Year’s Happy Ending Page 7

  She hadn’t. The professor came in from the garden with Dee draped tearfully over one shoulder just as Deborah came into the room.

  ‘Aren’t you a bit late, Nanny?’ asked Mrs Burns pleasantly. ‘Did you get Mother into bed and see to her supper?’

  The professor spoke before she could. ‘Do I understand that Deborah has fed the twins, put them to bed, put Mother to bed too and now has to feed Dee and get her into bed as well? Isn’t that a bit much, even for a highly trained nanny, my dear?’

  ‘But you’re so capable, aren’t you, Nanny? And you’ve had all day without any of us…’

  The professor shook his head at her. ‘Deborah’s been up half the night with Dee—she’s cut a tooth, and I’ll wager she’s had a long hard day of it.’

  Deborah stood between them, feeling a fool. She snapped: ‘I’m perfectly all right, Professor.’ And whisked Dee away from him and out of the room, leaving him laughing softly and Mrs Burns bewildered. ‘She’s a girl in a thousand,’ she observed, ‘but it is her job and I pay her well.’

  The professor stopped laughing. ‘And make the fullest use of her, just as you do of Bill and me and anyone else who happens to be around. Look, love, let her have the day off tomorrow—heaven knows she’s earned it. I’ve got to go back to Lagos, I’ll be happy to give her a lift there and back.’

  Mrs Burns gave him a quick look. ‘What a splendid idea—do you suppose Eleanor would stay here with us? She’s so marvellous with the twins—we could go on the beach…’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be delighted.’ She watched him stroll away, out into the garden. Mrs Burns broached the subject of a day off during dinner: ‘And as Gideon has to go into Lagos tomorrow he can give you a lift.’

  Deborah opened her mouth to refuse and then closed it again when she saw the faint, knowing smile on the professor’s lips. ‘Thank you,’ she agreed sedately, ‘that would be very convenient, I should like to explore the town and do some shopping—presents you know.’

  ’embroidery and pottery,’ said Mrs Burns rather vaguely, ‘the shops shut in the afternoon, but I daresay you’ll find something to do…’

  She smiled kindly at Deborah; she was a dear girl and so good with the children, and she had quite forgotten that until Gideon had mentioned it she had overlooked the fact that Deborah, with the exception of the brief hour or so after tea, had had no time to herself. She added: ‘You go and enjoy yourself Nanny, I’ll be able to manage—Bill’s here to help and Eleanor…’

  They left directly after breakfast while it was still cool. Deborah wore a sundress with a little jacket and had her swim suit packed in the roomy straw bag Mrs Burns had lent her. She had rammed her sun hat on top of her piled up hair and put on her sun glasses, then spent a few moments regretfully examining her freckles which seemed worse than ever. The rest of her was nicely tanned, as the professor pointed out to her as they drove off. ‘I like the freckles too,’ he added with casual friendliness. He talked easily as they drove, pointing out various things which might interest her but never once mentioning the children or her work so that after a while Deborah began to feel that she too was on holiday without a care in the world—no teething baby, no rumbustious twins; she sniffed the warm air and relaxed.

  The professor slowed down as they reached the town, pointing out the fish market, the fort and the bus station on the boulevard by the river. When he stopped at a car park Deborah asked: ‘Shall I meet you here when you are going back, or shall I catch a bus?’

  ‘Let’s talk about that over coffee,’ he invited, ‘but first we’ll go to the bank, if you don’t mind—they close at noon and only open for a couple of hours in the afternoon.’

  The town was still fairly full with tourists and the narrow streets were crowded. Once the business at the bank was attended to he then turned up a narrow lane and ushered her into a shop selling pottery and embroidery, but he didn’t stop there going on, down a passage into a coffee shop.

  Over their coffee she said again: ‘If you’d tell me what bus to catch?’

  He leaned back in the narrow cane chair which creaked abominably.

  ‘Oh, I’m having a day off too, I was hoping we might do some sightseeing and I’ve some things to buy—I could do with your advice.’ He watched her face. ‘If you don’t care for the idea, don’t mind saying so.’

  She stared at him across the small table. ‘Won’t I bore you?’

  ‘No.’ He beckoned the waiter for more coffee. ‘Shall we do the shopping first and put it in the car? We can lunch at one of the local restaurants, they are very simple but the food is usually good. Everything shuts until four o’clock so we could drive to Rocha, it’s not far, and have a swim.’

  ‘That sounds heavenly if you are sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. Finished? You’d better use the loo here, some of them are a bit primitive, but Eleanor’s given this one the okay.’

  Deborah went meekly and presently found him in the pottery shop. ‘The trouble is,’ he observed, ‘these things tend to break on the way home. I want something for my housekeeper. What do you suggest?’

  Deborah started to poke round the embroidery. ‘Is she house proud?’ she wanted to know.

  ‘Oh God, yes.’

  ‘This then,’ decided Deborah, picking out an exquisitely embroidered teacloth. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous? I think I’ll have one for Mother.’

  They wandered out to the street, stopping to look in shop windows while the professor patiently worked out the prices into pounds and pence. After an hour, laden now with odds and ends which had caught her fancy, they sat down in the tiny square in the centre of the town to drink orange juice before strolling back to the car. Empty handed once more, they went back into the town and went into a small rather bare restaurant in one of the main streets.

  ‘You’ve been here before, of course,’ said Deborah. ‘I expect you know all the restaurants and cafés.’

  ‘Most of them. This one’s plain but the food’s good and the fish is excellent. What about grilled sea bream and a salad? And Vinho Verde to go with it?’

  They sat idly, not talking much but at ease with each other, drinking their wine and watching their lunch being cooked at the back of the restaurant.

  ‘You may find dessert rather sweet—I should have an ice,’ counselled the professor. ‘I shall have cabeiro—that’s goat’s milk cheese.’

  It was hot when they went into the street again and got into the car to drive the short distance to Rocha.

  ‘Just look at that beach!’ exclaimed Deborah as they drove slowly along the boulevard. It wasn’t very wide nor very long, but there were shops facing the sea, smart boutiques and coffee shops and newspaper kiosks.

  The professor turned the car into the car park behind a large hotel built on the very edge of the beach then took Deborah’s hand and led her inside.

  ‘Sit there while I have a word,’ he said and went over to the desk. He came back very shortly with two keys. ‘There are changing rooms at the bottom of the steps leading to the beach. Here’s your key—let the desk have it before we go on to the beach, now stay here while I fetch our things.’

  The beach wasn’t crowded just nicely filled and the water was warm and very clear. Deborah, free from keeping an eye on the children, swam happily out to sea only vaguely aware that the professor was beside her. Presently she turned on to her back and found him idling close by.

  ‘It must be very hot in the summer,’ she observed, her eyes closed.

  ‘Very—this is the best time of the year—and spring, of course, but it’s not quite as warm.’ He rolled over. ‘Race you back?’

  He allowed her to win and they lay on the sand under a canvas awning, presently Deborah went to sleep. When she woke up the professor was sitting beside her, watching her. She wondered why he looked so intent, as though he was trying to decide something and then forgot all about it when he suggested that they should have another swim before tea.

  They sat on the verandah an
d drank a surprisingly English tea, and ate little, very sweet cakes, then walked along the wide sand in the late afternoon cool.

  ‘Oughtn’t I to be going back?’ asked Deborah.

  ‘Only if you would like to, you’re not expected. I said we’d be back around midnight.’

  ‘Midnight?’ She turned surprised green eyes on his bland face.

  ‘They dine late here you know. We could go back now and sit over a drink.’

  She stood still facing him. ‘You spent the whole day taking me around. I’m most grateful but there was no need—I’m quite used to getting along on my own, and I expect you’ve done all this before.’

  ‘I’m not going to make the obvious answer to that. Just reflect that I could have left you at the car park this morning.’ He took her arm. ‘I need a drink.’

  Sitting outside a wine bar on the boulevard he asked suddenly ‘What do you think of Eleanor?’

  ‘Nice,’ said Deborah promptly. ‘Shy at first but so—so loving if you know what I mean. Is she like her mother?’

  She wished she hadn’t said that. The professor’s face froze into an inscrutable mask. ‘No.’ She hoped that he would say something else, but he didn’t so she went on hurriedly: ‘Oh, well anyway—she’s a darling. The twins adore her and she’s good company—rather grown up for ten years old.’

  ‘That is probably because she has no mother; Miss Timmis is elderly—more like a kindly aunt, my housekeeper is no longer in her first youth either, and nor for that matter am I. Which is perhaps the reason why Eleanor is less of a child than she should be.’

  ‘But she is quite happy?’

  ‘She could be happier—it’s rather on my conscience. That’s why we came here with Peggy and Bill and the children—they’re a family.’

  He sounded bitter and she wanted to say something sympathetic, but she had no chance for he went on in his usual casual way: ‘Let’s stroll back to the hotel and have dinner.’

  The meal was excellent and very leisurely, so it was well after ten o’clock by the time they got back into the car. The evening had darkened and the sea glittered under a full moon. A night for romance, thought Deborah sleepily and wished, just for a moment, that she was sitting beside some young man who was hopelessly in love with her, with the promise of a delightful future and undying devotion before her… She gasped when the professor said silkily: ‘The night’s wasted on us, isn’t it? It’s a night for lovers; not a not-so-young widower and a dedicated nanny!’

  ‘I am not dedicated!’ declared Deborah quickly, her voice tart.

  ‘There’s hope for me yet,’ said the professor, the silk back in his voice.

  ‘Don’t spoil my lovely day making silly jokes.’

  He shot the car up the drive and stopped silently before the villa. Before he got out he said gently: ‘I’m sorry, Debby. It was a lovely day—I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, thank you for your company.’

  She got out and stood beside him. ‘I enjoyed it too, thank you for taking me.’ She smiled up at him and he swept her close and kissed her gently but thoroughly too. She stared at him in utter surprise before she ran indoors.

  The twins, refreshed by a sound night’s sleep, welcomed her enthusiastically when she got up to feed Dee at six o’clock. They climbed into her bed and sat telling her in a chorus of yesterday’s pleasure. She responded suitably, saw to Dee’s comfort then washed and dressed before going into the garden.

  Eleanor usually joined them at their early morning games, but there was no sign of her and it wasn’t until they were all sitting at breakfast that Mrs Burns remarked casually that Eleanor and her father had gone off at five o’clock, long before anyone else was stirring, to go fishing. ‘Gideon persuaded one of the local fishermen to let them go with him—they drove into Lagos and planned to go on board there—they won’t be back until this evening. Nanny, we’re going into Portimao before lunch, I must get my hair done. If we’re not back before twelve go ahead and have yours and settle the children for their rest, will you?’

  Deborah hadn’t really expected the Burns and Mrs Beaufort back for lunch and she was quite right, she coaxed the twins into their beds, saw to Dee and went to sit in the garden. It was hot and airless, and although the sky was blue she had the nasty feeling that there would be a storm before long. The sunlight became more and more brassy and the birds stopped singing. She watched the skies darken and pretended not to mind when she heard the first rumble of thunder. She made herself stay where she was until the next rumble, but then her calm deserted her and she scampered for the house. There was no one about; the two girls who came to help every day had long since gone home and Maria went to her own little house down the lane each afternoon and wouldn’t be back until it was time to prepare the evening meal. Deborah peered into the kitchen just to make sure that she had gone; the tea tray was ready on the table but there was no sign of Maria, she hadn’t expected to find her anyway. She went upstairs, flinching at a flash of lightning, and found the children still sound asleep. It would have been nice if they woke up, she thought wistfully, the house seemed very silent and getting darker every minute. She went back downstairs and then tore back up again as there was a vivid flash of lightning and the children woke, screaming with fright, rivalling the thunder and waking Dee.

  Deborah picked up Dee, popped Suzy on to Simon’s bed and sat down on its edge. It was far too warm with the twins wrapped round her as close as they could get and the baby on her lap, but just for the moment it was impossible to budge them; they bellowed at each flash and she could hardly blame them—she would have liked to bellow herself.

  It started to rain, bucketing down, crashing on to the roof, overflowing the gutters, adding to the noise. Deborah gave up trying to speak, for there was no way of making herself heard. The storm was right overhead now, crashing and banging round the house with hardly a pause. She hoped that Mr and Mrs Burns were still in Portimao or had at least taken shelter. Only a madman would drive through in such weather. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about the professor and Eleanor; out at sea the storm would surely be quite terrifying. She worried about it for a few minutes and found that she was worrying just as much about the professor as his daughter, which would never do. She mustn’t allow a pleasant day with him to change her opinion of him; he could turn on the charm, she knew that now, but he could be just as beastly if he felt like it.

  Somewhere close-by a tree crashed down and Suzy screamed, burying her head against Deborah and at the same time she saw the car lights coming up the drive. The Burns, she thought thankfully and then: supposing it wasn’t? Supposing it was someone wanting shelter? Or just someone? She swallowed her fright and listened in vain for sounds other than the storm. The front door bell, and oh lord, she had left the door open when she came in. Surely the Burns would call out as they came into the house? And it couldn’t be the professor and Eleanor because they were being tossed around somewhere at sea.

  She had left the door open when she had come into the children’s room and in the brief pause between the thunder and the lightning she heard steps on the stairs.

  She was so frightened that she could hardly breathe; the storm didn’t matter any more, only the steps drowned now in celestial noise. She had gone very white, clutching the children close to her, not knowing what to do.

  When the professor loomed in the doorway, his clothes plastered to him, water forming pools round his feet, she could only stare speechlessly.

  His hullo was laconic, although his sharp glance had taken in Deborah’s ashy face. He squelched across the floor, picked up the twins and said: ‘Let’s go down to the kitchen, shall we?’ And he waited while she got to her feet with Dee under her arm before shooing her gently downstairs.

  Eleanor was in the kitchen, taking off her wringing wet clothes. She grinned at Deborah over her shoulder and said in an excited voice: ‘Isn’t this simply super? You should have been there Deborah, you’d have loved it!’

  Deborah smiled
with a shaking mouth and felt the professor’s large wet hand on her shoulder, pressing her gently into a chair. ‘I frightened you—very thoughtless of me, I’m sorry. Sit there and we’ll all have a cup of tea. But first of all I’d better get out of these wet things. I’ll take the twins with me, and Eleanor can stay here with you. There’s a towel she can wrap herself in; I’ll bring down her dressing gown.’

  He loomed over Deborah and for once his face was full of concern and kindness, but she hardly noticed; she was busy enough struggling to regain her usual calm. She was almost back to normal, despite several violent thunder claps and the vivid lightning, when he returned clad in slacks and a shirt, carrying Eleanor’s dressing gown and trailed by the twins.

  The electricity had been cut off soon after the storm began but he went through the cupboards until he found an old primus stove and lit it, filled a kettle and got out the tea pot. And all the while he kept up a rumbling monologue about nothing much, making the children laugh while Deborah sat as stiff as a board with fright, clutching Dee and hardly speaking, furious with herself for allowing her feelings to show but quite unable to do anything about it. She avoided the professor’s eye, drank her tea and almost dropped the mug when another tree came crashing down close to the house. The professor sat opposite her at the table, a twin on each knee with Eleanor close to him; she found herself wishing that she could be close to him too, he gave the impression, probably erroneous, that while he was there nothing awful was going to happen. She watched his face, wondering what he had to laugh about when she was straining every nerve not to burst into tears along with the children, but she didn’t look away quickly enough and he caught her eye. The smile he gave her was kind, but just sufficiently mocking to make her sit up and lift her chin. She remembered that he had called her a gorgon; the memory helped enormously and she felt her courage creeping back, after all the storm couldn’t last much longer. She flinched as the room was filled by vivid blue lightning and the thunder tumbled and crashed around the house. In the quiet pause before the next deafening din he observed: ‘I think the storm is moving away.’ And he was right; surprisingly fifteen minutes later the sun was shining from a blue sky and the ground was steaming. The children, their fright forgotten, demanded to go down to the beach. ‘And why not?’ asked their uncle. ‘That is if Nanny permits it?’