THE KITCHEN AT the Hall was always warm, sometimes too warm in summer, when Beattie had the Aga turned up high for cooking. This morning, the weather had changed and a sharp wind blew around the stable yard.
“Lunch at the usual time?” said Theo, back to the Aga, warming himself. The Hall was a draughty old place, and he remembered his father doing exactly the same thing when his mother took over the cooking on staff days off. Perhaps Beattie should have a day off? He had never thought of this before. She was always so much in charge that he had just assumed she organised her free time to suit herself.
“Beattie,” he said now. “Why don’t you have a day off tomorrow? I can manage perfectly well. You can take the car. Maybe you could look up old friends in Oakbridge. Or explore the National Trust place nearby? I believe they’ve done a lot of work there. It would do you good,” he continued, “you’ve been looking a little peaky lately.”
And no wonder, thought Beattie. You try being up against a conspiracy! But she thanked him politely and said it was a good idea, but not tomorrow as she would need to make arrangements. Perhaps next Sunday. She would give it some thought.
After lunch, Theo wandered once more into the kitchen, sure that Rose Budd would be here any moment. To his dismay, he found Beattie, still in her working clothes, reading the newspaper. Usually at this time on Saturdays she had cleared away dishes, changed and tidied herself ready for market. He looked at his watch.
“Beattie!” he said. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Theo. Oh yes, of course, that reminds me,” she said. “I shan’t be going into town this afternoon. You’ll remember I said how disappointing the market is these days. I thought I’d give it a miss today. Plenty of food in the larder, so we shan’t starve.”
She was delighted with his reaction, which could only be described as one of complete panic.
“But Rosebud? Won’t she be expecting to come?”
Beattie shook her head. “I gave her a ring just now. She’s quite happy about it. In fact, she sounded rather relieved and said how much she had to do at home. Rang off quite quickly, saying she’d tackle the ironing straightaway.”
“I see,” Theo said. “Well, it’s your decision.” He left the kitchen at a trot, and Beattie chuckled quietly to herself. Wonderful. Now, if she had timed it correctly, Deirdre Bloxham would be on her way.
IVY HAD WOKEN with the pain in her back returned. Mrs. Spurling said the wind was very cold this morning, and advised Ivy to stay in the warm. “We have a lovely lady coming in to play the piano for a sing-song,” she had said. “I am sure you and Mr. Goodman will love the old songs.”
As Ivy was well aware that a frog in full croak was more tuneful than her singing voice, she said she thought she would stay in her own room. She had a novel she wanted to finish before the library van came to the village next week. Then she had rung Deirdre to see if it was vital this time for her to sit outside the shop in the cold wind just to see Beatrice Beatty safely on the bus. Deirdre had said straightaway that she was sure all would go as before, and she must stay in the warm. She had not thought it necessary to tell Gus, and concentrated on making herself as attractive as possible.
Gus had forgotten to check on Beattie going off down the lane, but consoled himself that Ivy would be there to play her part as before. He kept a watch at the window, waiting for the car to go by, and smiled to himself as he saw Deirdre wave to him as she passed.
BEATTIE ALSO SAW the Rolls as it swept into the stable yard and Deirdre got out. She waited out of sight until there was a confident knocking. She paused for a few seconds, and then she opened the door.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Bloxham. Can I help you?” she said, presiding confidently over her territory. Deirdre’s expression was one of the most gratifying things she had ever seen.