âWell, you see, I wouldnât marry you for your money,â Arabella said.
âNo, no, Iâm sure you wouldnât.â Doctor Teverner spoke gravely; she didnât see the gleam of amusement in his eyes.
She got up. âThank you for letting me talk and for giving me advice. I hope I havenât made you late for anything.â
He assured her that she hadnât, bade her a cheerful good-night and took himself off home where Mrs. Turner met him by saying, âTime you were married, Doctor. And if Iâve said that once, Iâve said it a hundred times!â
âOne day Iâll surprise you,â he promised her.
DEAR Sir,
With reference to your advertisement in this weekâs Lady magazine, I wish to apply for the post of Caretaker/Housekeeper.
I am twenty-seven years of age, single with no dependants, and have several yearsâ experience in household management including washing, ironing, cleaning and cooking. I am a cordon bleu cook. I have a working knowledge of minor electrical and plumbing faults. I am able to take messages and answer the telephone.
I would wish to bring my cat with me.
Yours faithfully,
Arabella Lorimer
IT WAS the last letter to be read by the elderly man sitting at his desk in his consulting-room, a large apartment on the ground floor of a Regency house, one of a terrace, in Wigmore Street, London. He read it for a second time, gave a rumble of laughter, and added it to the pile before him. There were twelve applicants in all and Arabella Lorimer was the only one to enclose referencesâthe only one to write legibly, too, neatly setting down all the relevant facts. It was a pity that she wasnât a manâ¦
He began to read the letters again and was interrupted halfway through by the entry of his partner. Dr Titus Tavener came unhurriedly into the room, a very tall man with broad shoulders and a massive person. He was handsome with a high-bridged nose, a firm mouth and rather cold blue eyes. His hair, once fair, was pepper and salt, despite which he looked younger than his forty years.
Dr James Marshall, short and stout and almost bald, greeted him with pleasure. âJust the man I want. The applications for the caretakerâs postâI have them here; Iâve spent the last hour reading them. Iâve decided which one I shall accept. Do read them, Titus, and give me your opinion. Not that it will make any difference to my choice.â He chortled as Dr Tavener sat himself down and picked up the little pile of letters. He read them through, one after the other, and then gathered them neatly together.
âThere are one or two possibles: the ex-bus driverâalthough he admits to asthma attacksâthen this Mrs Butler.â He glanced at the letter in his hand. âBut is she quite the type to open the door? Of course the joker in the pack is Miss Arabella Lorimer and her cat. Most unsuitable.â
âWhy?â
âObviously a maiden lady down on her luck. I donât think I believe her skills are quite what she claims them to be. Iâd hesitate to leave a stopped-up drain-pipe or a blown fuse to her ladylike hands.â
His partner laughed. âTitus, I can only hope that one day before itâs too late you will meet a woman who will turn you sides to middle and then tramp all over you.â
Dr Tavener smiled. âUnlikely. Perhaps I have been rather hard on the lady. There is always the possibility that she is an Amazon with a tool-kit.â
âWell, you will soon know. Iâve decided that she might do.â
Dr Tavener got up and strolled to the window and stood looking out on to the quiet street. âAnd why not? Mrs Lane will be glad to leave. Her arthritis isnât getting any better and sheâs probably longing to go and live with her daughter. Sheâll take her furniture with her, I suppose? Do we furnish the place?â
âIt dependsâMiss Lorimer may have her own stuff.â Dr Marshall pushed back his chair. âWeâve a busy day tomorrow; Iâll see if your Amazon can come for an interview at five oâclock. Will you be back by then?â
âUnlikelyâthe clinic is overbooked as it is. In any case, Iâm dining out.â He turned to look at his partner. âI dare say youâve made a good choice, James.â He strolled to the door. âIâve some paperwork to deal with. Shall I send Miss Baird home? Youâre going yourself? I shall be here for another hour yetâsee you in the morning.â