Patricia Wentworth - The Alington Inheritance

“There’s a lovely place down there just behind those trees! Did you think I’d run away?”

It was exactly what he had thought, but he wasn’t going to say so. She laughed and said,

“I suppose you did!”

Then she came up to the car and got in.

“I had such a lovely sleep,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

He didn’t know exactly what she was thanking him for. He said so.

“What for?”

“Oh, everything. Are we near your aunt’s now?”

“Yes, quite near. If you don’t mind, I’ll go in first and explain you.”

“Will she mind?”

“Not when I’ve explained. You leave it to me.”

They drove in silence for a time. There was a long hill. Then they turned and ran into a village street which looked as if it were asleep.

“Half past six,” he said. “And very nice, too.”

“Is this it?”

He nodded.

“Third house on the left. She’s got a wonderful garden-wait till I get my key.”

He pulled up at a wicket gate. There was a cottage garden in front with all the late-blooming things in it. There were Michaelmas daisies, and sunflowers, and phloxes, and marigolds-lots and lots of different sorts of them. Jenny gazed entranced at the gaiden.

“She’s got a green thumb-everything grows for her,” said Richard. He came round and opened her door. “Be quick and I’ll get you in before Mrs. Merridew sees you.”

Jenny stopped with her foot on the step.

“Why?”

“Because she makes a mountain out of a molehill,” he said, but he laughed as he said it.

He took Jenny’s hand as he spoke, and they ran, together up to the little porch which was covered with purple clematis. He bent to put the key in the door, and suddenly he had the feeling that he was bringing her home.

Jenny had a feeling too. It wasn’t the same as his. She felt frightened in spite of all those welcoming flowers. Suppose Richard’s aunt didn’t like her. “Oh, she must, she must. Why should she?” She had a sudden dreadful feeling of what it would be like to be rejected by Richard’s aunt. She was young and inexperienced, but she did know that the arrival at half past six in the morning of a nephew whom you loved very much with a girl whom you didn’t love at all because you didn’t know her was not the thing you could expect an aunt to be pleased about.

The door opened, and they came into a passage which seemed dark, Richard leading the way as if it was his house. She supposed in a way it was-it was his home. There was a narrow passage and the stairs going up. He opened a door, and there was a dark room with the curtains drawn against the light that was so bright outside.

“Can you see?” he said, and took her hand.

Jenny found herself holding it tight. She was afraid. She was horribly afraid. Richard felt the hand which he held quiver in his. The quivering did something to him. He heard himself say, “You’ll be all right here, darling.” Jenny gripped his hand as if she would never let it go. He said “Jenny-” on a moved note, and Jenny looked up at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

“Will she-will she like me?” she said in a whispering voice.

Richard took a hold on himself. What he wanted to do was to take his hand from hers and put both arms round her and hold her close so that she would never be frightened or tremble again. It was madness, he knew that. He had only known her a few hours. He said,

“Jenny, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Caroline’s a lamb-she really is. I’ll go up and tell her about you. You just sit down here and wait. This is a nice chair.”

It was dreadful to have to wait. Jenny let go of his hand and sat down. She heard him go up the stairs, and then she heard two people talking. It took her all she knew to sit there in the dark room and wait. It was the hardest thing she had ever done.

And then there were steps, and behind them others not so quick and light. With her heart beating to suffocation Jenny stood up. There came in a tall woman with a rush of words.

“My dear child-oh gracious, how dark it is in here! Wait a minute and I’ll let in the light! Richard is a fool! Fancy his leaving you in the dark like this! Now just a minute-” She went to the far end of the room and drew back what the light showed to be brightly patterned chintz curtains with an apple-green lining. The garden side of the house came into view very reassuringly. There were apple trees well set with fruit, and there was a herbaceous border full of flowers. There was a blue sky and sunshine.

The tall figure whisked round and came back. She was half a head taller than Jenny and she had grey hair. Those were the first two things that Jenny saw about her. The grey hair curled vigorously and was tossed into untidy waves. Jenny saw that, and there was something very reassuring about it. Even at half past six in the morning no one had ever seen Mrs. Forbes’ hair untidy. Caroline Danesworth had obviously jumped straight out of bed and only waited to put on a dressing-gown. The dressing-gown was a cheerful shade of blue, and her eyes matched it.

Richard at the open door strayed in and said with an air of pride,

“Jenny, this is Caroline.”

“Who else would it be?” said Caroline. “If you want to be useful, Richard, you go and put on a kettle for tea. And there are biscuits on the shelf in the blue biscuit-tin. Now shoo-get along! We don’t want you here.”

When he was out of the room, she shut the door and turned back to Jenny, who stood waiting. She had a sense of belonging to no one and being most utterly alone. And then in a moment it was all gone. Caroline’s eyes smiled at her and Caroline’s hands took her cold ones. “My dear child, what is it?” she said, and Jenny began to cry. Caroline being what she was, she could have done nothing more endearing. As the tears ran down her face she felt Caroline’s arms round her.

“My dear! Now don’t try and stop it. It’s much better to cry it all away. You’re quite, quite safe here. I’ll look after you, and so will Richard. There’s nothing to cry about-nothing at all. But you just cry all you want to and get rid of it.”

It is really very difficult to go on crying when you are urged to go on. Jenny stopped half way through a sob.

“I’m all right now,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Well, come and sit down. I expect you want something to eat. We’ll all have some tea, and then we shall feel better. Richard is quite good at making tea.”

They sat on a green sofa and Jenny looked out at the garden. It looked happy and peaceful with the early morning sun upon it. She said,

“It is very good of you to be so nice to me. I don’t know what Richard has told you.”

Caroline considered. Her face was soft and kind. Her eyes were very blue and very soft.

“He said he hadn’t been to Alington House. He has always wanted to go there to see it, and the pictures and everything. But of course he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could go there in the middle of the night, though really when you come to think of it men are quite inexplicable. But anyhow he said he meant to get near the place and sleep in his car until the nearest pub would be open and he could get some breakfast. And then, I suppose, he thought he’d be welcome! On a Sunday morning!”

It was Sunday. It seemed such a long, long time since Saturday afternoon.

Caroline went on talking.

“Then, he says, you started up out of nowhere and stood in the middle of the road with your arms out to stop the car.”

Jenny felt that she had to explain.

“I felt desperate. The bag wasn’t heavy to start with, but it seemed to be getting heavier and heavier. I knew that if I didn’t get a lift I shouldn’t be able to get far enough not to be caught. I knew they would try to catch me. Has he told you who I am?”