Jack looked embarrassed. ‘He’s the estate’s agent. Officially, he’s supposed to run the whole thing, with me overseeing the factory and Ed overseeing the land.’
‘And unofficially?’ Kate prompted.
‘Well, it’s not like feudal times, you know,’ he said. ‘You don’t keep people who work for you like that at arm’s length. I suppose he’s more of a family friend. Why do you ask, anyway?’
‘Oh, no reason, really. Except that he keeps looking at me in a strange way.’
‘He’s a strange man,’ Jack said lightly. ‘What sort of way?’
‘I’m not sure. Almost as if he’s inspecting me. And doesn’t approve.’
‘Imagination. He’s not much of a smiler, that’s all.’
Kate accepted it. ‘And who’s the delicious Brigadier?’
‘You think he’s delicious?’ He seemed worried by the idea.
‘Oh yes. Every girl’s dream of a daddy.’
He seemed relieved. ‘Oh, right. A father figure.’ Kate hadn’t meant that, but she let it pass. ‘Well, he’s another neighbour, of course, but he’s sweet on Camilla. Wants to marry her, but he’s twenty years older than her. Still, she keeps stringing him along and not saying yes or no. I suppose she likes the attention.’
‘What girl wouldn’t?’ Kate said lightly, watching him laugh with Susie Orde.
‘Well, he’s not her only suitor,’ Jack said. ‘There’s a pack of them.’
Before Kate could ask more about this intriguing suggestion, they were interrupted by a newcomer, a fair, slightly pudgy man coming in from the hall. ‘The missing Eric,’ Jack murmured to Kate. ‘You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he’s a demon in the saddle – a hard rider to hounds.’
Behind him came another man, with Jocasta clinging affectionately to one of his arms and bouncing a little as she chattered to him; the monochrome Hilary was trailing in the rear. The dogs all rose from their various positions of recumbency to run to him. Even the cat vacated her lap and stalked towards the obvious master of the house.
‘My brother Ed,’ Jack explained, unnecessarily.
He was much taller than Jack, lean and hard and powerful around the shoulders. His hair was black and springy, his face very tanned, his eyes a contrasting bright blue like a Siamese cat’s. He was very handsome, but grave-looking, as though he didn’t smile very often; a dark, severe, strong, perhaps difficult man.
He was also – and of course, now she thought of it, which was why the greyhound had looked familiar – the Angry Man who had berated her for rubbing down her own window frames.
Jocasta was still chattering, and let him go to fling out an arm in Kate’s direction. ‘Oh, and here’s Kate, who bought Little’s. You haven’t met her yet, but I have. She rescued Chewy, and she’s terrific, she can do everything. We’re going to go riding together.’
Jack groaned quietly. ‘Oh no! Why did she have to mention Little’s?’
Kate stood up – she felt she couldn’t help it – and moved a couple of steps towards the man. He took the other couple, and they were standing close enough for her to feel – in her imagination, at least – the heat radiating from his body. She looked up into his unsmiling face.
He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it, aware at the outposts of her body how large and strong it was, warm and dry, a hand to put your trust in. The rest of her was focused on his face. Tense, dry-mouthed, she registered his eyes looking directly into hers like a fork of blue lightning that went all the way to the pit of her stomach. Her stomach and her knees felt warm and weak. Oh no, she thought, far away and faintly, what are you doing? You can’t lust after this man.
She was, though. He was so solid and real, he made every other man in the room – including Jack – look like a cardboard cut-out. Even the Brigadier was a mirage. He was – stunning!
‘We’ve met,’ he said.
Eleven
A great deal more was drunk before they were called, by some signal Kate missed, into the dining room, so everyone was extremely relaxed and the conversational volume had risen almost to party level. When everyone stood up and started trekking towards the door, she immediately found Jocasta attached to her arm. ‘Oh please can I sit next to you? They’ll make me sit with that boring old Hilary. She’s so wet, I hate her, but they’re always making me hang out with her because we’re the same age. You don’t like someone just because they’re the same age, do you? I mean, she doesn’t like anything interesting. She doesn’t even ride.’
‘Perhaps her parents can’t afford to buy her a pony,’ Kate hazarded, feeling sorry for any fellow-sufferer from frizzy hair.
Jocasta looked exasperated. ‘She could ride Chloe if she wanted. I’ve told her a million times. But she won’t. She’s scared of horses.’ This was said with withering contempt, obviously a sin past redemption. Kate was saved from answering by Camilla, coming up behind them, who said severely, ‘Stop bothering Kate, Jocasta. You’re to sit with Hilary in the middle, and help Mrs B with the dishes, and for goodness’ sake don’t spill anything.’ Jocasta gave her a martyred look and mooched away. Camilla closed up with Kate and said, ‘I’m seating you next to Ed. That should keep him occupied.’
Kate didn’t know whether to be pleased or dismayed.
The dining room was as large as the drawing room, a vast oak-panelled chamber with another huge fireplace, and was dominated by a massive oak table and high-backed, carved oak chairs with tapestry seats. There were no fewer than three great solid sideboards, laden with tarnished silver accoutrements, and there were many dim old paintings on the wall – as well as two rather obvious clean patches where paintings had once hung and did no more. The only rug was in front of the fireplace, and was immediately colonized by the dogs in a panting, eager jostle. Elsewhere, the bare polished floorboards underfoot, coupled with the height of the ceiling, magnified every scrape of a chair or shift of a foot to a clashing noise like giants clog-dancing in a municipal swimming pool.
But the company only raised their voices to compensate. They were obviously used to it. Camilla was busying herself directing people in a piercing voice to the seats she wanted them to occupy, and they moved with good-natured languor, getting up when they were told they were in the wrong place and changing seats without ever breaking off what they were saying. All geared, Kate calculated, to seat her next to Ed, where she could distract him from Camilla; and also away from Jack, with whom she might otherwise converse too much to do her duty.
As she took her place Ed gave her an unsmiling, though not unfriendly look. ‘I feel that I owe you an apology,’ he said, and the tightness of his lips suggested that he didn’t find those words easy to say. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t make a good impression when I saw you outside the cottage.’
‘It was certainly an interesting first meeting,’ Kate said lightly, to reassure him she held no malice.
But he wasn’t to be deflected. ‘I shouldn’t have called you a squatter, or disbelieved you. It was rude of me. I’m sorry.’
‘Quite understandable, when it was your stepmother who owned the place,’ she said. He seemed to flinch slightly at that. ‘If I’d known who you were, or that you didn’t know she’d sold it—’ She realized belatedly that she was talking voluntarily about the very subject Camilla had put her there to avoid. ‘Anyway,’ she said hastily, ‘let’s forget the whole thing and start again.’ She held out her hand. ‘How do you do, I’m Kate Jennings.’
She thought for a moment he would leave her hanging, but at last he gave a little quirk of the lips that might charitably be construed as a smile, and said, ‘How do you do? I’m Edward Blackmore. But please call me Ed.’
Jocasta appeared between them and leaned over, breathing strenuously in Kate’s ear with concentration, to place a bowl of soup in front of each of them. ‘There,’ she said triumphantly, ‘and I didn’t spill.’
‘Smells good,’ Kate said.
‘Mrs B is a great believer in soup. It uses up the lef
tovers,’ Ed explained. ‘She says she remembers rationing – though I can’t really believe she’s that old. Her actual age is one of the great mysteries of life. I don’t think even Ted – her husband – knows.’
‘She’s been with you a long time?’ Kate said, glad to have found a safe topic.
‘I was about four when she came, so I don’t really remember a time without her. She came as a general maid, but not long after that my mother died, the cook left, and she took over. She’s been cooking for us ever since.’
‘How old were you when your mother died?’ Kate asked.
‘Six,’ he said. ‘Jack was only two, so he doesn’t really remember her.’
‘But you do,’ she said, seeing that there was something there, still, all these years later – a sadness. He made a sound that might have been a yes, and ate some soup to cover up. ‘How did she die? She must have been quite young.’ She held her breath, in case being asked annoyed him; but he didn’t seem to object.
‘Peritonitis,’ he said. ‘It was a tragedy. Only about ten per cent of cases die from it. The important thing is to get treatment quickly enough. My father thought she just had indigestion and sent her to bed with a hot water bottle. By the time he realized it was serious, it was too late. We’re quite a long way from the hospital, here.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘It must have been terrible for him.’
‘It was,’ he said. ‘He was always one for telling you to buck up and stop making a fuss. He didn’t believe in being ill. But he adored my mother. It broke him when she died. He blamed himself, of course.’
‘Did you blame him?’
He looked at her. ‘Oh, for a couple of years, when I was a teenager, I did. But you always find something to blame your parents for at that age. I soon realized that he just did what he thought was right. Besides, he punished himself for it far more harshly than I ever would have.’ She saw him shake himself mentally. ‘But this is no topic for the lunch table. Tell me about yourself. What brings you to Somerset?’
So she told him an abbreviated version of her life in London and her desire for change, Gaga’s legacy and – touching on it as briefly as possible – buying Little’s, jumping from there quickly to remembering Bursford from childhood, and Granny and Grandpa living in Exford.
There was a gleam in his eyes, as though he knew what she was up to and was amused. ‘PR,’ he said. ‘Now that must be an interesting job.’
‘It probably sounds more interesting than it is,’ she said. ‘And you really don’t want to know about it anyway,’ she added with a smile. ‘You’re just being polite.’
‘That’s what society is all about,’ he said solemnly. ‘You ask me a question and I ask you one. It’s tit for tat.’
‘And is the honesty of the answer also tit for tat?’
‘You,’ he said, looking into her eyes with devastating effect, ‘are a dangerous young woman. Where would we be if everyone answered all questions honestly?’
They were interrupted at that moment by Jocasta collecting their soup plates, and Mrs B on the other side dumping an enormous roast rib of beef in front of him. ‘Ah, I have to perform my carving duties,’ he said, and introduced her to Mrs B, who turned out to be a tall, strong-looking woman with short, curly grey hair and the remains of great beauty in her face and her still dark eyes. She didn’t smile at Kate, but gave her a slow, considering look that Kate didn’t take amiss. If she’d been looking after everybody for all these years, she was entitled to make judgement on the people they brought home.
Ed carved, laying slices on plates that were passed down either side, and since Kate’s other neighbour, the plump sportsman Eric, was busy talking to his other side, she occupied herself with studying the portraits around the room and finding no resemblance in the faces to either Jack or Ed. There were no very modern paintings, so none could be his mother, though there was one from the nineteen twenties or thirties, to judge by the clothes, which she supposed might be his grandmother.
Dishes of roast potatoes and vegetables had come in, and Yorkshire puddings, and gravy, and there was much handing up and down, while Jack got up and went round the table filling everyone’s glasses with wine, after which he dumped several bottles at intervals along the table and said, ‘You’ll have to help yourselves from now on.’ As he put a bottle down in front of Kate he gave her a searing look, part entreaty and part warning. She smiled gaily back, not having the slightest idea what he wanted her to do or not do. Perhaps he was just worried that Ed might be eating her up. They seemed to regard him as a bit of an ogre; but she felt she was well up to him. He hadn’t bitten her head off yet. In fact, he was talking to her remarkably freely. Long may it last! She loved his voice – sheer black velvet.
When Ed was settled again, she said, ‘You and Jack don’t look much alike. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t take you for brothers.’
‘We get that a lot. There are similarities of feature, when you get to know us.’ She was glad he had said ‘when’ and not ‘if’. ‘But I’m very like my father, and Jack’s more like our mother. She was very fair and pretty, and everyone loved her. My father was tall and grim, and people were wary of him. He didn’t have the knack of getting on with people. I’m afraid I take after him.’
‘I don’t think you’re grim,’ she said – rather daringly, all things considered. ‘And you don’t seem to be having any trouble getting on with me.’
He levelled a look at her. ‘Are you flirting with me?’
She laughed. ‘If you think that’s flirting, you obviously don’t have much experience of the thing. Why do you think you haven’t the knack of getting on with people?’
‘I don’t suffer fools gladly,’ he said. ‘Or dishonesty. Or people who don’t keep their word.’
She nodded sympathetically. ‘And as so much of social interaction is based on dishonesty, I can see why you’d find it a burden.’
‘Not a burden, exactly. It just – doesn’t interest me.’ He did that mental shake thing again – it was as if he realized he was getting too far in and needed to change direction – and said, ‘Tell me about the Great Rescue.’
‘What – Chewy? It was hardly that.’
‘You were a fool to approach a strange dog in a situation like that. You could have been badly bitten.’
‘I was careful. Anyway, he was so tangled up, he couldn’t really have reached me.’
‘He could have bitten you when he got free.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, he didn’t. And I couldn’t just leave him, could I?’
He nodded. ‘We’re all very grateful to you.’
‘And you’re showing it,’ she said. ‘This splendid lunch! It’d be bread and cheese at home. And Jocasta’s going to take me riding.’
Now the cautious look left his face for the first time. ‘You like horses?’
‘Love them. I used to ride as a child, here and in Dublin, but of course opportunities are limited in London.’
‘That’s why I come back every weekend – or part of the reason, anyway. I must show you the stables after lunch. When are you and Jocasta riding?’
‘We haven’t made a date yet,’ she said, glad that he, at least, didn’t tell her not to let Jocasta be a nuisance.
He nodded, but didn’t follow up the question. He was looking at her with interest now, and she felt a pang of connection with him, accompanied with that quaky feeling in the stomach. He began to say, ‘I wonder—’ when his other neighbour, Steph Holland, sitting on his left and opposite Kate, finished what she was saying to the Brigadier, and turned to Ed to say:
‘What have you heard about the War Memorial restoration, Ed? Surely something ought to be decided soon, if they’re going to have any chance of getting the work done before November?’
Ed turned to her and they fell into a discussion of local affairs that meant nothing to Kate. Eric was still busy on his other side, so Kate concentrated on her dinner, which was delicious. Mrs B was evidently what w
as called a ‘good plain cook’, but the phrase did nothing to convey the pleasure good plain cooking could impart.
A movement further down the table made her look that way, and she saw Jack staring at her with raised eyebrows, mouthing some question at her. She had no idea what it was, so she just smiled at him, and he looked relieved, threw her a wink, and went back to his conversation.
After pudding – rhubarb crumble and custard, very traditional, but raised to new heights by the addition of a hint of ginger – they all went back into the drawing room for coffee. Large brandies, whiskies, and Cointreau on ice for Susie Orde were distributed. Everyone settled deeply into their seats for a long afternoon of drinking and gossip, except for Jocasta who, with Hilary trailing in her wake, disappeared with the dogs, evidently accepting for the moment that Kate was one of the grown-ups for the purposes of this afternoon, and was not to be annexed for her own pleasures.
Kate found herself on a sofa somewhat out of the main scrum with the Brigadier, whom she found fascinating, and who had plenty of stories to tell her, since he had served both in Iraq and Afghanistan, and didn’t mind talking about it. From there it was an easy step to what he was doing with his retirement from the army.
‘Well, I have a house and a few acres I inherited from my father, and the army pension, which is enough to live on in a small way, but not enough for what I want to do.’
‘And what do you want to do?’ Kate asked.
‘Get married,’ he said. Kate’s mouth said a silent, ‘Oh,’ and she thought of Camilla, but she managed through great strength of mind not to look at her. The Brigadier hurried on. ‘I couldn’t support a wife on my pension alone. And besides, I can’t sit about doing nothing. I’m not used to it. So I’ve set up a business which I’m in the process of expanding – a consultancy.’
‘Consultancy in what?’
‘A sort of specialized employment agency, placing people as bodyguards, either long-term, or for specific events.’
Kate's Progress Page 14
