Who Needs Mr Willoughby?. Katie Oliver
“You might try the Endwhistle Café,” he called after her. “I hear they’re hiring waitresses.”
She whirled around and glared at him. “Is that right? And do you ever eat there, Dr Brandon? At the Endwhistle Café?”
“On occasion.”
“Good. Then I might just take your advice. I’ll get a job as a waitress. It’ll give me the perfect excuse to dump a pot of hot coffee right in your smug, sexist lap!”
She stormed out, aware as she did of his laughter ringing out behind her.
Too furious and upset to go back to Barton Park, Marianne sat in the car for a moment to have a cry and tried to pull herself together. She searched in the glove compartment until she found a crumpled tissue and blew her nose.
She hated Matthew Brandon. Hated him. He obviously thought she was some kind of spoiled rich girl who’d never worked a day in her life and had no need of a job. He was the rudest, most unreasonable man she’d ever had the misfortune to know. Heartless, too. Not to mention self-centred, ill mannered, and avaricious –
There was a tap on her window. With a gasp of fright, Marianne looked up to see the veterinarian standing there. He leaned down until his face was on a level with hers.
She swiped at the black streaks of mascara under her eyes and rolled her window down. “What is it?” she snapped.
“Sorry to startle you,” he said, “but I just had a thought.”
“Is that right? What thought was that? Did you figure out a way to charge me for wasting your time? Or breathing the air? Or is there a parking fee I wasn’t aware of?”
“No. Although charging for parking’s not a bad idea.” He ran a hand through his already rumpled dark hair. “My receptionist’s leaving in two weeks, going off to Hull. Her sister’s just had a baby and Lynn’s staying with her for the rest of the summer.”
Marianne was silent. She wouldn’t give in to even the tiniest, teeniest flicker of hope, she wouldn’t. Not this time.
He paused. “I’ve got a girl in mind to take her place.”
“I just bet you do,” she snapped, picturing a busty blonde in a short skirt with a blouse open to her navel.
“She hasn’t much experience,” he went on, “but I reckon she can answer phones and schedule appointments easily enough.”
“No doubt.” Why was he telling her this? She didn’t want to hear it.
“I expect she might take issue with working reception instead of assisting in the surgery, though.”
“Well if you ask me, she sounds like a pillock,” Marianne sniffed, and blew her nose. “How can she expect to help in the surgery if she hasn’t the proper experience?”
“Exactly my thoughts.” He regarded her without expression. “I’m glad we’re finally on the same page, Miss Holland.”
Confusion, surprise, and hope warred on her face as she stared at him. His eyes, she noted distractedly, were an odd sort of silvery-grey. “We…we are? But – you don’t mean –?”
“I mean,” he said, his eyes steady on hers, “you can have Lynn’s job for the summer. If you want it,” he added. “And if you don’t object to answering phones, mopping up dog urine, and filling out an endless lot of forms. Otherwise –” he straightened “I’ll give the job to someone else. I’ve a long waiting list of qualified applicants.”
“I’m sure you do.” Marianne scrambled out of the car and stood facing him. “I’d be very happy to have the job,” she said, her eyes shining. “Extremely happy. Ecstatic. Thank you, Dr Brandon. So much.”
He took her hand in a firm grip. “Welcome aboard, Miss Holland. You can start next week and we’ll see how it goes. Lynn can show you the ropes before she leaves.”
“Is Maddie all right?” she asked suddenly. “Lynn told me all about her yesterday, that you suspected rat poisoning. Poor dog… Did she make it through?”
“She did. It was touch and go for a bit, but she pulled through the surgery with flying colours. She’s on a course of vitamin K to ensure her blood clots properly. Her family’s overjoyed.” He eyed Marianne. “I’m sure they’d appreciate your concern.”
“I love animals. I really do. You won’t regret hiring me, Dr Brandon, I promise,” she called out after him as he turned to go.
He glanced back at her. “Too late. I already do,” he retorted, and returned to the clinic.
***
When Marianne returned to Barton Park, a removal van stood near the front steps and a taxi was just leaving.
With a racing heart she parked the Peugeot and all but flew out of the car, rushing up the steps and through the opened front door.
“Mum!” she cried out. “Elinor!”
She flung herself, laughing and crying all at once, into their arms. There was a flurry of hugging, exclaiming, and more than a few hastily wiped-away tears before Mrs Holland drew back to inspect her youngest daughter. “You’re looking very well, I must say. Northumberland agrees with you.”
“You won’t believe half the things I’ve been through since I got here,” Marianne told her. “I’ll tell you both all about it over lunch. Why did you take a taxi?”
“Because someone had the car, that’s why,” Mrs Fenwick retorted. “Bertie couldn’t go and fetch them from the train station.”
“Oh.” Marianne turned to her mother in dismay. “I’m sorry. That must’ve cost a fortune.”
“It did, but we managed, and we got here all the same. The housekeeper tells us you had your job interview today?”
“Yes, that’s why I had to borrow the car. It was meant to be yesterday, but Dr Brandon was on an emergency call and couldn’t see me.”
“And did you get the job?” Mrs Holland asked.
“I did.”
Elinor let out a gasp and hugged her sister. “Well done, you. That’s wonderful news.” She drew back and glanced around the entrance hall. “Where’s Lady Violet? Is she not here?”
“She’s gone to Edinburgh to stay with a poorly friend. She won’t be back for at least another week.”
“She’s a trusting woman,” her sister observed with a smirk, “to leave you alone to your own devices in her house.”
“I’ve been the model of good behaviour, I’ll have you know,” Marianne retorted, and glanced over at the housekeeper. “Haven’t I, Mrs Fenwick?”
“I won’t answer that as it might incriminate me,” she said, and turned away. “Now if you’d care to follow Bertie upstairs, ladies, he’ll take your luggage up and show you to your rooms. When you’re settled, you can all come back downstairs and have yourselves a lovely lunch.”
***
The dining room rang with chatter as Marianne and her mother and sister took their places at the table to catch up on all of the latest news.
“So tell us, what have we missed since you arrived here at Barton Park?” Mrs Holland asked.
“Yes, do please bring us up to speed, Mari,” Elinor agreed. “What’s happened since you left Norland?”
“Not much, really,” Marianne said airily as she helped herself to one of Mrs Fenwick’s pasties. “Only, Lady Violet’s car was stolen out from under me, and I met the most