A Good Wife. Бетти Нилс

the pros and cons of investments, while their wives interrupted with suggestions that the money would be better spent on refurbishing their homes and wardrobes. They broke off their discussions when she joined them, and Henry said gravely that of course the money would be put to good use.

      ‘I have heavy commitments,’ he pointed out, ‘and the children to educate.’ That they were at state schools and not costing him a penny was neither here nor there. Serena could see that he was anxious to impress upon her that she couldn’t expect any financial help from him.

      It was Matthew who asked her what she intended to do. ‘For I am surprised at Father leaving you so ill provided for. Perhaps we could—?’

      His wife interrupted smoothly, ‘Serena is bound to find a good job easily; such a practical and sensible girl, and only herself to worry about. I must admit that I—we are very relieved to have inherited something. It will be just enough to have central heating put in—the house is so damp…’

      ‘I thought the Church Council, or whatever it is, paid for things like that,’ said Serena.

      Her sister-in-law went red. ‘We might have to wait for months—years, even—while they decide to have it done.’ She added sharply, ‘Matthew’s income is very small.’

      Serena reflected that Matthew had a private income from a legacy both brothers had received from an old aunt years ago. Neither of them needed to worry about money, but there was no point in reminding them of that! She offered coffee and sandwiches and presently bade them goodbye. They would keep in touch, they told her as they drove away.

      She cleared away the cups and saucers and plates, fed Puss and sat down to have a think about her future. She was a practical girl, and for the moment she put aside her own vague plans. They were to be allowed to take personal property and gifts before the house was handed over, and the house would need to be left in good order. She would need to get the cases and trunks down from the attic so that their possessions could be packed. There were bills to be paid, too, and people to notify. Only when that was done could she decide what she would do.

      At the back of her mind, of course, was the reluctant thought that Gregory might want to marry her. It was an easy solution for her future but, tempting though it was to have the rest of her life settled without effort on her part, she was doubtful. It was, of course, the sensible thing to do, but under her practical manner there was the hope, romantic and deeply buried, that one day she would meet a man who would love her as dearly as she would him. And that man wasn’t Gregory.

      She went to bed presently, with Puss for company, and since it had been a busy and rather sad day, she went immediately to sleep.

      Gregory had been at the funeral, but he hadn’t come to the house afterwards, pleading an appointment he had been unable to cancel. He would come, he had assured her, on the following evening.

      ‘We have a great deal to talk about,’ he had told her, smiling and looking at her with what she’d decided was a proprietary look.

      She hadn’t minded that, for yesterday she had been feeling in need of cherishing. Now, in the cold light of early morning, common sense took over. Gregory might not be the man of her dreams, but if he loved her she might in time learn to love him, too. She liked him, was even a little fond of him, but she had the wit to know that that was because she hadn’t had the opportunity to meet other men…

      She spent the day busily, dragging down cases and a trunk from the attics, clearing out her father’s bedroom, and, after a sandwich and coffee, sitting down to write letters to those who had written and sent flowers. She had tea then, and changed into a sweater and skirt, did her hair and face and put a tray ready with coffee. She lighted a small fire in the sitting room, for the evening was chilly, and sat down to wait for Gregory.

      He was late. His car wouldn’t start, he explained, adding that he would soon be able to get a new one. He smiled as he said it, but Serena, pouring the coffee, didn’t see that.

      They talked for a little while about the funeral, until he put down his cup, saying, ‘Well, Serena, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t get married as soon as we can arrange it. I’ll move in here, of course. I’ve always liked this house. We can modernise it a little—perhaps another bathroom, have the central heating updated, have the rooms redecorated.’ He smiled at her. ‘We must use your money to its best advantage, and you can rely on me getting the best advice as to investing your capital…’

      Serena had been pouring herself another cup of coffee. She put the pot down carefully. ‘But this house isn’t mine.’ She sounded quite matter-of-fact about it. ‘Father has left it to charity.’

      Gregory said sharply, ‘But he has left you a legacy? He was comfortably off, you know.’

      ‘Five hundred pounds,’ said Serena, still very matter-of-fact. ‘The rest goes with the house.’

      ‘But this is preposterous. You must contest the will. What about your brothers?’ Gregory wasn’t only surprised, he was angry. ‘And how are you supposed to live? Something must be done about it at once.’

      ‘I don’t see why,’ said Serena in a reasonable voice. ‘If this is what Father wanted, why change it? Henry and Matthew are quite happy about it.’ She paused. ‘And if you’re going to marry me, I don’t need to worry, do I?’

      Gregory went red. ‘You must see that this alters all my plans, Serena. I’m an ambitious man and I need a secure background, a good living standard, a suitable house…’

      ‘What you mean is that you need to marry a well-to-do girl. Not me.’

      Gregory looked relieved. ‘What a sensible girl you are, Serena. You understand me…’

      Serena stood up. ‘Oh, I do, Gregory, and nothing would make me marry you if you were the last man living. Now, will you go away? I don’t want to see you again, and now I come to think about it, I wouldn’t like to be married to you. Run along and find that rich girl!’

      Gregory started towards her. ‘Let us part…’ he began.

      ‘Oh, do go along,’ said Serena.

      After he had gone she went to the kitchen to get her supper—scrambled eggs on toast—and, since she felt that this was something of an occasion, she took the keys of the sideboard and chose a bottle of claret.

      She ate at the kitchen table, with Puss at her feet enjoying a treat from a tin of sardines. And she drank two glasses of claret. She supposed that she would have been feeling unhappy and worried, but she was pleased to discover that all she felt was relief. She had five hundred pounds and the world before her in which to find the man of her dreams. She tossed back the last of the claret in her glass.

      There was no need to look for him. She had already found him, although she wasn’t sure if a brief acquaintance with Dr van Doelen was sufficient to clinch the matter. She thought not. Indeed, it was unlikely that their paths would cross in the future. She would do better to get herself a job and hope to meet a man as like him as possible.

      Nicely buoyed up, she by the claret and Puss by an excess of sardines, they went upstairs to bed and slept dreamlessly.

      Henry came in the morning, telling her importantly that he had taken a few hours off in order to look round the house and claim anything to which he was entitled. Which turned out to be quite a lot: the table silver, a claret jug and three spirit bottles in a metal frame, and the best part of a Spoke tea service which had belonged to their mother, that Matthew would have no use for nor would Serena, Henry pointed out.

      ‘But I have no doubt that Matthew will be glad to have the dinner service. Father bought it from Selfridges, I believe, so anything which may break can be replaced. There’s the new coffee percolator, too; I’ll leave that for him. Where is the Wedgwood biscuit barrel, Serena?’

      ‘In the cupboard in the dining room, Henry. Shouldn’t you wait and see what Matthew wants—and what I might want?’

      ‘My dear girl, Matthew will want useful things which he