‘That sort of thing passes you by when you’re a youngster,’ agreed Walter. ‘Hello, my children, what have you two been up to? Nothing naughty, I hope.’
‘Just chatting,’ said Ethel airily. She turned to Florence. ‘Aunty Rosie asks if you two would like to eat here again tomorrow. And if you want to, you can stay the night. She says your place will be freezing, with no-one in it.’
‘Not that this one isn’t,’ muttered Helen, who was toasting herself before the fire. ‘How I put up with it when we lived here, I don’t know.’
‘You were a hot-blooded young thing in those days,’ said Harry
‘Thank you, dear. Now I suppose I’m an old lizard.’
‘Lizards have four legs,’ objected Archie, ‘and a tail that comes off.’
‘It’s a metaphor, stupid,’ said Lydia. She was sitting at the folding table with him, doing a jigsaw puzzle.
‘What do you think, then?’ said Florence. ‘Though I’d gladly cook, of course.’
‘The invitation is from your grandmother, presumably?’ said Alf.
‘I suppose so,’ shrugged Ethel. ‘She wasn’t in the kitchen when I went in. It’s bedlam in there, full of aunties rushing about like mad things, and there’s an old chap named Jeremy sitting by the range. Auntie Beatrice says they’re airing him. I offered my services but they were declined. To help prepare the feast, I mean, not to air Jeremy.’
‘We were kicked out as well,’ said Helen. ‘No guests allowed. I must say, I rather envy Jeremy.’
‘I’m glad they’ve got him in,’ said Harry. ‘That cottage of his reeks of damp. Is he coughing?’
‘Not that I noticed.’
‘Well?’ said Florence to Alf.
‘Yes, all right,’ smiled Alf. ‘I’d best go and accept.’
‘I think it was rather assumed you’ll be staying,’ said Ethel. ‘They said they’d feed the gee-gees.’
‘I’ll have to go home and see to a few things though, after we’ve eaten. They’ll be expecting us back tonight.’
‘If you’re doing that,’ said Helen, ‘can Harry come back with you and use your telephone. I’m worried about the shop.’
‘Yes, of course, if it’s working.’
‘Will you help us with this puzzle, Charles,’ said Lydia. ‘It’s quite a difficult one.’
‘We both will,’ said Ethel firmly.
‘It helps to do the outside pieces first,’ offered Walter, wandering over to look.
‘We know that,’ said Lydia with asperity.
‘Lydia, don’t be rude to Cousin Walter,’ said Archie.
Chapter Six
‘Dinner is served,’ announced Rosie, and arrayed in their Christmas finery they processed ceremonially to the dining room, now bright and welcoming, with a log fire blazing in the grate and the snow-light glinting on glass and silver.
‘May I escort you in, Mrs Gray?’ said Walter, bowing to her.
‘You may indeed sir,’ smiled Florence.
‘Ethel?’ said Alf, offering an arm.
‘Delighted, Mr Brown,’ said Ethel.
‘Will you escort me in, Charles?’ said Lydia.
‘Why certainly Miss Falkner,’ said Charles. But it was Ethel he sat next to, leaving Lydia to sulk between Archie and her father.
Hannah arrived on her handcart. ‘We must put you at the head of the table, Mother,’ said Rosie, manoeuvring her into place. ‘As is right and proper.’
‘As you wish, dear,’ said Hannah, smiling beatifically.
Harry, who found this maternal transfiguration increasingly disturbing, exchanged glances with Helen. ‘There’ll be tears before bedtime,’ he muttered ‘See if there aren’t.’
A bustle of aunties came and went with plates and dishes, culminating in two fat geese borne on high by Delia and Beatrice. Then, turbans and pinnies removed, they joined their guests.
‘That smells delicious,’ said Harry. ‘Who is going to carve?’
‘I am,’ said Delia, adding pointedly, ‘in the absence of a man in the household.’
‘I’ll do it if you want.’
‘No, you’re a guest.’
‘I love your headband, Lydia,’ said Alison. ‘Is that what girls are wearing this year?’
‘She’s a flapper,’ said Walter authoritatively. ‘They roll their stockings down and rouge their knees. It was in the paper.’
‘Walter, you’ll embarrass the child,’ said Florence disapprovingly.
‘Sorry, Lydia. I’m sure you wouldn’t do that.’
‘I might,’ said Lydia defensively.
‘Anyway, she’s a Red Indian, because of the feather,’ said Archie, letting out a war cry.
‘Not at the table, Archie,’ said Helen.
‘Is anybody working at your place today?’ Walter asked Alf.
‘Yes, the cowman and milkers,’ said Alf, gazing around the table. ‘Who has the apple sauce? Thanks, Helen. They take it in turns to work over Christmas. And if I see no-one else, I must have a word with Dave, our shepherd, although he’d probably have come to me by now if there was digging out to be done. Nowhere deep enough, I doubt. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour or so otherwise.’
‘Digging them out of the drifts, do you mean?’
‘Yes. Not much fun.’
Walter pulled a face. ‘Think I’ll stick to selling cars.’
‘You have to be born to it, I think,’ smiled Alf, glancing out of the window. ‘Hello, you have a visitor.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Alison, suddenly blushing scarlet.
There was muffled conversation in the hall, seeming to pass into the parlour then back again. ‘Just to say hello,’ they heard her say, and she brought into the room a tall, lean man of about her own age. ‘This is Albert Little,’ she announced. ‘He’s an old friend of mine. I won’t introduce you to everyone now, Albert. You’ll know some of them already of course.’
‘I’m so sorry to disturb your meal, Mrs Falkner,’ said Albert. ‘I was fortunate enough to get the offer of a lift or I shouldn’t have troubled you on Christmas Day.’
Looking their visitor up and down, Hannah seemed not especially surprised at his arrival. ‘How do you do, Mr Little?’ Have you eaten?’
‘Not since I left home,’ admitted Albert.
‘Then sit down and join us.’
‘I’ll fetch you a chair,’ said Charles, rising.
‘There’s another in the hall,’ said Beatrice.
‘Hello, Little,’ said Harry, rising to shake his hand. Been a few years, eh? Nice to see you again. Do I take it the roads are open now?’
‘I doubt if they’re open to motor traffic,’ said Albert. ‘I came on a dog-cart from the railway station. I don’t recall seeing any cars at all.’
‘Ah! I’ve placed you now,’ said Alf affably. ‘You worked at Driffield’s before the war, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I did,’ said Albert, smiling his thanks to Charles for the chair. ‘I remember you too, of course. Seems a lifetime ago now.’
‘Still in farming?’
‘No, I’ve got a milk round. It gets me outside, which I prefer, and the money’s not bad.’
‘Must be quite a change after prison,’ said Hannah sweetly. ‘Didn’t they feed you in there? You’re all skin and bone.’
◆◆◆
‘That was a really horrid thing to say,’ said Delia, drying the last plate and putting it in the rack. ‘If she wasn’t my own mother, I’d call it wicked.’
‘I’d call it wicked anyway, after the letter business,’ said Beatrice. ‘Wicked and cruel. She might at least have considered Ali’s feelings if not Albert’s. She was crying when she left the house, and no wonder.’
‘I’m not defending her,’ said Rosie. ‘Don’t think that. But she’d no doubt argue that she di
d it for the best. The letter, I mean.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Beatrice. ‘She couldn’t have known he’d end up in prison when she forged it. And if he’d married Ali he might not have gone to prison. Marriage might have been the making of him. She’s wicked and I’m sticking to it. Where have they gone anyway?’
‘Jeremy’s cottage. He was all for going home but I think she’s managed to persuade him to stay, at least until the morning. He seems very polite and gentle and even bought Mother some chocs, which she doesn’t deserve.’
‘Have you found out what he did? To get locked up, I mean.’
‘No. It’s difficult isn’t it? But it couldn’t have been anything too heinous as he was only in for two years. I tried to get him back in the house but he wouldn’t come.’
◆◆◆
‘We could ride down, if you like,’ said Alf, pausing at the front door. ‘I can take Florence’s mount and pretend I’m a lady.’
Harry shook his head. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to walk. It’ll be good to stretch my legs for a bit and escape the dreadful atmosphere. For which, of course, I sincerely apologise. Must have been embarrassing for you both.’
Alf smiled sympathetically. ‘You don’t have to do that. I’ve known your mother all my life, don’t forget. She’s a good sort, mostly.’
‘She’s a twisted, crabby old woman and you know it. It’s my father’s fault, of course, and my sisters are suffering for it. Lydia wanted to know why none of them ever married. I could hardly tell her that her grandmother frightened away all their suitors. You never know what that child is going to say next, for one thing. I see some evidence, however, that the worm is finally turning.’
‘Yes, I noticed that. About time too. And Albert Little is the proof, of course.’
‘I’d like to know what he did to get himself locked up, though. Bit of a worry, having him about the place.’
‘Had a temper on him, I seem to remember. Probably beat some fellow in a brawl. What will you do if you’re stuck here?’
‘I’m hoping Helen’s parents will rally round. That’s if I can get hold of them. You’ll still be coming tomorrow, will you? You haven’t been put off?’
‘With Delia cooking? Try getting rid of us!’
◆◆◆
‘Hello piggy,’ said Ethel, making snorting noises. ‘You’re a fine big chap.’
‘Somewhat less than a chap,’ said Charles, who was standing at the other end of it. ‘Not fully equipped.’
Ethel smiled. ‘Castrated, do you mean? You don’t have to worry about my feminine sensitivities; I’m quite earthy really. Nor am I particularly squeamish. I expect it’s in the blood — farmer’s daughter and all that. Though I don’t like knees very much, talking of knees. Horrid things, I hate mine. The last thing I’d want to do is rouge them.’
‘Good,’ said Charles.
‘Good that I don’t want to rouge my knees?’
‘Good that you’re not squeamish.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I’m a doctor. Might be awkward. Anyway, you have beautiful knees. They should be cast in bronze and mounted on a plaque.’
Ethel laughed. ‘I don’t know what Archie would say to this conversation.’
‘I can guess.’
They wandered the yard and buildings for a while. Neither eager to brave the atmosphere indoors.
‘It’s difficult to imagine your father as a farmer,’ said Charles. ‘He’s far too urbane.’
‘Alf Brown is a farmer. Isn’t he urbane?’
‘Not sure in his case. He’s more of a gentleman farmer, isn’t he, with his fancy horses and so on? A master of men. He says go and they goeth.’
‘As opposed to a castrator of pigs, do you mean? I don’t think Dad would want to be either anymore. He likes being a shopkeeper. Warm, clean and indoors, and people to chat to. He’s a great gasser.’
‘How did he come to have a shop?’
‘It was my mother’s idea. They lived here after they were married and Mum hated it and when Dad was called up, we went to live with my grandmother in Surrey. Gran lent her some money and they built it up from scratch. We never came back here. What about your father?’
‘Rather similar really. He’s an accountant but saw the potential in cars. He imported a couple when he was left some money and never looked back.’
‘But you wanted to be a doctor.’
‘Yes, always, from when my mother died. I had this belief I could have saved her, although I realise now that I couldn’t.’
Ethel took his hand. ‘Poor Charles, I’m so sorry. Do you think you might have been working for your father, if things had been different?’
‘And getting rich? Yes, I suppose so. Would you want me to do that?’
‘I’d want what makes you happiest.’
Charles drew her to him. ‘Ethel.’
‘Yes?’
‘Kiss me again.’
◆◆◆
The four sisters were sitting glumly together in the kitchen. Alison, in the chair vacated by Jeremy, was hunched over the range.
‘I can’t stop shivering,’ she said. ‘I’m not cold really.’
‘She ought to be ashamed of herself,’ said Rosie. ‘They seem to be pretending it didn’t happen or it didn’t matter that it did. I suppose they’ve no choice, with her being there. You’d think she’d have the decency to clear off to her room for an hour or two. She must know what she’s done, surely?’
‘She knows all right,’ said Beatrice. ‘I never thought she’d reformed. She’s not just nasty now, she’s nasty and two-faced. She’s not my mother as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Beatrice! You mustn’t say that. She’s still our mother whatever she does.’
‘You’re forgetting Peter Braintree. He hasn’t got in touch with me, not like some.’
‘Oh, Bea, I haven’t forgotten,’ cried Alison guiltily. ‘You know how sorry I am.’
‘Where is everybody now?’ said Delia, changing the subject. ‘I need to think about tea.’
‘All over the place,’ said Rosie. ‘The lovebirds are wandering about outside, last seen feeding sugar lumps to the horses. Harry and Alf aren’t back yet and Walter and Florence are chatting in the dining room. I’ve kept the fire going for them as they seem dug in. Only Helen and the children are with her at the moment. How is Albert anyway?’
‘He told us,’ sighed Alison. ‘He didn’t want to but Jeremy kept on at him. You couldn’t blame him for that, with him so weak and poorly and not able to defend himself. He’s all right with him now. He’s still talking about leaving. He absolutely refuses to come back indoors.’
‘So, what did he do?’ said Beatrice.
‘You mustn’t say I told you. He’s so embarrassed by it all. He’s not dangerous or anything. Quite the reverse in fact. He went to the aid of a milk customer who was being beaten by her husband and hurt the fellow quite badly. It got him into trouble.’
‘Prison for that!’ said Beatrice, scandalised. ‘The law is an ass.’
‘Do you still like him?’ said Delia. ‘That’s what matters.’
‘I still like him,’ said Alison.
‘But that’s all?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s been fourteen years,’ said Rosie sensibly. ‘You’re not going to fall into each other’s arms.’
‘I suppose I thought we would,’ said Alison. ‘Something like that anyway. I know it was foolish and romantic but I did. Now it’s all spoiled.’
‘If he’s been in prison, he’ll be all to bits very likely. You’ll have to give him time.’
‘Yes, but it’s quite a while since he came out. He was a milkman before and he went back to it.’
‘Then how did your mother find out about it?’
‘Bessie bloody L
iversage, is my guess.’
◆◆◆
‘How is the romance going?’ asked Florence, settling herself on the bed. ‘We haven’t seen you much, which I suppose is a good sign.’
Ethel, peered out at the empty landing, closed the door and locked it. ‘Positively galloping, is the answer to that. I’m quite breathless with it. I suspect he nearly proposed to me this afternoon but shied away at the last moment. He probably realised it was ridiculously soon. Which it is, of course.’
‘Three days! Some might say so. What would you have said if he’d asked you?’
‘Oh, I’d have said yes. I just want it over with so I can relax and enjoy him. It’s so silly, isn’t it? Convention, I mean. I don’t see what time has to do with it at all. Mum said she knew straightaway she wanted Dad and I’m the same. We could always keep it a secret to start with. There doesn’t have to be a ring or announcements in the newspapers.’ She smiled, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I’m gushing like a girl. What must you think of me?’
‘To this old lady you are a girl. You’re not afraid it might just be a holiday thing? He might have someone tucked away at home for aught you know. A pretty nurse, perhaps. He’s terribly handsome.’
‘Oh, don’t say that. I couldn’t bear it! But no, I don’t think so. He’s not that type at all. And where is he going to find someone with my looks and intelligence? I’d knock any silly nurse into a cocked hat.’
Florence laughed. ‘The confidence of youth!’ Her expression became thoughtful. ‘I’ve rather got the opposite problem, as it happens. In the last month I’ve had not one proposal but two.’
‘Goodness! Who is the other one? Walter, I suppose. But he’s too late, isn’t he? You’ve made your choice.’
‘Oh, I’m not going to be bound by that. Not when my future happiness is at stake. I like Alf but I’m not the least in love with him, while I could easily be with Walter. Alf’s a nice man but he’s dreadfully stodgy and dull and I’d probably have no friends in the village since they don’t seem to like me. I don’t know why I came back here really. My parents are dead and my brother lives abroad so I’ve no connection with the place anymore.’
Death Among the Kisses (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 10) Page 4