The Bachelor's Wedding

A remark Araminta let pass. ‘What about Mutt and Tibs? Will you let me know if they have to be fed and when—and does Mutt go for a walk during the day?’

‘If you take him on his lead, and he has a biscuit at lunchtime.’

‘Tibs has a meal then too,’ said Gloria. ‘Of course, you don’t belong here so she might run away—then it’ll be your fault.’

Araminta reminded herself silently that this was a job and she was being paid for it. She said equably, ‘Oh, I like cats, but if you don’t like to leave her in my care perhaps we could find a good cattery where she would be safe.’

Jimmy frowned at his sister. ‘Tibs will be OK—you’re being a bit silly.’

‘And rude,’ added Araminta mildly.

They weren’t an easy pair to handle; they loitered over their breakfast, had a last-minute hunt for school-books, and their rooms, when she went upstairs to make the beds, were in a state of chaos. ‘Patty must be an angel,’ observed Araminta to Tibs, who was comfortably snoozing on Gloria’s bed. At least she had the house to herself while she vacuumed and dusted, hung the washing on the line at the bottom of the garden and gave the kitchen a good clean. Jimmy had said something about a Mrs Pretty, who came twice a week, but perhaps Mrs Gault had told her not to come while she was away. Araminta, armed with a shopping-basket and the household purse and with Mutt on his lead, took herself off to the village to buy lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes. The children wanted baked beans for their supper; she intended to add bubble-and-squeak and a small salad. As for their demands for Coca-Cola, she had different ideas. Without conceit she knew that her home-made lemonade was perfection itself. She added lemons to her basket at the village stores and replied suitably to the proprietor’s questions. Mr Moody was stout and bald and good-natured, and he liked a chat.