The Edge of Winter (Betty Neels Collection) by Betty Neels

The Edge of Winter (Betty Neels Collection) by Betty Neels

Author:Betty Neels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-11-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SIX

ARAMINTA, NATURALLY ENOUGH, spent a great deal of the night deep in thought, a circumstance hardly likely to improve her day, which, when it came, was far worse than anything she could have imagined. Bertram had been fetched after breakfast, to spend yet another day at his friend’s home, and that had left Thomas and herself. She had cleared up while he gloomed round the flat, making no effort to help her, and it wasn’t until she was almost finished that he disclosed the fact that a dozen or so people would be coming back after the funeral.

Araminta paused in her carpet sweeping. ‘Thomas, you never said a word! Will they want coffee and sandwiches? There’s no time…’

‘Naturally I shall offer my friends refreshment,’ he told her. ‘I’ve arranged for sandwiches to be sent in, all that’s required of you is to make and serve the coffee.’

He was hateful! She felt her temper rising and tried to subdue it so that she could answer him in a normal voice. ‘I’ll do my best—and Thomas, I’ve had no chance to tell you, but you must have guessed, anyway. I’m going back to St Katherine’s tomorrow—an early morning flight.’ That wasn’t quite true, but he might argue with her unless she was quite definite. She would have to make arrangements later on; she didn’t want to stay any longer now, she had done all she could, and a thankless task it had been, too. She listened, not very attentively, to his prosy voice going on and on about her lack of loyalty, her selfishness and the impossibility of coping with the flat, the shopping, Bertram and above all, his work. When he paused for breath she observed sensibly: ‘Well, Thomas, you’ve had two or three days in which to find a housekeeper, and surely your friends will rally round—they always do, you know.’

‘Naturally they will,’ he said stiffly, ‘but I’m more than surprised that you should bring up the subject of leaving today of all days.’

She turned to face him, very pink. ‘But today isn’t any different from any other for you, is it? You aren’t grieved about Thelma, are you, so why pretend?’

She had gone to the kitchen and started banging the cups and saucers on to the trays, longing for the day to be over.

Four hours later, listening to the church bells ringing out one o’clock, she realised that there was still a lot of the day left. Thomas’s friends had come back with them, and sat around drinking the coffee she handed round, and the sandwiches—not nearly enough—had all been eaten up so that she had had to go to the kitchen and cut more. They had talked in loud, high voices, commiserating with Thomas while they cast accusing looks at Araminta. Thomas had obviously got them all on his side—and no one mentioned Thelma. Araminta disappeared into the kitchen as soon as she could and began on the piles of crockery. She had no wish to wash



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