A Christmas Romance by Betty Neels

‘You’re not on duty over the weekend, are you?’
    ‘No, sir, just finishing a job.’
    ‘You live close by?’ asked the professor idly.
    ‘Clapham Common. I’m meeting my girlfriend and we’ll go home together. I live at home but she’s spending Christmas with us.’
    ‘Ah, yes. There’s nothing like a family gathering. You’re planning to marry.’
    ‘Well, as soon as Dorothy’s sold her flat—her parents are dead. Once it’s sold we shall put our savings together and find something around Clapham.’
    ‘Well, I wish you the best of luck and a happy Christmas!’
    The professor went on his unhurried way, leaving the young man with the impressionthat he wasn’t such a bad old stick after all, despite his frequent requests for tests at a moment’s notice.
    The professor went back to his office; ten minutes’ work would clear up the last odds and ends of his work for the moment. He had no idea why Theodosia had spun such a wildly imaginative set of fibs but he intended to find out. Even if she had left at five o’clock she would hardly have had the time to change and pack her bag and see to Gustavus.
    He was actually at the door when he was bleeped …
    Theodosia hurried home. Miss Prescott, true to form, had kept her busy until the very last minute, which meant that catching the early train was an impossibility. She would phone the aunts and say that she would be on the later train. Once in her room she fed an impatient Gustavus, changed into her second-best dress, brushed her coat, found her hat and,since she had time to spare, put on the kettle for a cup of tea. It would probably be chilly on the train and there would be a lot of waiting round for buses once she got to Braintree.
    She was sipping her tea when someone knocked on the door, the knock followed by Mrs Towzer’s voice. Theodosia asked her in, explaining at the same time that she was just about to leave for her train.
    ‘Won’t keep you then, love. Forgot to give you this letter—came this morning—in with my post. Don’t suppose it’s important. ‘Ave a nice time at your auntys’. ‘Aving a bit of a party this evening; must get meself poshed up. The ‘ouse’ll be empty, everyone off ‘ome.’ They exchanged mutual good wishes and Mrs Towzer puffed her way down the stairs.
    The letter was in Great-Aunt Mary’s spidery hand. Surely not a last-minute request to shop for some forgotten article? Unless it was something she could buy at the station there was no time for anything else.
    Theodosia sat down, one eye on the clock, and opened the letter.
    She read it and then read it again. Old family friends, an archdeacon and his wife, had returned to England from South America, wrote Aunt Mary. Their families were in Scotland and they did not care to make such a long journey over the holiday period.
    ‘Your aunt Jessica and I have discussed this at some length and we have agreed that it is our duty to give these old friends the hospitality which our Christian upbringing expects of us. Christmas is a time for giving and charity,’ went on Aunt Mary, and Theodosia could almost hear her vinegary voice saying it. As Theodosia knew, continued her aunt, the accommodation at the cottage was limited, and since she had no lack of friends in London who would be only too glad to have her as a guest over Christmas they knew she would understand. ‘We shall, of course, miss you …’
    Theodosia sat quite still for a while, lettingher thoughts tumble around inside her head, trying to adjust to surprise and an overwhelming feeling that she wasn’t wanted. Of course she had friends, but who, on Christmas Eve itself, would invite themselves as a guest into a family gathering?
    Presently she got up, counted the money in her purse, got her shopping bag from behind the door, assured Gustavus that she would be back presently and left the house. There was no one around; Mrs Towzer was behind closed doors getting ready for the party. She walked quickly