SADIE BROOMFIELD WAS very surprised to see a figure standing by her car as she returned from the supermarket. She was shortsighted, and could not see exactly who it was. Surely not a policewoman! She had definitely put money in the machine and the ticket was on her car’s dashboard, visible to anyone.
As she got nearer, she saw that it was Miss Beatty from the Hall. What on earth was she doing there? Not my favourite person, she said to herself. Nobody’s favourite person. Still, if the woman was in trouble, it was her neighbourly duty to help.
“Miss Beatty!” she said. “Can I help you?”
Beattie explained that she needed to get back early to the village. “Something’s come up, I’m afraid, and I must be back as soon as possible. I knew you were in town most Saturdays, and hoped to find you. I recognised your car, of course,” she added, as pleasantly as she could. “Such a sensible little vehicle,” she added.
Sadie’s car was a bright red Smart Sport, and she was very proud of it. “Delighted to give you a lift,” she said. “Jump in, while I stow my shopping. There’s room for all,” she said. This was an exaggeration, but in due course she, Beattie and the shopping were shoehorned in, and they set off.
Conversation was difficult. Sadie had never spent more than two minutes in Beattie’s company, and now had nothing to say to her. She had tried asking what the emergency was, but got no answer. Miss Beatty was silent for at least half of the return journey, until she said suddenly, “Do you know Mrs. Bloxham?”
“Only by sight,” Sadie said. “Seems a nice enough woman. She always smiles.”
“Huh!” said Beattie. “She won’t be smiling when I get home.”
Sadie was about to ask her more about this odd remark, when a loud bang followed by a series of bumps caused her to stop the car and pull into the side. She got out, and her heart sank. It would happen this afternoon, when she had that unpleasant passenger! A flat tyre, and the first one since she had bought the car. She had no idea how to change it, nor did she intend to try.
Beattie had clambered out and came round to see what had happened. She saw the flat tyre, and said, “Now what do you intend to do? I must get home as quickly as possible.”
Sod you, thought Sadie, and considered telling her to walk. Instead, she dialled the AA rescue service, and explained to Beattie that they would have to wait until an engineer arrived. “Or you could thumb a lift from this lorry coming along,” she said nastily.
Beattie said nothing would persuade her to ride in a lorry with a strange man, and stood with her arms folded, watching while Sadie delved into the car pockets and slots to find the technical instructions for the car.
Time passed, and the AA still did not arrive. Sadie wondered if Beattie needed the loo. It had been a long day, and she had stood vigil by the car, waiting for Sadie to finish her shopping.
As if reading her thoughts, Beattie said that she had noticed a cottage a hundred yards back, and thought she would take a walk to see if she could use their toilet. “Don’t go without me!” she said, and set off at a fast pace. On the way, the bus from town passed her, and the driver waved merrily. She signalled violently, but he did not stop. Probably against the rules, she thought sourly, and trudged on.
Meanwhile, Sadie had had a call from the AA, apologising for the delay, but saying the engineer was now on his way. From where? Sadie had asked. Birmingham, said the girl.
Sadie looked in her driving mirror. No sign of Beattie returning, so she must have been lucky. The bus passed by, but Sadie could see that they had not stopped for her. She supposed she had better telephone the Hall and let them know what had happened. Mr. Roussel would be wondering where his housekeeper had got to. She had the number in her head from times when she was working in the shop and had to consult Beattie on their order.
“Hello? Who is that?” Rose Budd answered, sounding worried. Sadie explained, and Rose said she had to get home to the family, but was sure Mr. Theo would be fine by himself until Beattie returned. He was in a very good mood, she said, and giggled. Sadie was puzzled, but much more worried about her car, and so thanked Rose and ended the call.
The AA man arrived an hour later. Once there, he fixed the tyre swiftly, and they were once more on their way. Beattie had relapsed into a sullen silence, and Sadie was heartily relieved when she drove round into the stable yard and helped Beattie out of the car.
As she drove back down the long drive, Sadie reflected on her passenger’s failure to say thank you for the lift. After all, Sadie had been hijacked. Ah well, she thought, that’ll teach her to cadge lifts in future. She smiled to herself. It was obvious the poor woman had not been missed. She remembered the giggle. Had Rose Budd and Mr. Roussel been up to no good? Well, good luck to them, Sadie thought, and as she unpacked her shopping she looked forward to a restoring cup of tea.
BEATTIE ENTERED THE Hall and went straight to her kitchen. Everything in order. She lifted the kettle and filled it, wondering how she was going to explain the delay to Mr. Theo. He would want to know what made her come back with Sadie Broomfield instead of catching the usual bus. It would have to be a sudden illness, she decided. After all, she had nearly fainted this morning, but she was not sure he had even noticed. She heard his footsteps on the tiled hallway, and looked apprehensively at the door.
“Ah, there you are!” he said. “Did you have a good time? Met a friend, did you?” He was beaming, and she was so surprised that for once she could think of nothing to say.
“Well, you’re home now, and needing a cup of tea, I’m sure. No, no,” he added, as she asked if he would like tea, though it was a little late. “No, I have been well looked after,” he said, and chuckled. “I thought I’d have a stroll in the park. Should have a dog again. We must get a dog, Beattie,” he said, and disappeared.
A stroll in the park? A dog? A nasty, snappy little terrier, no doubt. Beattie sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. What was going on? The wonderful security she had made for herself at the Hall was falling apart. A tear fell on the scrubbed surface, and she rubbed it away quickly. This would not do. It would take more than a young woman with no conscience to defeat Beatrice Beatty. For a start, she thought, the Budd family were entirely reliant on her for their cushy cottage in Hangman’s Row, and Rose’s husband took his orders from her.
Then she remembered Theo’s sudden decision to have a word with David Budd this morning. Was this start of a new regime?
No matter, she said to herself. I’ll fight them all. I’ve fought my way out of tricky situations before, and I’ll do it again. There are one or two things I could mention to Mr. Theo that might make him think twice about undermining my position.
Feeling more cheerful, she went upstairs to draw curtains in the rooms he would be using later this evening. As she entered his bedroom, she paused. She sniffed, and walked over to the bed. It was rumpled. Not significantly, just the counterpane not quite straight, not as smooth as she had left it this morning. She sniffed again. She had smelled that perfume before, but could not remember where. She perched on the edge of the bed, overcome with dizziness once more.