Always And Forever by Betty Neels Read Free Book Online Page B

glad of a bit of company for a week or two. A good thing she’s spending the winter with that friend of hers in Italy…’
    Two or three weeks, decided Amabel, walking back, should be enough time to find some kind of work and a place to live. Aunt Thisbe had told her that she was welcome to stay as long as she wanted to, but if she did that would mean her aunt would put off her holiday. Which would never do… She would probably mention it in a day or two—especially if Amabel lost no time in looking for work.
    But a few days went by, and although Amabel reiterated her intention of finding work as soon as possible her aunt made no mention of her holiday; indeed she insisted that Amabel did nothing about it.
    â€˜You need a week or two to settle down,’ she pointed out, ‘and I won’t hear of you leaving until you have decided what you want to do. It won’t hurt you to spend the winter here.’
    Which gave Amabel the chance to ask, ‘But you may have made plans…’
    Aunt Thisbe put down her knitting. ‘And what plans would I be making at my age, child? Now, let us say no more for the moment. Tell me about your mother’s wedding?’
    So Amabel, with Oscar on her lap and Cyril sittingbetween them, told all she knew, and presently they fell to talking about her father, still remembered with love by both of them.
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    Dr Fforde, immersed in his work though he was, nevertheless found his thoughts wandering, rather to his surprise, towards Amabel. It was some two weeks after she had left home that he decided to go and see her again. By now her mother and stepfather would be back and she would have settled down with them and be perfectly happy, all her doubts and fears forgotten.
    He told himself that was his reason for going: to reassure himself that, knowing her to be happy again, he could dismiss her from his mind.
    It was mid-afternoon when he got there, and as he parked the car he saw signs of activity at the back of the house. Instead of knocking on the front door he walked round the side of the house to the back. Most of the orchard had disappeared, and there was a large concrete foundation where the trees had been. Beyond the orchard the ground had been ploughed up; the bench had gone, and the fruit bushes. Only the view beyond was still beautiful.
    He went to the kitchen door and knocked.
    Amabel’s mother stood in the doorway, and before she could speak he said, ‘I came to see Amabel.’ He held out a hand. ‘Dr Fforde.’
    Mrs Graham shook hands. She said doubtfully, ‘Oh, did you meet her when she was doing bed and breakfasts? She’s not here; she’s left.’
    She held the door wide. ‘Come in. My husband will be back very shortly. Would you like a cup of tea?’
    â€˜Thank you.’ He looked around him. ‘There was a dog…’
    â€˜She’s taken him with her—and the cat. My husband won’t have animals around the place. He’s starting up a market garden. The silly girl didn’t like the idea of them being put down—left us in the lurch too; she was going to work for Keith, help with the place once we get started—we are having a big greenhouse built.’
    â€˜Yes, there was an orchard there.’
    He accepted his tea and, when she sat down, took a chair opposite her.
    â€˜Where has Amabel gone?’ The question was put so casually that Mrs Graham answered at once.
    â€˜Yorkshire, of all places—and heaven knows how she got there. My first husband’s sister lives near York—a small village called Bolton Percy. Amabel went there—well, there wasn’t anywhere else she could have gone without a job. We did wonder where she was, but she phoned when she got there… Here’s my husband.’
    The two men shook hands, exchanged a few minutes’ conversation, then Dr Fforde got up to go.
    He had expected his visit to Amabel’s home to