‘Wouldn’t it be terrible?’ Loopy asked, laughing suddenly. ‘Wouldn’t it be terrible if Waldo had sold his house to Markham by mistake, Hugh? I mean if we have all been duped, after all that?’
‘Anything’s possible, my darling, but as it happens I very much doubt it. This morning I called on the new people to ask them to drinks after church on Sunday morning.’
‘That was certainly very previous of you, Hugh. They’ve hardly moved in.’
‘It certainly was very previous of me,’ Hugh agreed. ‘But it means I am in the privileged position of being able to tell you that the new occupant of Cucklington House is a woman, and . . .’ He paused. ‘Very beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that I fear a great many noses are going to be put out of joint whenever, or if ever, she pops to the village shop or attends the Yacht Club Ball. She is tall and dark-haired with large blue eyes of a fascinating hue, and, from the brief time I spent with her, sweet-natured too.’
Loopy sighed with sudden satisfaction. She had been feeling rather low, since Waldo had left Bexham. Now the very idea of a great beauty moving into Cucklington House seemed just what was needed. For a start great beauties nearly always caused excitement, and very often envy. And then, too, if the great beauty was single, or divorced, she would be certain to be in need of some sort of male company. Loopy started to run through in her mind any single men in the village who might be interested in a rich beauty. For a few hilarious seconds she realised that the only person she could think of who was currently not spoken for was Richards at the Three Tuns and he could hardly be expected to be interested. She frowned as the name of a man came to her. He was handsome, rich and single, and most certainly, as far as she knew, in need of a wife. She put down her martini glass, and made a note on the pad she kept on the table beside her chair.
The note read Write to Waldo.
THE END
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The Moon At Midnight Page 37
