(9/13)The School at Thrush Green Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jenny not much younger. They are neither of them in the best of health and they have quite enough to do coping with everyday living. A visit, no matter how short, would be too much for them.'
    There was a snort from the other end of the line. 'What rubbish! She said she would be delighted to have me there for a few days.'
    'Naturally, she would. She is fond of you and would do all she could to fall in with your requests. My point is that you should not make any. She is my patient, and so is Jenny. I won't see their health put at risk.'
    There was another snort.
    'If you must stay in the area,' went on John remorselessly, 'I'm sure you could get a room at The Fleece. I can give you the telephone number.'
    'I know the telephone number, thank you very much,' replied Richard stuffily, and rang off.
    'Well, I hope that's choked him off,' said John, replacing the receiver. 'And if it hasn't, I'll have the greatest pleasure in knocking his block off.'

    News of Richard's visit and his intention to find somewhere to live locally was soon common knowledge at Thrush Green. How this came about was the usual mystery, for Winnie had only mentioned the matter to Jenny and her old friend and neighbour Ella Bembridge, and John Lovell had said nothing, not even to Ruth, his wife.
    Nevertheless, speculation was rife, and sympathy for Winnie Bailey's predicament was general.
    Betty Bell, who kept the school clean and rushed round the Shoosmiths' house next door twice a week, told Isobel all about it as she wound the vacuum cleaner cord into the tight figure-of-eight which Harold so detested.
    'Too soft by half Mrs Bailey is,' she pronounced. 'That nephew of hers gets away with murder over there.'
    'Oh come!' protested Isobel.
    'Well, near enough,' conceded Betty, crashing the vacuum cleaner into a cupboard and capsising two tins of polish, a basket full of clothes pegs and half a dozen bottling jars. 'Luckily, Doctor Lovell's given him a piece of his mind, so maybe he'll stop bothering his poor auntie.'
    She sat back on her haunches and began to repair the damage. 'And anyway,' she continued, 'what's he want coming to live here? He's all over the place, from what I hear. America, China, Bristol, Oxford, lecturing or something. Waste of money, I'd say, to have a home.'
    'He needs somewhere to keep his things,' Isobel pointed out.
    'But why here? It's all coming and going, isn't it? You heard as they're giving up next door?'
    Isobel felt shocked. 'Are you sure?'
    'Positive. Miss Watson said so. In the summer, she said.'
    Isobel could not help wondering if this were true. Surely, Agnes would have told her if this were so.
    'Awful lot of clobber you keep in here,' commented Betty, rising from her task. 'You really want it all?'
    'It has to go somewhere, Betty,' said her employer. 'Like Richard, you know.'

    The house was remarkably peaceful after Betty Bell had departed on her bicycle and Isobel, still a little perturbed by her news, went in search of Harold.
    She found him in his study with his old friend Charles Henstock, rector of Thrush Green and vicar of Lulling.
    'What a nice surprise! Is Dimity around?'
    'No, she's busy shopping in the town and calling at the Lovelocks.'
    'Not for lunch, I hope,' said Harold.
    Charles laughed. 'No, no. Nothing like that. I have to be home at twelve-thirty for lunch, Dimity told me.'
    Harold glanced at his watch. 'Well, far be it from me to speed a parting guest, particularly such a welcome one as you, Charles, but it's nearly ten to one now.'
    'Good heavens!' exclaimed the vicar, much flustered. 'I must run for it. Can I leave the upkeep account with you then?'
    'Of course you can, and don't worry about it. I'm sure there's some simple explanation about the discrepancy.'
    Charles was busy collecting his gloves, scarf, hat and a brown paper bag bulging dangerously with over-ripe bananas.
    'Well, thank you, thank you, my dear fellow. I don't know how I'd get on without you.'
    He hastened to the door, and made