Free The Tender Winds of Spring by Joyce Dingwell Page B

three.’
    ‘Josie!’
    ‘Yes, yes, I know, Gavin, I know you’ve been very gracious about it all, I know no man wants to start off so extremely married.’
    ‘Exactly, dear. You put the position perfectly.’
    ‘Actually it was Abel Passant who said that. He was very understanding for you.’
    ‘Really?’ said Gavin. ‘Well, dear, keep thinking and I’ll abide by your decision.’
    ‘Yes, Gavin. Thank you, Gavin. Goodbye, Gavin.’ Jo put down the phone.
    Later in the afternoon Abel came down.
    Jo reported her failure to find out anything, and he nodded.
    ‘I rather suspected that. I’ve been in touch with the schools again, had a word with several of the teachers. Unfortunately both schools are large establishments, not much of the individual, personal touch. But from what I can gather the kids were not the favourite pupils. Rather sullen little brutes there, I concluded, as they are here. Well, that was the message I got.’
    ‘They’re not sullen little brutes.’
    ‘Prove it,’ he shrugged. ‘But I did get one suggestion from a teacher of Sukey’s—younger than the others from the sound of her, so possibly still with a few ideals left. A lifetime of kids must shatter your dreams. This one suggested speaking about their friends.’ Abel paused. ‘If they had any. She said that rarely does a child not communicate with another child. And it could be true. Just now our trio are living in a world of long legs and big words.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So I want you to try that angle. You could ask, for instance, what did they give their best friends ... very important people to the young, I can remember ... for farewell presents. If they say nothing, which they will, for one thing that I have established definitely is a lack of money, you can suggest they send them some now. Well, it’s a try.’ As he said it, Abel threw down a wad of notes.
    ‘That’s too much,’ gasped Jo.
    ‘Not divided by three kids, then divided again by heaven knows how many friends.’
    ‘Well, if you say so, but I still don’t know.’
    ‘Then just give it a go,’ he urged. He waited a moment. ‘Another thing. The Child Welfare.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘An officer is coming out.’
    ‘Whatever for?’ she asked.
    ‘Because the children are still here and not in there.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Where?’ he echoed. ‘Wherever it is they put them until they decide their fate.’
    ‘It sounds awful!’ protested Jo.
    ‘The officer coming out or the fate deciding?’
    ‘Both, the way I’m feeling now. I mean—well—those three—Oh, I just don’t know, Abel, they could even turn round and say I—I—’
    ‘Walloped them? My dear Josephine, these officers are trained. They can cop a lie on a child’s lips before it even comes out. Don’t fret, it will be all right.’ Another pause. ‘Nothing more to report from your side?’
    ‘Only Gavin. He rang up to know—’ Jo bit her lip.
    ‘Know which one? He’s in a bit of a hurry, isn’t he? He gave you a week before.’
    ‘Yes, but it’s different now.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because ... well, because one does change one’s mind, you know, one does think differently. That’s life.’
    ‘Perhaps I have hurried things along,’ Abel suggested, ‘looking at you with lustful eyes.’
    ‘Oh, don’t be absurd!’
    ‘All the same, you say he’s getting anxious. Then you certainly must make up your mind, mustn’t you, Miss Millett?’
    ‘I’ve made it up. I’ve always had it made up.’
    ‘Then which one?’
    ‘I meant that I’ve always had it made up that it was Gavin for me.’
    ‘I thought,’ he said drily, ‘it was the kids we were talking about. Or are they just in passing?’
    ‘Mr. Passant, you’ve been a great help, and I do appreciate it, in fact I don’t know what I would have done without you, but—’
    ‘But?’
    ‘But this other isn’t your concern, is it? I mean, I do appreciate the time and care you’ve taken, but there comes a moment—’
    ‘I