A Valentine for Daisy. Betty Neels
of him. That was until he remarked, as the last of the lemonade was being drunk, ‘I hope Meg has got you on a long lease.’
She gave him a puzzled look. ‘A long lease…?’
‘It would seem to me that you have all the makings of a family nanny, handed down from one generation to another.’
Daisy, a mild-tempered girl, choked back rage. ‘I have no intention of being anything of the sort.’ Her pleasant voice held a decidedly acid note.
‘No? Planning to get married?’
‘No, and if I may say so, Dr Seymour, I must remind you that it’s none of your business.’
‘No, no, of course it isn’t; put it down to idle curiosity.’
Josh, for nearly four years old, was very bright. ‘You’re not married either, Uncle Val; I know ’cos Mummy said it was high time and it was time you thought about it.’
His uncle ate a last sandwich. ‘Mummy’s quite right; I must think about it.’
Daisy began to collect up the remains of their meal. ‘Everyone carry something,’ ordered the doctor, ‘and no dropping it on the way to the kitchen. What happens next?’ He looked at Daisy.
‘They rest for an hour—I read to them.’
‘Oh, good. I could do with a nap myself. We can all fit into the hammock easily enough—not you, of course, Daisy. What gem of literature are you reading at the moment?’
‘Grimm’s fairy-tales; they choose a different story each day.’
She wasn’t sure how to reply to the doctor’s remarks; she suspected that he was making fun of her, not unkindly but perhaps to amuse himself. Well, she had no intention of letting him annoy her. ‘Perhaps you would like to choose?’ she asked him as, the picnic cleared away, they crossed the lawn to where the hammock stood under the shade of the trees.
He arranged a padded chair for her before lying back in the hammock with the twins crushed on either side of him. ‘“Faithful John”,’ he told her promptly.
She opened the book. ‘It’s rather long,’ she said doubtfully.
‘I dare say we shall all be asleep long before you’ve finished.’
He closed his eyes and the children lay quietly; there was nothing for it but to begin.
He had been right; Josh dropped off first and then Katie, and since he hadn’t opened his eyes she supposed that the doctor had gone to sleep too. She closed the book on its bookmark, kicked off her sandals and sat back against the cushions. They might sleep for half an hour and she had plenty to occupy her thoughts.
Dr Seymour opened one eye. He said very softly, ‘You don’t like me very much, do you, Daisy?’
She was taken by surprise, but Daisy being Daisy she gave his remark thoughtful consideration. Presently she said, ‘I don’t know anything about you, Dr Seymour.’
‘An indisputable fact. You haven’t answered my question.’
‘Yes, I have—I don’t know you well enough to know, do I?’
‘No? Personally, I know if I like or dislike someone the moment I set eyes on them.’
He would have disliked her on sight, she reflected, remembering the cold stare at the traffic-lights in Wilton and the short shrift he had given her, almost knocking her off her bike. She said primly, ‘Well, we’re all different, aren’t we?’
The mocking look he gave her sent the colour into her cheeks. The doctor, watching her lazily, decided that she wasn’t as plain as he had thought.
The twins woke up presently and they played ball until their mother came back. The twins fell upon her with shrieks of delight, both talking at once. ‘Val—how lovely to see you—I wanted to talk to you…’ Seeing Daisy, she turned to her. ‘Do go home, dear, you must be exhausted—I know I am after several hours of these two.’ She unwound her children’s arms from around her neck. ‘Take Daisy to the gate, darlings, and then go to the kitchen and ask Mrs Betts if she would make a pot of tea for me.’
Daisy got to her feet, reflecting that Lady Thorley’s airy dismissal had been both friendly and expected; she was the daily mother’s help and was treated with more consideration than she had ever had with Mrs Gower-Jones. All the same, she wished that Dr Seymour hadn’t been there.
Her goodnight was quietly said. ‘I’ll be here at half-past eight, Lady Thorley,’ and she left them without further ado, taking the twins with her.
The doctor watched her go. ‘What do you want to tell me, Meg?’ he asked.
‘Hugh phoned—such news—the man at the Hague is ill—jaundice or something—and he’s to replace him until he’s fit again. Hugh says there’s a lovely flat we can have and he wants us to go there with him—he’ll be home this evening but I wanted to ask your advice about the twins. I’ll go with Hugh, of course, but what about them? I did wonder if they had better stay here with Daisy—that is if she would agree to come…’
‘Why not take the children with you and Daisy as well?’
‘Well, that would be marvellous—she’s so good with them and they like her, but she might not want to come…’
‘Why not ask her and find out? What does Hugh say?’
‘He told me I could do whatever I thought was best as long as it won’t upset the twins—going to live somewhere else—foreign too…’
‘My dear girl, Holland is hardly darkest Africa, and it’s only an hour away by plane.’ He stood up. ‘I must go back to town. You’re quite satisfied with Daisy?’
‘Oh, yes. How clever of you to tell me about her, Val. She’s so sensible and kind—it’s hard to find girls like her. Plain, of course—such a pity for she’d make a splendid wife.’ She walked round the house to where his car was parked before the door. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t find the time to visit us while we’re at the Hague?’
‘Very likely—I’m lecturing at Leiden Medical School and there’s a seminar for paediatricians in Utrecht—I’m not sure of the dates.’ Lady Thorley tiptoed to kiss his cheek.
‘Lovely. I’ll talk to Daisy—better still I’ll get Hugh to do that.’
‘Why not? When does he go?’
‘Two weeks—at least, he’s to go as soon as possible; he thought it would take me two weeks to pack up and so on.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, what shall I do about Boots? We can’t leave him here just with Mrs Betts…’
‘I’ll have him.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I must go, my dear—give me a ring when you have things settled.’
Daisy, unaware of the future being mapped out for her, cycled home and thought about Dr Seymour. She wasn’t sure if she liked him but she was fair enough to admit that that was because he was a difficult man to get to know. He was splendid with the children, probably he was an excellent paediatrician, but he was arrogant and, she suspected, used to having his own way. Moreover, he had this nasty habit of mocking her…
She was surprised to find Sir Hugh at home when she reached Steeple Langford the next morning. He was still young but he had a serious manner which made him seem older.
‘If we might talk?’ he suggested, coming to the nursery where the twins were running riot with the Plasticine under Daisy’s tolerant eye.
Daisy’s heart sank. He had come to tell her she was no longer needed, a governess had been found, and she was mentally putting her name down at several agencies in Salisbury when he went on. ‘I’m about to be posted to Den Haag for a time; we wondered if you would consider coming with us to look after the children? I’m not sure for how long; I’m to fill