Part 4 (1/2)
”So vexing I had planned to go into Yeovil and do some shopping; now that wretched Mr. Tims wants to call this morning. Hurry up and eat your breakfast, Cressida, and get a tray ready. If he doesn't stay I'll still have time to go. Bring the coffee as soon as he gets here.”
Cressida went to the kitchen, laid a tray for coffee and told Miss Mogford, ”Half-past ten, he said in his letter. She didn't tell me why, papers to sign, I expect Mr. Tims arrived punctually and Mrs. Preece, eager to get to Yeovil, didn't keep him waiting. Cressida carried in the coffee, wished him a cheerful good morning and made for the door.
”What I have to say concerns both Cressida and Miss Mogford, Mrs. Preece. I should like them both to be here if you would be so kind.”
Mrs. Preece flashed him a look quite lacking in kindness.
”Really, Mr. Tims, is this necessary? They are both busy around the house.”
Mr. Tims looked at her over his spectacles.
”It is necessary, Mrs. Preece.”
So Cressida fetched Miss Mogford and they sat awkwardly side by side on one of the big sofas, wondering what on earth was going to happen next.
Mr. Tims cleared his throat and opened his brief case.
”I was looking through Mr. Preece's papers very recently and it occurs to me that there may have been a misunderstanding concerning Miss Mogford's legacy According to the will she is ent.i.tled to claim it whenever she wishes; she may in fact leave as soon as she wants and the money will be paid to her. There is no question of her having to remain in service until she is sixty. I believe that was the impression given her at the time of the reading of the will; mistakenly of course.”
Miss Mogford said gruffly.
”You really mean that? I can pack my bags and go and still have the legacy?” She looked at Mrs. Preece.
”Madam told me that I would have to stay or I wouldn't get the money.”
Mrs. Preece hastily adjusted her features into a look of apologetic regret.
”Oh, dear, I'm sure that was never intended. Silly me, I never have been any good at this kind of thing.”
She smiled charmingly at Mr. Tims, who said politely, ”Well, no harm done, I imagine.” He turned to Cressida.
”If at any future time you should decide to leave home, I am entrusted with a small sum of money, sufficient, I trust, to start you off in whatever venture you may consider.”
”Oh, Cressida would never dream of leaving me,” said Mrs. Preece quickly.
”My nerves, you know. It is essential that I have someone to take care of me and she is very used to that.”
Cressida said nothing, merely thanked Mr. Tims and offered him more coffee. He refused, and said that he had another client to see in the neighbourhood, and Miss Mogford got up to show him out. Mrs. Preece bade him goodbye in a cold voice he hadn't shown her the sympathy she had expected and Cressida shook hands, saying nothing but looking at him with eyes alight with damped-down excitement. By jove, thought Mr. Tims, those lovely eyes of hers made a man forget her ordinary looks.
When he had gone Mrs. Preece said sharply, ”Of course there is no question of your going. Miss Mogford. I'm quite prepared to give you a bigger wage, and after all this has been your home for years.”
Moggy's severe features became even more severe.
”You pay me weekly, Mrs. Preece. I'm giving you a week's notice as from today.”
She turned on her heel and marched briskly back to the kitchen, leaving Mrs. Preece speechless. But not for long!
”The wretch, after all I've done for her. Go after her, Cressida, and tell her she must stay. What am I to do without a housekeeper?” Tears of self-pity rolled down her carefully made-up cheeks.
Cressida, a-fire with the prospect of freedom, sat down or- the arm of a chair.
”No, I won't tell Moggy anything of the sort,” she said calmly.
”You've never done anything for her and you can get another house keeper.”
Mrs. Preece's eyes bulged.
”Cressida, have you taken leave of your senses? How dare you talk to me like that, after all I've...?”
She stopped because Cressida was smiling.
”I'm going too. Stepmother.”
”Don't be ridiculous. What will you do? And you've no money.”
”I'm very experienced in housework and Mr. Tims said that there was a little money.”
”Rubbish. No one will employ you.” Mrs. Preece changed her tactics.
”If you will stay, Cressida, I'll make you an allowance. I'll get another housekeeper and you can train her. I simply cannot manage with out someone to run this house. My nerves...” She gave Cressida a wan smile.
”What would your father have said?”
”He would have told me to pack my bags and go,” said Cressida promptly.
Cressida lay awake for a long time that night. She intended to leave at the same time as Moggy although just for the moment she had no idea as to what she would do. London, she supposed vaguely; surely there would be work of some sort there. If she had a roof over her head she could save most of her wages and then train for something, she wasn't sure what. But to be free and live her own life she uttered a sigh of pure content and fell asleep.
In the light of early morning she lost some of the euphoria. She wasn't sure if she had enough money to get to London, for a start she would have to see Mr. Tims and when she got there, then where would she go? This was something which would have to be settled before she left home; she was a practical girl; to arrive in London with no notion of where she was to lay her head that night was bird-witted. Something would have to be done about that.
Something was. Mrs. Preece, sitting languidly in her drawing-room, refusing to do anything about rear ranging her household, declaring that she felt ill enough to take to her bed, was forced to pull herself together when Miss Mogford came to tell her that she had a caller: Mrs. Sefton, who lived some miles from Minton Cracknell but whom she had met on various occasions at other people's houses. She didn't like the lady overmuch; overbearing, she considered, with an amused contempt for weak nerves and women who couldn't do the was.h.i.+ng-up for themselves. That she lived in a large house, well-staffed and well-run, had nothing to say to the matter; Mrs. Sefton was perfectly capable of running the place single-handed if it were necessary and that without a single grumble.
She breezed into the room now and bade her reluctant hostess good morning. Her voice wasn't loud but had a penetrating ring to it, so that Mrs. Preece closed her eyes for a moment.
”A lovely morning,” declared Mrs. Sefton.
”You should be out. There's the autumn fete at Watly House this afternoon aren't you going?”
Mrs. Preece said faintly that no, she didn't think she felt well enough.
”Well, you look all right,” said Mrs. Sefton.
”My nerves, you know.”