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old home. 'I might be able to make a living, and
there'll be the interest...'
`Very prudent,' commented Mr Willett, his hands
clasped before him as though in prayer, not inappro-
priate since he was breathing silent pleas for for-
giveness for telling such a pack of lies, even though
they were in the best possible interests of the listener.
He gave her coffee, handed her the keys of the
cottage, and suggested that when she had been to the
bank she might take a taxi to Brokenwell. 'An ex-
travagance,' he said, smiling at her, 'but for once to
be condoned.'
90 FATE TAKES A HAND
Eulalia, with money in her purse, got out of the
taxi, paid the driver and stood on the narrow pave-
ment, looking at the property. It was an end cottage,
one of a row in the centre of the village, its outside
wall overlooking a narrow lane which petered out
after a few hundred yards into fields. It looked solid,
even if shabby, with a stout door and a window on
either side and three smaller windows above. The
door opened straight on to the pavement, and after a
moment she put the key in the lock and went inside.
There was no hall; she found herself in a small
room with faded wallpaper and a Victorian fireplace
with an inglenook on either side of it. The door in
the opposite wall led straight into the kitchen, its
plastered walls discoloured and housing an ancient
gas stove and a large white porcelain sink. The back
door beside its small window opened on to the gar-
den, and she went outside to have a look. It was in
a woeful state, overgrown, with the tin cans and pa-
per bags lying around, but it was quite large, with
apple-trees at the end of it and a brick wall surround-
ing it. She sighed with delight. Peter could have his
puppy at last...
Inside again, she opened the second door in the
living-room to another small room, with the same
old-fashioned fireplace and a deep window-seat and
a door half-open on to a narrow twisting staircase.
She went up slowly and found them solid enough,
and at the top there was a tiny landing with three
doors. The rooms were small but the views from
BETTY NEELS 91
them were delightful. No bathroom, but then, if she
could find someone to put one in for her...
She went out into the main street and walked to
the other end and up another small lane, and knocked
on the door of a house with a workshop attached.
The man who answered it was young, about her age,
short and sturdy, with twinkling eyes.
`Lord love us, if it isn't Miss Lally. Here's a sight
for sore eyes come back to live, 'ave yer?'
`Yes. It's Jacob, isn't it?' She held out a hand and
had it wrung. 'I wondered if your father could do
some work for me.'
`Dad? 'E died two year ago. I'm carrying on the
business. What do you want done?'
`I've inherited Ivy Cottage and I want to come and
live in it. I haven't much money to spend, but it does
need painting and repairing and I want a bathroom
built on. Could you do it?'
`Don't see why not, Miss Lally. Tell you what,
I'll come with you now and take a look and give
you an idea of what it'll cost. It'll be an idea just
a rough one, mind.'
He took some time going over the little house,
talking cheerfully all the time. 'The old dodger 'oo
'ad it, he went and died a year ago. Rented it, he
did, never bothered much with paint and so on. But
it's sound enough, needs a bit of plastering and a
lick of paint, and a couple of the windows need to
be rehung.'
`And a bathroom?' urged Eulalia.
92 FATE TAKES A HAND
`Well, now got to get planning permission for
that. Shouldn't be too 'ard, seeing as I'll build it on
the back wall the other side of the back door.'
`How long before I could move in?'
`In an 'urry ter come back, are you? Well, we'll
all be glad ter see you, Miss Lally. I'm not all that
busy give or take, a couple of weeks ter paint and
plaster in and out, take a look at the roof. Don't want
no paper on the walls?'
`No, just a nice creamy emulsion you know a
kind of clotted cream.'
`Just the ticket. The bathroom'll take a bit longer
but I could get Jim the plumber 'oo works for
me ter put a washbasin in one of the bedrooms...'
`All of them, please, and what about hot water?'
`One of them gas boilers. Open fires?'
`Oh, yes. Can you give me some idea of how
much it will cost? I know it'll be a rough guess.'
He sat down on the window-seat and produced
pencil and paper. The sum he suggested would still
leave more than fifty thousand in the bank.
`That's all right. Do you want something on ac-
count?'
`It'd be a help.'
She got out her new cheque-book. 'And if I came
down in about two weeks, could you advise me
about a cooking stove? I've got a washing-machine
at the flat in London. It's pretty old but I dare say
it'll do for another year or two.' She smiled at him.
`Jacob, it's lovely coming back home. I've still got
BETTY NEELS 93
Miss Trott with me and an orphaned nephew. He's
eight, and just longing to get away from London. So
are we.' They went out into the street together. 'I'll
write to you when we'll be coming to look round,
shall I?'
`You do that, Miss Lally. 'Ow you getting back
now?'
`I expect there's a bus. I must get back to London
this evening.'
`Tell you what, I'll run you back to Cirencester.
You wait 'ere, I'll get the van.'
`But it's past your dinnertime.'
`The wife'll keep it 'ot. It's only a few miles any-
way.'
She got home late that evening, tired but happy.
Jacob had driven her to Cirencester and left her at
the railway station and she had had a meal there,
decided to take the late afternoon train, and taken
herself to look at the shops. Curtains, she had
thought happily, and fitted carpets in the bedrooms...
By the end of the afternoon she had had a very good
idea of what she should buy, and when she had
passed the gas showroom windows, she had gone
back and entered the shop, chosen a gas cooker and
paid for it, feeling reckless.
Recounting her day to the interested Trottie, she
observed, 'I do hope I haven't been extravagant,
Trottie, but it was reduced because I paid for it at
once, and they'll deliver it in a week's time. That'll
give Jacob time to get the kitchen painted. Oh,
94 FATE TAKES A HAND
Trottie, it's such a dear little place, I can't believe
it's true. We'll be so happy there. It's as though it
was meant to happen...'
Mr van Linssen, who had meant it to happen, had a
satisfactory talk over the phone with Mr Willett
when he got home from the hospital. So far so
good...!
The postman came again the next morning, this time
with a letter from Eulalia's landlord to inform her
that when her lease expired within a few weeks, he
regretted having to renew it at a higher rent.
It gave her great pleasure to write and tell him that
she wouldn't be renewing the lease.
The next ten days were passed happily enough,
plotting and planning about the future: colour
schemes were discussed, curtain material decided
upon, a furniture remover sought out who would take
their household goods as a part-load on his way to
Malmesbury and then, assured by Jacob that the cot-
tage was going along nicely, they went, all three of
them, to Brokenwell. There was a convenient bus
this time, so that they got off in the village just be-
fore midday, and as they walked down the street they
were stopped by people who remembered them, glad
to see them again, so that by the time they reached
Ivy Cottage, Peter was dancing with impatience.
It looked quite different now. Jacob had given its
walls of Cotswold stone a good clean, painted the
BETTY NEELS 95
door and the windows and replaced the broken gut-
ters. They went inside and found him there, painting
the window-seat. He put down his brush as they went
in, shook hands with Eulalia and Miss Trott and said,
"Ello, young 'un,' to Peter before taking them on a
tour. He had worked miracles, it seemed to Eulalia;
the whole place seemed larger now that the walls
were painted.
`That's a fine sink,' said Trottie. 'Don't anyone go
taking that away.'
`Never worry, Miss Trott, and I'll fix you up a
few shelves wherever you want them.'
The bedrooms commanded instant approval. 'May
I have a room in the front?' asked Peter. 'I can see
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