
hour after Hilda
’
s return, Geoffrey came knocking at the back door, and striding into the big cosy kitchen where since it was raining, they had all gathered for tea demanded, with a delighted grin, whether anyone present knew anything about
“
a certain greenhouse
”
of his.

Shrieks of mirth from the children, and broad smiles from Matron and Catherine, greeted his query. Only Hilda looked bewildered, and Catherine found herself wishing then, with a sudden sinking of the heart, that she
had told her of the episode immediately on her arrival. She had fully intended to do so; it had only been the bustle of getting the children in from the garden, and preparing tea, that had put the matter out of her head.

Geoffrey did not at once, however, pursue the subject. He looked across apologetically at Hilda, and said with real regret;
“
I
’
m very sorry I couldn
’
t meet you at Great Garsford and bring you out. I was miles away in the other direction this afternoon.

“
Please don
’
t apologize.
”
Hilda spoke with something of an effort.
“
It would be ridiculous if we began to look upon you as our chauffeur. You do far too much for us already.
”

“
That
’
s what we thought, Miss Dewney,
”
Winnie exclaimed, her face radiant. And turning to Geoffrey she went on gaily:
“
Are you pleased with our handiwork? Miss
Cat was terribly severe with us, insisting we put the paint on in nice even strokes, but I
’
m afraid there were a few splashes and splodges that weren
’
t intended.
”

“
Especially on our faces,
”
Ruth giggled.
“
We met Mr. Playdle when we were creeping and crawling home, and when he saw a great blob of green paint
right in the middle of my nose, he said
—”

“
Perhaps someone will tell me what you
’
re all talking about,
”
Hilda interrupted, patting the plump back of a toddler who had let a crumb go down the wrong way.

“
Miss Cat took four of us down to paint one of Mr. Barbin
’
s greenhouses,
”
Ruth chanted, bobbing up and down, as though she had been eight, instead of a great girl of twelve.

“
Nicola and I were crazy to go,
”
Maureen chimed in,
“
but we weren
’
t old enough. I do love surprises.
”

“
I loved this surprise all
r
ight,
”
Geoffrey observed heartily, his eyes twinkling.
“
I shouldn
’
t think anyone else in the country has a greenhouse done up in such a tasty color scheme.
”

“
It
’
s good paint, anyway,
”
Matron told him, smiling.
“
I can
’
t testify to the workmanship—though I gather Miss Emberley was a highly conscientious foreman. But the will was there, I know.
”

Geoffrey continued to beam.
“
The job
’
s been done extraordinarily well,
”
he asserted.
“
I shan
’
t have to worry any more about rotting woodwork, however much rain we get. A
ll
I want now is a large cup of tea in which to quench my thirst and toast the kind fairies who came to my rescue.
”

Tea was a hilarious meal. Shy and hesitant at times, with children Geoffrey was perfectly at ease.
He knew most of them by name, and as he chatted away to them, and teased them, Catherine could not but reflect on the sharp difference between him and Andrew in this respect
.
Andrew liked children but he was not immediately at home with them. It required an effort on his part to get on easy terms with them, and to be pitchforked into a crowd like this would have been something of an ordeal.

Occupied with her manifold duties, and with thoughts of Andrew that refused to be banished—thoughts concerning, among other things, that childhood of which he had spoken with such pain—Catherine paid little heed to Hilda during the next few hours.

Just before bedtime, however, when the children were all safely tucked up, and Matron shut away in her office attending to her correspondence, Hilda came up to her, as she gave the porridge a last
-
minute stir, and asked her curtly if she could speak to her for a minute.

Catherine straightened herself, and pushed a straying lock of hair away from her forehead.

“
Of course,
”
she said coolly.
“
What is
it?
”

“
I want to ask you this,
”
Hilda burst
out.
“
Why must you choose the one weekend when I
’
m away to take the children over to paint Geoffrey
’
s greenhouse? What
’
s the great idea?
”

Catherine looked at her steadily.
“
He told us he hadn
’
t time to do the painting,
”
she said,
“
although it was an urgent job. And the children, especially Winnie, were so keen to do him a kind action, I took them across and helped them to get on with it.
”

“
In other words, you had a chance to shine, and you took it,
”
was Hilda
’
s tart retort.
“
Don
’
t think I
’
m blind, that
’
s all. You can always achieve sweet smiles when Geoffrey
’
s around—and they
’
re evidently not lost on him.
”

“
You
’
re talking absolute nonsense,
”
Catherine began,
u
tterly taken aback by this assault.

Hilda gave a
short laugh.
“
Before you came there would have been no question of Geoffrey
’
s not turning up at the station to drive me home,
”
she said,
“
I can tell you that much.
”
And with a toss of her red head, she stalked angrily away, indignation in every line of her trim figure.

CHAPTER
NINE

A sure i
nstinct told Catherine that she would do no good by trying to argue with Hilda over this question of Geoffrey. The wiser course would be to say nothing, but to demonstrate by cool and dignified behavior that she looked upon Geoffrey in no other light than as a pleasant acquaintance, and a kind and generous friend to the children.

She was, none the less, genuinely startled by Hilda
’
s insinuation. Her lack of success with men, so sharply underlined by the triumphs of her dashing and confident elder sister, had made her long ago decide that marriage and motherhood would never be her portion: that certainty, indeed, was one of her reasons for taking up the career of foster-mother. If she was never to have children of her own, she need at least not waste the treasures of affection she knew herself to possess: she could, unchecked, lavish her warm, maternal feeling on little ones who craved for
“
mothering
”
as plants craved for sunshine.

Now it seemed that this view of herself as a born spinster, who could never hope to win a man
’
s love, was not necessarily shared by everyone around her, as had been the case at Hilliton. In the eyes of the people she was meeting now, in the course of her daily work, she was an ordinarily attractive girl, as likely to make men friends, and find a husband, as anyone else.

What flustered her far more than the astonishing fact of Hilda
’
s jealousy was the sense of unrest which Andrew gave her nowadays, whenever they met. Hitherto she had been able to tell herself proudly that if no man had sought her out, no man, on the other hand, had troubled her peace. That was something she could no longer say with any truth.

She was not in love with Andrew, or anything foolish like that. But
the fact had to be admitted that the very sight of his coppery head and broad
-
shouldered figure in the far distance, the least sound of his deep voice, disturbed her; and in his actual presence, the singularly sweet expression with which he sometimes smiled down at her—when teasing her a little, perhaps—made her heart-beats quicken in the most disconcerting way.

“
How amused he would be if he knew the effect that particular smile of his has o
n
me,
”
she thought with shame when, passing her
in his
car one afternoon, he had given a cheerful wave and rushed on— leaving her with racing pulses, and a ridiculous, wholly unwarranted sense of disappointment.
“
What a fool he would think me if he guessed that just because he had sometimes shown me a little friendliness, a little kindness, simply in my r
o
le of foster
-
mother, I expected him to stop his car as a matter of course and speak to me.
”

And
o
n the heels of that reflection came another, even more wounding:
“
He would have stopped for Beryl Osworth, but then she
’
s a real friend. He knows nothing of me except in connection with my work here—and will never wish to know anything, in all probability.
”

But however hard she found it to keep secret the queer attraction she felt for Andrew, she evidently succeeded, for Hilda
’
s resentment, though silent, continued. Catherine was scrupulously careful to give her no fresh ground for suspicion, but jealousy needs little food to nourish it, and she was sometimes painfully aware that Hilda was reading into the most innocent remarks and actions meanings which in other circumstances would not have occurred to her.

Geoffrey, who had, Catherine was sure, no idea of the bee which had found a home in Hilda
’
s bonnet, was at first puzzled, then annoyed by Hilda
’
s coolness towards him. She had been vexed with him in the past, occasionally—snapping his head off and then apologizing for her quick temper; but there had been something friendly even in her quarrelsomeness.

Now, however, she treated him with a cold and impersonal politeness which, in his simplicity, he could only interpret as a desire to
“
freeze him off.
”
And. since he was far too independent to have any notion of intruding where he was clearly not wanted, he, too, took refuge in offended dignity—pointedly asking for Matron, when making arrangements for deliveries of fruit and vegetables, or for Catherine, when Matron was not available.

The more Catherine puzzled over the matter, the more certain did she feel that the affair of the greenhouse, and of Geoffrey
’
s failure to meet Hilda at the station, were not the primary causes of the other girl
’
s jealousy. It had been growing for a long time; and though she had doubtless tried to forget his tactless words to her over Andrew
’
s broken fence, the fact that he had sided against her, had never ceased entirely to rankle.

To do her justice, Hilda was scrupulously careful not to allow her annoyance to affect her work in any way. After that one flare-up her ma
n
ner to Catherine, though lacking warmth, was irreproachable, and she seemed, keenly anxious that the children should guess nothing of the tension which existed beneath the surface.

It was probably for this reason that Matron whose serenely smiling eyes missed little of what went on at the Home, made no comment on the situation. She took one step, however, which eased matters a little. Knowing that Hilda was at her best with toddlers, who took more kindly to strict routine than the older children, she arranged that for the rest of the term she should work chiefly with the tinies, leaving the care of the school children to herself and Catherine, a sound scheme which resulted in less friction all round, since Hilda and Catherine were no longer brought into constant contact, and were free, to some extent, to go their own ways.

Late summer merged into early autumn, and the great business of harvesting went on. With the hedges covered with ripe berries, the older children were no longer content to spend their free time in the garden, but roamed the fields, bringing home blackberries, to be transformed in. Matron
’
s gleaming preserving pans into bramble jelly for winter use, and rose-hips for the good-natured Geoffrey to take in to the Government centre at Great Garsford as their contribution towards the nation
’
s store of vitamins.

Usually the children went off by themselves on these expeditions, in small parties which included their special school friends. But one glorious day, having discovered by the size of Catherine
’
s post that it was her birthday, they got together after breakfast in an excited group, and then issued an invitation to her to come on a picnic with them, by way of celebration.

“
We want it to be our show entirely,
”
Ruth declared, trying hard to remember the dignity required of her now that, Winnie having left, she was the oldest girl in the Home.
“
You and Matron, and Miss Dewney, haven
’
t to bother one bit about eats and drinks. We
’
re seeing to all that.
”

“
If we had known beforehand we could have made a birthday cake.
”
Nicola, who had spent a very happy birthday at Garsford House, spoke a trifle reproachfully.

“
Or we
c
ould have saved up and taken you for a lovely long bus ride,
”
Maureen put in.
“
We
’
ve only enough pocket-money now for lemonade and buns.
”

Ruth, shocked at these financial disclosures, frowned at Maureen who, less easily upset now by
other people
’
s displeasure, and unaware of having been tactless, added hastily:
“
And
doughnuts!
”

“
Well, I call that a lovely idea!
”
Catherine was quick to avert the impending storm, heralded by loud
“
S-sh
”
-es to Maureen.
“
Now don
’
t any of you tell me any more about it—except the time I
’
m to be ready to start. It will be the first birthday treat I
’
ve had for years, and I feel as excited as anything.
”

She lost no time, however, in seeking out Matron who, though deeply involved with the kitchen flues, was ready, as usual, to switch her attention over to other domestic matters.

“
The children want to spend their own pocket-money on giving me a picnic,
”
she exclaimed, lowering her voice in case sharp young ears should catch
what she was saying.
“
I don
’
t want to hurt their feelings, but it worries me to think of their poor little store of coppers going into lemonade and cake for my benefit. Is there anything we can do— tactfully, I mean
—”

“
Certainly not!
”
Matron
’
s tone was crisp, as she laid down her flue brush for a moment, and looked back at Catherine.
“
Don
’
t all their friends at school save up their pocket-money to give their mothers and fathers presents, or treats, on their birthdays? We
’
re all the parents they have, poor darlings; and if we don
’
t let them act the way the other children do, we stamp them immediately as different.
”
And then, turning back to her grimy but satisfying task, she added, over her sturdy shoulder
, “
They know you have had presents from your little niece and nephew! What do you suppose they will feel if they, your foster-children, are allowed to do less for you?
”

The delight which the children took in their mysterious errands to the village shop, and their general excitement over the whole expedition, made Catherine feel the soundness of Matron
’
s outlook.

But when, starting o
u
t, armed with baskets, they led her straight over Andrew
’
s land, she experienced a slight tremor as to the wisdom of allowing them to keep the venue of the picnic a complete secret. Suppose they chose some quite unsuitable place, and once again incurred Andrew
’
s wrath?

And presently, after a considerable tramp, her fears were reinforced. Maureen, who never found it possible to keep a secret, let drop something about
“
nuts,
”
and she realized then that the party was making for a certain spinney famous for its hazel nuts.

Knowing that the spinney was in all probability a preserve for game, and by no means anxious, in any case, to help herself to the Playdle
’
s nuts, Catherine felt extremely perturbed. On an ordinary occasion it would have been easy, to tell the children that the copse was out of bounds to them; but they were so excited, so full of joyous anticipation, she shrank from pouring cold water on their plan.

She felt, however, that a protest was inevitable, when she heard Ruth telling the lively puppy, whom she had been carrying most of the way, that he would soon be able to get down and hunt for rabbits, And she said, to the child, as lightly as she could
:
“
I
’
m afraid we shall have to give that spinney a miss, you know. Mr. Playdle won
’
t appreciate our trespassing there, and disturbing his game.
”

To her surprise, Ruth continued to smile brightly. As for the other children, their hilarity only increased, reaching, a
crescendo when Andrew himself, of all people, suddenly came out of the copse, and made his leisurely way towards them.

“
What
does
all this mean?
”
Catherine, her heart beating uncomfortably fast, looked in bewilderment at Ruth.

“
Oh, it
’
s all right,
”
the child told her gaily.
“
Matron said that if we wanted to go after hazel nuts on Mr. Playdle
’
s land we must get his permission. So
I popped across to the Manor; and as he said
“
Yes
,”
I asked him, as a lovely surprise for you, to come to your birthday party, too.
”