COLONEL NOAH

OTHER CHAPTERS

CHAPTER 3

'Monica! Come away from that window and finish your breakfast. If Mrs Blount or the Colonel see you they'll think you're being nosey.'

'But I am being nosey, Daphne. Another huge load of cement has been delivered. Oh, Daph, what can the Colonel be up to? I'll burst if I don't find out soon.'

Monica Teesdale tripped lightly over to the breakfast table and sat down. She was well into middle age but her bird-like movements and slightly breathless way of speaking made her seem much younger. She wore a floral patterned skirt and white blouse over which was a blue apron. Her hair was mousy fair with grey, straight, cheek-length with a fringe.

'Oh, Daph, you must be just the teeniest weeniest bit interested.' She cocked her head on one side.' I peeped through the fence you know and he's dug up all his veggies and you know he always has plenty of carrots and things because he always gives us some every year doesn't he? He gives us cabbages and sprouts and onions.'

'What the Colonel does in his own back garden is nothing to do with us, Monica. I hope they haven't seen you looking through the fence.'

'Oh, no Daph, I always wait until he's gone for his morning paper with Jasper before I go and look. He's late this morning you see because of the delivery. Poor Jasper has been locked in the kitchen out of the way. Mrs Blount won't like all that dirt treading into the house will she? She won't be pleased to get cement instead of leeks and carrots.' Monica giggled at her own joke. 'Will she know why the Colonel has dug up his garden?'

'No doubt he will tell Mrs Blount what she needs to know. She is only a servant, after all.'

'But, Daph. you know Mrs Blount has been with the Colonel for years, even before Elspeth died. She loves the Colonel, she says she would rather cut off her right arm than desert him when he needs her.'

'No, she doesn't love him Monica. She must feel a certain loyalty towards him after being with the family for so long. She has her own husband and family to look after too.'

Outwardly Daphne Teesdale looked exactly what she was, the headmistress of a large secondary school in the town, but inside she was thinking, 'My God, how am I going to manage without going completely mad when I retire in July?'

She had thought that the long school holidays would have prepared her for retirement, but now she realised that they were different. Holidays were always planned. They went to Jersey for a fortnight in the Summer and then at Christmas they had cousins to stay. There was always school work to be done, planning for next term, writing letters to parents, governors and looking after a thousand and one jobs which the school demanded. Now, now God help her, the thought of Monica's fixation with trivia, her 'dog with a bone' attitude to certain subjects, her endless prattle would be too much to bear for the next fifteen to twenty years.

'Are you cross with me for saying Mrs Blount loves the colonel? I didn't mean she loves him you know, I meant she must be fond of him. Is that better? You always tell me to think before I speak. Yes, She must be fond of him to stay there and work when she has her own family. I stay here and work while you go to school because I love you though, don't I Daph? Are you cross?'

'No dear, of course I'm not cross. I do know what you mean about Mrs Blount and you were quite right to think it over and find a better word . . . She must be fond of the Colonel after all these years.'

'You're not fond of him though are you, Daph?' asked Monica.

It surprised Daphne sometimes that Monica could be so astute in some ways and so backward in others. It was true she wasn't fond of the Colonel and Monica was the cause of the aversion. He had hinted several times over the years they had been neighbours that Monica was not up to staying on her own all day without supervision. That was utterly ridiculous of course, the man knew nothing about Monica or her condition. She was perfectly capable of leading a normal life providing she kept to a routine and knew exactly what she had to do. If an emergency arose she could use the telephone. She did the housework and shopping if simple lists were made and adhered to. Of course Daphne's short hours and long holidays meant that she was often at home. The next door neighbour could be relied on to help.

Daphne held the Wedgewood teapot over her cup and looked back into the past.

Their father had been headmaster of the local grammar school, a pillar of society. A caring human being with just the right touch of sternness which made him an ideal head.

He was proud of his clever elder daughter and made a pet of the younger one. It wasn't until Monica was about seven years old that they realised that she wasn't just a slow starter. Father had found this unacceptable for a long time even though he met all the levels of intelligence at school.

All went well until Mother had died suddenly just as Daphne finished college and was starting her first teaching job. Monica had to be guarded, guided and protected, and who better to do this than sister Daphne, still living at home?

So the pattern of their days had begun and hardly deviated. Daphne used all her excess intelligence and energy getting on in the educational world. She could have become an H.M.I. but that would have meant odd hours and moving around the area. She stayed at home. It was actually easier for her when their father died as two strong wills in one household didn't make a peaceful existence.

Daphne's one excursion into romance had come to an abrupt end, never to be retried. She was then in her early thirties and well established as a lady to be watched in the educational field. The ardent suitor had been one of Daphne's colleagues. He had ambitions too and he saw her as a help towards his goal. She had impeccable credentials, a house ready to move into in a good neighbourhood, and looks and intelligence to match his own. He courted her sensibly and quietly, taking care to do everything in a conventional way as she would expect of a serious suitor.

The Sunday he was invited to tea 'Chez Teesdale' was difficult.

Monica had been primed and she looked the part of a much younger sister, then in her late twenties. Father now retired, knew about the honourable suitor and was looking forward to a bit of male company, quite willing to give pearls of wisdom to a young teacher, to explain how he thought the education system, the Church and the world should be conducted.

Tea, of salad, trifle and cake went well until Monica found the most engrossing topic of conversation - the problem of unwanted babies. She pursued the subject down every road, through 'pass the bread and butter' and 'more tea?' What could be done about these babies, who would feed them, could we build houses for them, were they sold in hot countries, could we buy them?

Father tried to direct the conversation into other areas but Monica would not be diverted. Poor Daphne, try as she might, she could not stop the flow of inane trivia that flowed from Monica's never ceasing lips. Not even Father's stern injunction to be quiet on the subject was any help. He could hardly order her from the table like a child.

The honourable suitor left with a feeling of regret. He could look into the future and imagine himself living with the slightly dotty sister and pontificating father for the rest of his life and bowed out quietly.

Daphne wasn't unduly upset. She let it be known that she was a career woman first and last and set out to be the best. She also knew that the most handsomest most ambitious man still needed to be looked after and she had no wish to add to her quota.

Now here she was at the end of her teaching career wishing she could stay for another five years but the governors had persistently declined her offers. The younger generation were pushing and energetic and full of new curricula ideas.

'Daph, Daph your cup is over-flowing and it's a quarter past eight.'

Daphne came back to the present at the sound of Monica's voice. Come now, she admonished herself, here I am - healthy, intelligent, willing to turn her hand to something new. It might even be a challenge.

She thought about the Colonel as she finished her morning's routine. He had obviously found something different to do and he was several years older than her. If Elspeth had been alive she would know all about it. They had become close friends and often smiled together at the Colonel's army regime and his marching rows of vegetables.

Perhaps Monica should be encouraged to take an interest in the Colonel's back garden. Was she capable of quizzing Mrs Blount without letting out that Daphne wanted to know? It was rather curious, all that cement and timber. What could he be about? She had been so taken up with her retirement that she hadn't taken much notice of Monica's chattering. Handing over to her successor would be a wrench.

Well, at least the new headmaster was being given a well run school. She collected her briefcase and handbag and headed for the door.

'Bye, Monica, see you at teatime, fish tonight it's Friday.'

'I know it's on my list, I will do some gardening today, pull up some weeds.

Daphne considered this, 'If you see Mrs Blount you could ask her about the vegetables.'

'Shall I? I'd really like to. I won't say you want to know though I'll pretend I'm being nosey.'

Daphne kissed her sister's cheek, she smiled. She drove away knowing that Monica would close the door. The journey to school was an oasis of peace for twenty minutes, she never used the radio, it was too intrusive.

She noticed Darren Sharp leaning on the bus stop. Really that boy! If only he would use the brains that God had given him instead of being so idle. She sometimes wished that corporal punishment was still in vogue, just for young men like Darren. He was almost sixteen and had no idea what he wanted to do. Those parents of his were no help at all, too busy making money. And there was Brian Baldwin, no wonder they called him Bunny that's what he looked like, a big fat rabbit. He was always in trouble for pestering the girls, he didn't dare touch the boys. What would become of him silly boy. Still they had another two years to go and after July they would no longer be her problem.

It gave her a jolt to think she would be free of all responsibility, all the pressures of decision making. Life seemed lighter already. There were new challenges if she was willing to take them.

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