Phil. 'You get good training at Thrush Green in the art of sociability.'
'I think you are right. I only hope that Alan Lester's wife will think so too. As the headmaster's wife, she'll be scrutinized pretty thoroughly, I'm afraid. It's not easy, you know, living on top of the job like that.'
'Agnes and Dorothy managed it,' said Phil.
'Agnes and Dorothy,' responded Winnie, 'were two remarkable women, whose lives were outstandingly exemplary and virtually an open book.'
'Well, let's hope the Lesters will prove the same,' said Phil, rising to return next door.
'Let's hope so indeed,' echoed Winnie.
While the two ladies were conversing in the garden at Thrush Green, the subjects of their discussion were studying a Trust House Hotels' brochure with much interest.
It had been Dorothy's idea that another short break would do them both good.
'After all, Agnes,' she said, 'you had to spend quite some time in bed when we were at Thrush Green. The visit really didn't do you the benefit it should have done. What about somewhere further north?'
'Scotland, do you mean?'
'No, no, no! There's no need to go somewhere as extreme as that, all mist and murk.'
She turned the pages briskly.
'I'm really quite content to stay here,' ventured Agnes.
'I'm sure you are,' said Dorothy, 'but the fact remains that in this humid weather Barton seems as hot and sticky as most places. I should like somewhere more wooded, and with a few nice hills.'
'What about Wales? Are there any Welsh hotels in that brochure?'
'Quite a few.'
She browsed in silence for a time.
'What I like about these Trust House places is that they have a kettle in the bedroom.'
Agnes looked bewildered.
'For tea, dear, or coffee,' explained Dorothy in the tone she used to address somewhat dim-witted children in her teaching days. 'It does mean that one can have a cuppa in the privacy of one's room rather than having to be civil to strangers in the lounge.'
It was quite clear to Agnes that they would certainly be setting off for another few days' holiday within the next few weeks, and she adapted herself to the idea, though with some remaining misgivings.
'What about your meetings? And Teddy?' she added.
'We can pick a time when we haven't any commitments; and I have no doubt that Eileen would be only too pleased to read to Teddy.'
She sounded a little waspish, Agnes thought. She disliked Eileen's noisy ways as much as Dorothy did, but recognized the fact that Eileen was a lonely woman, and also extremely kind-hearted. In fact, Agnes remembered, with a wave of gratitude, she had offered to look after dear Timmy if they were away.
'There's Timmy—' she began.
'Well, we know all about Tim,' said Dorothy, shaking out the brochure impatiently to find the map. 'We faced the problem of Tim when we took him on. No doubt one of the neighbours will feed him.'
'I was just going to say so,' said Agnes. 'Eileen mentioned it only the other day. Anytime, she said, she would look after him, and I'm sure she meant it.'
'I'm sure she did,' agreed Dorothy, spreading the map on the table. 'There's nothing Eileen likes more than seeing inside other people's houses.'
Agnes fell silent. It was the only thing to do when Dorothy was in this mood.
'There seem to be some nice hotels in the Derbyshire area,' said Dorothy.
'Isn't that rather a long way to drive? Isn't Birmingham in the way?'
'Well, Birmingham doesn't stretch right the way across! We could drive to the left or right of it, if you see what I mean.'
Agnes joined her friend and studied the map too.
'There are certainly some lovely old houses to see,' she agreed. 'Kedleston Hall and Hardwick, and lots of others. And of course we should get the hills, shouldn't we?'
At that moment the telephone rang, and Dorothy hastened into the hall to answer it. She was smiling when she returned.
'It was that nice Terry Burns,' she told Agnes, naming one of the churchwardens. 'He's bringing round some gardening books at about six. I
'I think you are right. I only hope that Alan Lester's wife will think so too. As the headmaster's wife, she'll be scrutinized pretty thoroughly, I'm afraid. It's not easy, you know, living on top of the job like that.'
'Agnes and Dorothy managed it,' said Phil.
'Agnes and Dorothy,' responded Winnie, 'were two remarkable women, whose lives were outstandingly exemplary and virtually an open book.'
'Well, let's hope the Lesters will prove the same,' said Phil, rising to return next door.
'Let's hope so indeed,' echoed Winnie.
While the two ladies were conversing in the garden at Thrush Green, the subjects of their discussion were studying a Trust House Hotels' brochure with much interest.
It had been Dorothy's idea that another short break would do them both good.
'After all, Agnes,' she said, 'you had to spend quite some time in bed when we were at Thrush Green. The visit really didn't do you the benefit it should have done. What about somewhere further north?'
'Scotland, do you mean?'
'No, no, no! There's no need to go somewhere as extreme as that, all mist and murk.'
She turned the pages briskly.
'I'm really quite content to stay here,' ventured Agnes.
'I'm sure you are,' said Dorothy, 'but the fact remains that in this humid weather Barton seems as hot and sticky as most places. I should like somewhere more wooded, and with a few nice hills.'
'What about Wales? Are there any Welsh hotels in that brochure?'
'Quite a few.'
She browsed in silence for a time.
'What I like about these Trust House places is that they have a kettle in the bedroom.'
Agnes looked bewildered.
'For tea, dear, or coffee,' explained Dorothy in the tone she used to address somewhat dim-witted children in her teaching days. 'It does mean that one can have a cuppa in the privacy of one's room rather than having to be civil to strangers in the lounge.'
It was quite clear to Agnes that they would certainly be setting off for another few days' holiday within the next few weeks, and she adapted herself to the idea, though with some remaining misgivings.
'What about your meetings? And Teddy?' she added.
'We can pick a time when we haven't any commitments; and I have no doubt that Eileen would be only too pleased to read to Teddy.'
She sounded a little waspish, Agnes thought. She disliked Eileen's noisy ways as much as Dorothy did, but recognized the fact that Eileen was a lonely woman, and also extremely kind-hearted. In fact, Agnes remembered, with a wave of gratitude, she had offered to look after dear Timmy if they were away.
'There's Timmy—' she began.
'Well, we know all about Tim,' said Dorothy, shaking out the brochure impatiently to find the map. 'We faced the problem of Tim when we took him on. No doubt one of the neighbours will feed him.'
'I was just going to say so,' said Agnes. 'Eileen mentioned it only the other day. Anytime, she said, she would look after him, and I'm sure she meant it.'
'I'm sure she did,' agreed Dorothy, spreading the map on the table. 'There's nothing Eileen likes more than seeing inside other people's houses.'
Agnes fell silent. It was the only thing to do when Dorothy was in this mood.
'There seem to be some nice hotels in the Derbyshire area,' said Dorothy.
'Isn't that rather a long way to drive? Isn't Birmingham in the way?'
'Well, Birmingham doesn't stretch right the way across! We could drive to the left or right of it, if you see what I mean.'
Agnes joined her friend and studied the map too.
'There are certainly some lovely old houses to see,' she agreed. 'Kedleston Hall and Hardwick, and lots of others. And of course we should get the hills, shouldn't we?'
At that moment the telephone rang, and Dorothy hastened into the hall to answer it. She was smiling when she returned.
'It was that nice Terry Burns,' she told Agnes, naming one of the churchwardens. 'He's bringing round some gardening books at about six. I
Similar Books
Just William's New Year's Day
Richmal Crompton
Terminal Lust
Kali Willows
The Shepherd File
Conrad Voss Bark
Round the Bend
Nevil Shute
Cherished: Love in London Series 2
Demelza Watts
Alpha Divided (Alpha Girl Book 3)
Aileen Erin
February
Lisa Moore
Just Cause Universe 2: The Archmage
Ian Thomas Healy
Barley Patch
Gerald Murnane
The Twelve Chairs
Ilya Ilf