Lacey spun on her stiletto heel and looked into the other room through the big archway. ‘There’s lots of space in here,’ she said assessingly. ‘Light, too, with those long windows.’
‘The new layout will channel the visitors past the cracker workshop and through the museum displays in these two rooms, before they exit by way of a big Christmas shop.’
‘But I agree with Randal that the workshop and museum are a total waste of valuable retail space,’ she said.
‘Mercy wants the cracker factory to remain the focus of the visitor experience and I think she’s quite right,’ I said firmly.
‘Well, you would, wouldn’t you? For an ex-con you seem to have landed yourself a cushy little number,’ she said tartly.
I gave Randal a glare, since I couldn’t think who else would have revealed my past. I expect he’d told her everything, too. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away.
‘I’m working very hard for my pay, and Mercy’s happy with what I’m doing, which is the important thing,’ I said evenly. ‘But as soon as the mill is open and she doesn’t need my help any more, I’ll be earning my own living, working from one of the new studios. I make papercut pictures.’
‘Oh, you’re an artist,’ she said, as if it was a dirty word. ‘So presumably you’ll be moving out of the house then, too? The fewer hangers-on cluttering the place, like you and the old man, the better.’
‘I don’t see Uncle Silas as a hanger-on. I’m fond of him and Mote Farm is his home now, too,’ Randal said, frowning.
‘But he’s only your aunt’s brother,’ she said, staring at him, wide-eyed and appealing. ‘He’s not really related to you at all, so I don’t know what he’s even doing there.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, we’ll see. I don’t really like old houses – I’d prefer to knock it down and build something fresh and new.’
‘Mote Farm is a listed building so that wouldn’t be an option even if I wanted to do it,’ Randal said, looking startled. ‘I’m not even sure we’d get permission to build a new house on the estate. Probably not.’
‘Oh, I expect I can do something with the interior,’ she said. ‘Make it lighter, more open plan.’
She clearly wasn’t familiar with the intricacies of the Listed Building regulations, but Randal was.
‘I don’t think Mercy would take to that idea,’ he said.
‘Blast, I’d forgotten that she’ll have control over what we can and can’t do to the house,’ Lacey said.
‘But it’s beautiful as it is, Lacey,’ he told her. ‘You just haven’t had a really good look round in daylight yet. Come on, it’s just about lunchtime, let’s go back.’
My tea had gone as cold as Lacey’s heart, but I ate the slice of cake Dorrie had brought me, before I started painting again.
I wasn’t sure a tour of Mote Farm was likely to change Lacey’s mind. Although it seemed grand to me, it sounded as if she’d be unimpressed by anything less than a Chatsworth.
Since I hadn’t appeared for lunch, Mercy sent Job down later with a fifties picnic basket, containing cheese and pickle rolls, an apple, a flask of soup and another of coffee.
Pye strolled into the stockroom in mid-afternoon with Ginger, Bing and Pugsie in obsequious attendance, so I assumed the little dog must have mastered the art of the cat-flap. In fact, I suspected he now thought he was a cat, despite some obvious limitations in the jumping and climbing department.
I was careful to avoid afternoon tea, sneaking in late through the back door with Pye and Pugsie. None of us appeared to have been missed.
Chapter 32: Out of the Box
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Chris.
Chris who?
Chris-tmas time is here again!
I changed into one of my few smart tops, a long, silky black tunic sprinkled with a smattering of silvery steel stars around the neckline, then went back into the kitchen to see if Mercy needed any help with dinner. But she had everything under control.
Tonight she was cooking a whole salmon, sealed into a foil parcel with butter and herbs, to be served with new potatoes, peas and asparagus.
We were to eat formally in the dining parlour, too, so out came the best silver from the sideboard – or best stainless steel, as Mercy put it.
‘I think Randal said he was going to give Lacey a tour of the house after lunch,’ I remarked. ‘Did she get as far as the kitchen wing?’
‘Oh, yes, dear, they had quite an exhaustive tour of downstairs before they went out somewhere in the car, though I told them that they couldn’t enter your sitting room or bedroom without your permission.’
‘I don’t mind really, except that there’s a lot of my work lying around, so it looks messy.’
‘I expect Lacey will want to see the rest of the house tomorrow,’ she said, then went to summon everyone to the table, while I carried through the lordly dish of salmon, which had been neatly garnished with near-transparent circles of cucumber. I was careful to shut Pye in the kitchen with Pugsie, since he’d taken too much interest in the fish and I didn’t want him harassing everyone while they ate.
When I told Lacey where Pugsie was and that he and Pye had been keeping me company at the mill that afternoon, she looked totally blank, so it was clear she’d forgotten about him entirely.
‘You mean Pugsie and that evil cat—’
‘Pye isn’t evil,’ I interrupted indignantly. ‘And they’ve made up their quarrel now and are the best of friends,’ I added, though that was a slight exaggeration, since Pye was merely tolerating the interloper.
‘But if he got out of the house, he could have gone down to the road and got killed!’ she said, as if it was our fault she’d forgotten to look after him.
‘I don’t think he could walk that far,’ Silas said, looking up from his plate, which was so heavily loaded that I assumed salmon was a favourite and could even compete with his beloved ready-made dinners.
Lacey seemed to have a healthy appetite, too, though she was heavy on the salmon and vegetables and totally spurned the buttery new potatoes. I suppose avoiding carbs helps to keep your weight down, but so far I’ve never really had a problem with mine, apart from losing too much in prison. Normally I’m a reasonable size twelve, which is good enough for me.
‘Let Pugsie back in, so he can have a little bit of this salmon,’ she ordered me.
‘Let him in yourself, if you think you can stop Pye coming in with him,’ I rejoined. ‘The kitchen door’s over there.’
‘We don’t feed animals at the table,’ Silas said shortly. ‘And we certainly don’t feed them on expensive fresh salmon!’
‘Don’t worry, Lacey, Pugsie ate his dinner long ago, when Pye had his,’ Mercy said. ‘Job went up to Little Mumming and got some of those dog dinners in small foil pots and a bag of biscuit, so he’s fine.’
‘Well … thank you,’ she said, rather grudgingly. ‘I usually bring his special food with me, because he has such a delicate little stomach.’
‘So I noticed on the way up here,’ Randal said darkly, and she gave him a look.
‘I was tied up in a meeting with suppliers till late, so I had to rush to be ready in time for Randal to pick me up.’
Unfortunately, the idea of Lacey being tied up made me give a snort of laughter, though I quickly changed it into a cough.
‘Sorry,’ I apologised, eyes watering, ‘something went down the wrong way.’
Randal’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and I looked away from him quickly.
Mercy poured me some water, then turned back to Lacey.
‘So, dear,’ she said brightly, ‘did you have a nice little run out in the countryside this afternoon?’
‘I wanted to see my friend and her husband who live in Knutsford. We met halfway,’ she said.
‘How fortunate that one of your friends lives within easy driving distance,’ Mercy said. ‘And while you were out, one of Randal’s friends, Jude Martland, rang to invite us all to lunch at Old Place
on Sunday.’
‘Martland?’ repeated Lacey sharply.
‘Yes, do you know him?’
‘I’ve met a Guy Martland once or twice on the party circuit,’ she said.
‘That would be Jude’s younger brother, but I don’t know if he’ll be up for the weekend or not. Jude and his wife live at Old Place in Little Mumming and they always have a large family lunch on a Sunday, which is great fun. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’
‘You never know quite who’s going to be there, because they’re very hospitable and Holly, Jude’s wife, loves to cook,’ Randal said. Then he added, frowning, ‘I didn’t know you’d met Guy Martland.’
Lacey shrugged. ‘He just hangs out with one or two of my friends, sometimes.’
‘Jude said you were always welcome to come to lunch too, Tabby,’ Mercy told me. ‘Though I did tell him that since Sunday was your day of rest, you might have other plans. Silas and I will go to the meeting first, of course, but you could come up to Little Mumming with Randal and Lacey and meet us there.’
That would be a jolly drive, I thought, before politely declining the invitation.
‘Next time you visit us, Lacey, we’ll invite the Martlands down here for lunch or dinner,’ Mercy told her. ‘I’m sure you’ll get on so well and once you’re living here it will be pleasant for you to have local friends. Randal was at school with Jude, though not in the same year, and he married a very nice girl. They have a baby boy now, too, a very joyful arrival.’
Lacey seemed bored by the turn of the conversation. ‘Actually, when we’re married I expect we’ll divide our time between London and here,’ she said. ‘I’m sure Randal needn’t be on site the whole time and I’m in two minds about whether to relocate my business here.’
‘But when I’m managing Friendship Mill, I’ll need to be here most of the time,’ Randal said, before adding hopefully, ‘Now you’ve seen the scale of the project, perhaps you’d even find the challenge of helping me to make the redevelopment a success more fun than running your own mail-order company?’
‘What, give up my business? No way!’ she said emphatically.
‘Randal tells me your parents own a chain of shops and I think it’s very enterprising of you to set up your own company at such a young age,’ Mercy said. ‘But there’s lots of room in the mill buildings if you should wish to move the business up here.’
‘I was surprised how much space there is,’ Lacey admitted. ‘But if I were to move my business here, I’d like the two big, light rooms behind the cracker workshop.’
‘Impossible. I’m afraid that’s where the museum will be,’ Silas told her. ‘And surely you will only need warehouse space for packing, which would be better located in one of the outbuildings?’
‘I could sell to the public too,’ she said. ‘And anyway, you should close down the cracker factory and lay off all those geriatrics, because it’s a dead loss. Use the space for something more lucrative.’
‘Most of the workforce are younger than me,’ Silas said, looking at her coldly.
‘I suppose we do all seem old to you, dear,’ Mercy said gently, ‘but we don’t feel it, or want to stop working, and we’re determined to make the cracker factory a success.’
Lacey had stopped listening. ‘If the cracker stuff was got rid of, I could have a shop front there by the entrance, in prime position,’ she mused.
‘What exactly is it that you’re selling?’ Mercy asked, and I could see from Randal’s expression that this wasn’t a question he’d wanted asked.
‘Party supplies,’ he said quickly. ‘Everything you need, in one big box.’
‘Oh, yes. I suppose that follows on from your parents’ fancy goods shops,’ Mercy said.
Lacey glanced defiantly at Randal. ‘My parents own the All Thrills stores and my business is called Instant Orgy,’ she announced.
Silas inadvertently swallowed a piece of salmon the wrong way and it was his turn to choke.
I gently patted him on the back while Mercy said faintly, ‘Instant … orgy?’
‘That’s right, I supply everything you need for the orgy of your choice for two or more people – any number, any fantasy. There’s S&M, Naughty Nurses, Transvestite – that’s proving popular, though I think they just have an orgy of dressing up and trying on wigs and make-up – and I’m developing one or two other lines. I think my Bondage in a Box will really pull in the Fifty Shades punters. People are surprisingly shy about shopping in person for what they want,’ she added, matter-of-factly.
Mercy and Silas were both now staring at her as if she’d just confessed to a little light cannibalism when she felt like snacking.
‘You’re very … businesslike about such matters,’ Mercy said.
‘Lacey’s parents never hid the nature of their own business from her, so naturally she doesn’t see it as anything other than a way of making money,’ Randal explained.
‘It isn’t,’ Lacey said, shrugging. ‘In fact, I find what people want silly and boring, but so long as they’re prepared to pay for it, I’ll supply it.’
Now I knew about her parents, I could see where she was coming from, but she seemed incapable of understanding that other people’s reactions might be different to her own.
‘I’m not sure replacing the cracker factory with a sex shop would draw in the visitors in quite the same way,’ I suggested mildly.
‘It certainly wouldn’t draw in the right ones, because we want the mill to be a family venue for a day out,’ Randal said. ‘But there’s plenty of room in the other buildings to house your mail-order operation, darling.’
‘Not at Friendship Mill there isn’t,’ Mercy stated firmly. ‘Not while I’m alive, at any rate. Your uncle Albert would have been horrified by the mere suggestion, Randal!’
‘But times have changed, Mercy,’ he pointed out. ‘Look, I know this has come as a bit of a shock to you, but think it over, because I don’t see the harm in Lacey basing herself in one of the outbuildings. For now, let’s just take one thing at a time and concentrate on getting the mill ready to open.’
‘I think you and I need to have a talk, Randal,’ Lacey said ominously, her doe-eyes going all steely, and after dessert, which she spurned, he took her into the library.
By then she’d retrieved a reluctant Pugsie from the kitchen and was clasping him tightly in her arms. I could hear him snorting indignantly as they closed the door behind them.
‘I thought she was a nice girl,’ Mercy whispered to me, as if they might be able to hear us talking across the long length of the drawing room and through two inches of solid oak.
‘She probably is a nice girl, just blasé about the whole selling-sex-aids thing. Clearly, it’s just another way of making money to her.’
‘Perhaps once they’re married and she’s living here, she’ll learn our ways and become a true helpmeet for Randal,’ she said hopefully.
‘Perhaps she will,’ I agreed, though I couldn’t see Lacey as anyone’s helpmeet, so I thought she’d better not hold her breath.
Chapter 33: Give Peace a Chance
Randal
‘I did ask you not to rock the boat by telling Mercy about the sex shop stuff until she’d got to know you,’ I said, once we were alone in the library.
‘Are you saying there’s something to be ashamed of in what my parents do for a living – or in what I’m selling?’ she demanded, her blue eyes flashing.
‘No, of course not, you know I don’t mean that. It’s just that Mercy, given her age and background, was bound to find it shocking and it’ll take her time to adjust.’
‘What century is she living in, for goodness’ sake, the Victorian one?’ she said scathingly. ‘Do I take it that even if I’m allowed to run my business from her precious mill, it will be hidden away in some remote outbuilding?’
I looked at her, feeling a bit exasperated, if truth be told. ‘There are no remote outbuildings; you’d still be in part of the mill. And I agree with her that an Instant Or
gy shop in the main part of the mill wouldn’t quite fit into the family ethos we’re aiming for.’
‘Whose side are you on?’ she said bitterly. ‘You’re the one who wants me to come and live in this godforsaken hole!’
‘I do – and Mercy will soon get used to the idea,’ I said, with more confidence than I felt. My aunt was infinitely adaptable to new ideas on most subjects, but now I’d seen her initial reaction to Lacey’s announcement, I found it hard to picture the Instant Orgy sign over any door on the property … unless, perhaps, Mercy’s dead body was lying in front of it with Lacey’s stiletto footprints across it. And let’s face it, I might resent not having inherited the place outright, but I was still fond of Mercy, who’d provided a home base for me after my parents were killed in a car accident.
Lacey’s beautiful face was still stormy.
‘Once she knows you, she’ll love you as much as I do,’ I assured her more gently. ‘She just needs a little time.’
‘I don’t think Pugsie likes it here,’ she said, stroking the wheezing creature’s head.
‘I don’t know, he seems to have settled in very well, and lots of country walks would do him good. You have to admit he’d breathe better if he wasn’t so overweight.’
‘He’s mummy’s ickle roly-poly dumpling,’ she said, kissing the dog’s black nose with more passion that she’d ever shown to me, and I suppressed an unworthy pang of jealousy.
I was starting to realise I came a poor second in her affections … when she actually remembered the dog was there. And if it was out of sight and out of mind with Pugsie, might it also be the same with me? After all, I was going to be spending most of the next three or four months away on foreign trips.
‘That horrible, vicious cat will have to go before we come back here again. I hate cats, anyway, and I can’t have poor Pugsie terrorised.’
‘Pugsie went for the cat first. It was just taken by surprise and defending itself,’ I said, and she gave me a look.
‘It scratched his nose!’
A Christmas Cracker Page 21
