“You are better now, Mrs. Mottingley? No, don’t sit up just yet. Would you like a drink of water?”
Everything was relaxed and easy. She took a drink of the water and sat up,
“I’m all right now. I’d like to go home.”
“My dear-” It was her husband. His arm was round her. She felt very safe and protected. And Jimmy was there too. He held her hand and said, “Mum-” She tried to think when he had last called her that. Not for years and years. There was something wrong about that. You oughtn’t to lose the confidence of your child because he has grown up. There was something very wrong about that. She would try to do better. She pressed Jimmy’s hand, and he said, “Mum-” in an odd shaken voice which took her back to the time when he had got out on the roof and she had thought he was going to fall. He was only seven years old…
She shut her eyes again for a moment as she remembered the scene. She had been so dreadfully frightened, but she hadn’t fainted-not then. And Jimmy hadn’t been frightened-not a bit of it. She remembered the whole thing. Curious how it came back to her now-Jimmy dancing along on the edge of danger, and then her husband getting hold of him, and the piteous sobs of a hurt child. Jimmy had never been so confident and gay again after that. She held to his hand and pulled him down close while she whispered,
“You’re safe, Jimmy-you’re safe-”
And then the boy who was one of their clerks came up and said, “I’ve got a taxi outside, Mr. Mottingley,” and her husband said, “Thank you, Lingbourne. We’ll come.”
Kathy, standing to one side, saw them go by. It had all turned out wonderfully. She felt so glad for Mrs. Mottingley, and for Jimmy. And then, as she turned to find her way out, Mr. Mottingley hurried up behind her.
“I’ve left my wife to her boy and to Miss Silver. I wanted to thank you, my dear.”
The bright colour came into her cheeks.
“Oh, Mr. Mottingley!” she said.
“And I’d like you to know that we don’t want you to stop being friends with Jimmy. A house like yours is just what he needs-young people’s society and all that. And we hope you’ll come to our house, too, you and Len. You will, won’t you?”
“I shall be very pleased to, Mr. Mottingley.”
“My wife would like you to come. We’ve brought the boy up too strict -I can see that now. If you pull the rein too tightly you’ve a nervous horse-” He broke off with half a laugh. “That sounds strange coming from me, but I grew up on a farm, and it comes back when you’re moved. Good-bye, my dear.”
He left her standing there and went off to join his wife and Jimmy.
Chapter XLVI
At Alington House Jenny sat and waited for the news. Miss Silver would ring up, she knew that, and she knew what the news would be. But supposing-just supposing- Her thought broke off. It broke off because she broke it off. She would not go on to suppose such failure of justice as would keep Jimmy Mottingley in any danger. All the same it would be nice to know that they could put away the unhappy past and go on into something better.
The last few days had been very trying. She did not know what she would have done without Richard and Miss Danesworth. She had stood between the little girls and all the worst of it, and Richard and Miss Danesworth had sheltered her as much as they could. It was lovely to have them. When she thought what it would have been like to have to stand alone her thoughts just blacked out. She could have done it, because you can do anything that you’ve got to do, but she was profoundly grateful that she did not have to stand alone. For one thing, Miss Crampton would have been very hard to deal with. She had faded away before Miss Danesworth’s presence, and Richard coming in when he did had completed her discomfiture. Now that she had been routed Jenny could feel sorry for her. Once you have seen the softer side of anyone you can never go back to seeing them as they were. It was difficult to put into words, but it was in your mind.
Richard came into the room, and she put out a hand to him.
“It’s so long waiting,” she said with a little break in her voice. “You don’t think anything can have gone wrong, do you?”
“Of course nothing has gone wrong! Don’t be silly, child! What could go wrong?”
“I don’t know. Miss Silver said she would ring up when it was all over.”
“Then she will. I like Miss Silver. She’s bed-rock solid.”
“Oh, Richard! That sounds as if she was one of those stout, hard people with bright red cheeks and the sort of eyes that pop out a little! Not the kind of person she is at all-neat, and old-fashioned, and governessy -only that I’ve never really come across a governess. People don’t have them nowadays, but in Garsty’s old books they did. But Miss Silver isn’t really like anyone.”
“No, I don’t think she is,” said Richard. He sat down with his arm round her. “Relax, darling. It’s all right-it really is.”
“I keep thinking of-of her,” said Jenny.
“Not Mrs. Forbes? Don’t, my dear!”
“I can’t help it,” said Jenny. “Oh, Richard, please let me talk about it. It all seems so dreadful. And the most dreadful part of it is that no one really misses her. Carter cried when she went down to the inquest. She admired her, but she didn’t really love her. And her friends-I don’t believe one of them really cared. They were shocked when she shot herself, but they didn’t really care-not really.”
Richard hesitated. Then he said,
“When something like this happens people either rush in and find they are not wanted, or they stay away and pretend that they haven’t noticed. I think you would find that they don’t know quite what to do. Don’t get bitter about it, darling.”
“I’m not. I just thought it would be rather lonely if it wasn’t for you and Caroline.”
“Well, you’ve got us,” said Richard. “You’ve got us for keeps, and don’t you forget it.”
“Oh, Richard, you’re such a comfort!” said Jenny with the tears in her eyes.
And then the telephone bell rang. Jenny was out of her seat in a moment, her breathing quickened and the colour in her cheeks coming and going. She heard Miss Silver say,
“Is that you, my dear?”
“Oh, yes. Yes-yes, it is. Oh, do tell me! What has happened?”
Miss Silver’s voice came clear along the wire.
“It is all right, my dear. There is nothing for you to be worried about. Dicky Pratt gave his evidence very well indeed. I went over with him and Mrs. Pratt. He really could not have done better. And I think he enjoyed himself.”
“He would,” said Jenny.
“Yes, I remember that you said so. A boy of his age does not apprehend the seriousness of the position. Mr. Fulbrook gave evidence, and James Mottingley. He did very well indeed. I do not think that he could have failed to convince everyone in the court that he was quite innocent of that poor girl’s death. And then Inspector Abbott came into the witness-box and gave his evidence. You know what that was. It cleared Mr. Mottingley completely, and he was discharged. And now, my dear, how is it with you? You have Miss Danesworth and Mr. Richard Forbes with you, have you not? I am afraid that this has been a sad and very trying time for you. You must look forward to the brighter days which lie ahead. Good-bye, my dear.”
The click of the receiver sounded. Miss Silver was gone. One moment she was there, so much herself, so kind, so efficient, and so helpful, and the next she was gone. She was quite gone. It gave Jenny a curious feeling of unreality.
She hung up the receiver and turned to Richard. He put an arm about her.
“Yes, I heard,” he said. “Mottingley has had a hard time.”