‘I know she’s got dogs, because your father once said that after the death of her husband she filled the house with dogs so that she didn’t feel so alone. I’m sure she has neighbours, though. There are bound to be other children around for you to play with.’ But she wasn’t sure. Cicely lived in the middle of the Dorset countryside and her husband had been a farmer. In her mind she envisaged rolling hills and forests like the landscape she had seen from the train.
‘I bet she’s just like Daddy,’ said Leonora in an attempt to make her aunt sound more appealing.
‘I bet she is,’ said Audrey encouragingly. But in her mind she imagined a severe woman with a hard face, not unlike Aunt Hilda. To her surprise Aunt Cicely wasn’t at all how they had imagined her to be and neither was her house.
When Audrey first saw the woman waving frantically at the train from the car park beside the station, she didn’t for one moment imagine that that was Aunt Cicely. Her pale hair was pinned up in a loose bun and wisps of it floated around her face in the wind and caught in her mouth that was open and smiling. She wore wide trousers and a man’s stripy blue shirt. No, Cicely, from what she had heard, was more like her husband, elegant with an old-fashioned air of formality. So Audrey thought no more about the waving woman and turned her attention to finding someone to help unload their suitcases. The train drew into the remote country station that resembled a drawing from one of the children’s books Audrey had grown up with. Bowls of overgrown geraniums hung from the awning and the red-bricked building was weathered and old. Audrey led her children onto the almost deserted platform and summoned a porter who busied himself at once with their luggage. ‘Now where’s Aunt Cicely?’ she muttered. But the station was quiet, only a couple of passengers had got off and an old man who had no train to catch sat passing the time on one of the hard benches beneath the awning. She sighed and bit her lip. Had she got the day wrong? Was Aunt Cicely expecting them at all? Then before she could doubt a moment longer the woman who had been waving from the car park hurried onto the platform in a flurry of leaves and wind.
‘Good gracious, I am sorry, Barley’s got an upset stomach. I had to drop him off at the vet for a blood test.’ She embraced Audrey as if she had known her all her life and patted the children on their heads, as if they were dogs. ‘Was your trip over all right? It’s such a long way. You must be exhausted. I’ve had the car cleaned especially, I didn’t think you wanted to be covered in dog hairs on your first day.’ Audrey looked into the feline face of her sister-in-law and felt the colour rise to her cheeks where they burned ferociously. Those pale blue eyes and crooked smile made her head spin. She hadn’t for one moment expected that Cicely might resemble Louis.
‘You’re very kind to come and pick us up,’ Audrey stammered for want of anything better to say.
‘Don’t be silly, I couldn’t leave you to languish on the platform!’ She gave a soft, gentle laugh and looked down at the twins. ‘So you’re my nieces. I hope you like dogs. I have eight. Well, come along then, we can’t keep them waiting.’ Alicia and Leonora, both overcome by the whirlwind of their aunt’s presence, followed her down the platform in silence.
‘Lucky I’ve got a big car,’ she said, lifting the boot of a dusty Volvo so the porter could load the luggage. ‘Goodness me, you have got a lot of things. I suppose you had to buy the dreaded uniform.’
‘We had to buy everything,’ Audrey replied, pushing her children towards the back seat.
‘Well, they don’t need much when they stay with me, just warm jerseys and socks. I don’t heat the house, except for fires and in the winter it’s damned cold.’ She glanced down at the twins and noticed the look of horror on their faces. ‘You can always borrow one of the dogs as a hot water bottle. They’re very happy to lend themselves out when the need is great enough,’ she added and laughed. ‘Right, homeward bound!’
Audrey climbed into the passenger seat then, noticing something hard beneath her, she leant to one side and removed two large dog biscuits. ‘Don’t worry about them, Audrey, I brought them in case I needed to bribe Barley into the vet’s. Fortunately Hilary Phipps turned up at the appropriate moment with her bitch and Barley was as well behaved as a lamb. He’s always had a bit of a thing about her.’
‘She must be a very pretty dog,’ Audrey said, knowing very little about animals.
‘Goodness no, a horrid smelly old thing. Barley’s a young man and very picky when it comes to girlfriends. He’s always been a bit in love with Hilary. I don’t imagine she washes very much,’ she added with a wicked grin.