Billy reminded them of their place and they quickly apologised. James held his hands up to dismiss the apology.
‘So you didn’t see anything?’
The men, between them, explained that they’d had a few drinks, were enjoying chatting to the two young ladies and that Adam kept the wine flowing. Eddie put in that he only noticed what happened when the wine was spilt.
‘Did she knock the glass over?’
Eddie shrugged. ‘We were listening to Scotty and one of his anecdotes so I wasn’t looking. Sorry we can’t help. Is it serious then?’
George advised that it wasn’t and that Miss Dupree would be quite well. Walter scratched his head. ‘It’s a bit funny though, isn’t it? Someone putting stuff in a drink.’ He turned to James. ‘You didn’t do it to get another mystery going, did you?’
In spite of the inappropriate remark, a giggle went round the room and James chuckled along with the group, assuring them that he was not that desperate. With nothing to add to proceedings, the men checked their watches and decided that it was time to wander home.
‘Are you walking back to the village?’ James asked.
Billy insisted it was only a mile and they had their overcoats. He turned to James. ‘Is it true that there’s a Mummers’ play at the next dance?’
James confirmed that there was. ‘I was contacted in the summer by a touring Morris-dancing team and they wondered if we’d like a traditional Mummers’ play. I couldn’t resist so, yes, we have that plus the wonderful Carlo Pisani back again.’
The men’s eyes lit up and Billy said the party couldn’t wait for the next evening to come round. They shook hands with George. James led them out to Reception and indicated for Paul to collect their coats. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a lift?’ he asked. ‘I have the Jaguar parked outside, it wouldn’t take long.’
A united ‘no’ was the answer along with the insistence that James join the wedding party and the regular guests.
James did so. Carlo had slowed the pace down to draw the evening to a close and most of those remaining were on the dance floor shuffling in each others’ arms.
Many of the villagers from the wedding reception had long since disappeared , as they had to work the next day or needed to get back to their children. Those remaining were slipping their coats on and saying a fond farewell to GJ and Catherine who were getting ready to leave. James joined Beth as they said their goodbyes to the newlyweds. ‘I’m so sorry we’ve not been on hand much tonight.’
GJ held a hand up. ‘Please don’t apologise after everything you’ve done for me. You got me on my feet and you’ve provided this wonderful celebration. How is Miss Dupree?’
Knowing that the singer would thrive on people talking about her, he delivered a quick one-line update. Beth hugged them both.
‘You’re not going to Cornwall tonight, surely?’
‘No, no,’ said Catherine. ‘We’re back to GJ’s, sorry, our cottage tonight and getting a train tomorrow.’
GJ explained that Juliet could stay at their cottage while they were making use of her house.
‘How long are you away for?’
‘Two weeks. Back in time for Christmas.’
‘Well, you have a wonderful time. We’ll look after Juliet.’
Beth, together with those villagers remaining, waved the taxi off before returning to the dance floor.
A movement caught James’ eye as he stood in Reception. Miss Dupree descended the stairs using Adam’s arm for support. He dashed across to help her negotiate the last two steps.
‘I say, Miss Dupree, how are you feeling?’
‘I’m fine. Or I will be when I find out who did this.’
‘Yes, it’s a rather unpleasant thing to have happened.’
He walked with her toward the dining room where Mandy Billings was singing ‘Every Time We Say Goodbye’. Olivia’s eyes narrowed. ‘How dare she! The moment my back is turned! She won’t get away with it. And Carlo; how could he betray me like this?’ She snatched her coat from Adam and marched through the front doors. James turned to his waiter.
‘Where’s she going?’
‘There’s a taxi waiting, your Lordship. She asked me to call for one a while back.’
Beth appeared beside him and pulled his sleeve. ‘Come on, one final dance.’
With a last glance at Olivia, he took Beth’s hand and led her back to the dining room. Carlo and his band announced the last tune, the more up-beat ‘In The Mood’. James swung Beth on to the dance floor and the pair of them jived in and around the remaining couples.
As the band hit the last note, enthusiastic applause broke out around the room with encouraging shouts of ‘Splendid!’ and ‘Magnificent!’ Carlo signalled for the band to stand and take a bow. Anne and Stephen came toward James and Beth.
‘W-what a wonderful day.’
‘Would there be room for us next week when he’s back?’ said Anne.
James beamed. ‘Of course.’ He called across to the Jacksons. ‘I say, Philip, Helen, would you like to join us on Saturday? We could squeeze another table in if you’d like to attend.’
The doctor and his wife didn’t need asking twice.
‘That would be lovely,’ said Philip. ‘Don’t often get to do this sort of thing. Do you think Mr Chrichton will babysit again?’
Beth tilted her head. ‘You know how much he loves children. Unless he has other plans, I’m sure he’d love to.’
‘S-surprised he hasn’t children of his own.’
James explained that the teacher had planned to marry quite some time previously but everything fell through. ‘Unfortunately, he’s never found the right lady. He did have someone in tow earlier in the year but she seems to have flown.’
The band began packing their instruments and music stands. The guests, exhausted by all the dancing, slowly made their way upstairs to their rooms, stopping on the way to thank James and Beth for another first of December success. Many of the ladies had taken their shoes off and walked in stockinged feet. All of the men had undone their top shirt-buttons and taken their jackets off as they plodded wearily to their beds.
Anne, Stephen, Philip and Helen said their goodbyes with the reminder that everyone was meeting in the Half Moon the following day to discuss the Christmas festivities.
Paul opened the doors leading to the terrace and a paved area where the band’s driver had parked a small coach.
James excused himself and strolled over to meet Mandy. ‘I wanted to say how magnificent we all thought you were. To step up and sing so wonderfully was incredibly brave of you and we did appreciate it.’
She positively beamed. ‘I loved every minute of it, I really did. It’s so good of Carlo to give me a go. I didn’t think he’d ask.’
‘It’s a pity about your employer becoming ill.’
She shrugged and, not for the first time, James received confirmation that Olivia was prone to dramatics.
‘Did you enjoy the meal?’
‘Oh yes. I can’t remember ever having such a feast. I probably ate too much. Olivia doesn’t eat anything before singing. I loved the old men at the table too. Real sweethearts.’
Carlo strode across with an outstretched hand and beckoned Beth to him. He bowed and kissed her hand and took James’ hand.
‘I have had the most splendid time and we do the same on Saturday, si?’
‘Si,’ said James. ‘It’s been an absolute joy, Carlo. Will Miss Dupree be singing next week?’
‘I ’ave the replacement if she does not. But she will come round. She is like a child, Lord Harrington. She has the tantrum and she pouts the lips for forgiveness. She will be here. But I may not forgive her. Mandy hassa talent, a natural talent and she issa respectful. That issa what puts her above Olivia. Perhaps someone make her ill again, si?’ He smiled.
Beth scanned the room. ‘Where is Miss Carmichael? And Miss Dupree, is she still here?’
‘Flown the nest, darling.’
Mandy froze, her lips curled wi
th disgust. ‘That bloody woman didn’t even ask me if I wanted a lift. My God, she’s something else. Shame that poison didn’t kill her.’
Carlo looked sheepish as he wrapped an arm around Mandy. ‘Si, she snap her fingers and Enid go running. I would not leave you on your own, Mandy. You come with me.’
She shrugged him off and, with a face like thunder, stormed out to the coach.
‘Mamma mia,’ he muttered. He smiled at James and Beth. ‘Caio. Till Saturday, Lord Harrington, Lady Harrington.’
He bowed and joined his fellow musicians on the bus.
Paul closed and locked the doors. Adam, along with fellow waiters and waitresses poured in and began cleaning the room. James witnessed this every year and was constantly amazed at their efficiency; he likened them to a row of starlings picking up every last scrap from the lawn. They separated into groups; some cleaning, some dusting and vacuuming. As each section of floor was covered, others came in with clean tablecloths and cutlery to prepare the tables for breakfast. He clapped his hands to attract their attention and put an arm around Beth.
‘We just wanted to say thank you for everything you did tonight. You had your work cut out this evening and you did your job without fuss or complaint. We’ll be sure to recognise that nearer to Christmas.’
They received nods of appreciation. He and Beth returned to reception to retrieve their coats. Harry emerged from the office with the guest book.
‘Harry! We thought you’d gone home.’
‘I put my feet up. I did a jive with Kate Delaney and she ran me ragged. I’ve been taking a look at the books and the guest list. We have a war hero at the dinner on Saturday, did you know?’
‘No I didn’t. I don’t tend to examine the next intake until the current one is over.’
Harry flicked open the pages. ‘A Captain William Carlton, DSO, retired. I’m presuming he’s a hero. You don’t get a DSO for any old punch up.’
‘Sussex regiment?’
‘Their address is Pulborough so he could be.’ Harry helped Beth on with her coat. ‘Mother, you manage to look stunning even after dancing and hosting two functions on one night – not to mention the poisoning of the walking ego.’
She thanked him and stepped up between them. ‘Shall we go home? I could really do with a nice cup of hot chocolate.’
James patted her hand. ‘Good idea.’
‘What do you make of this poisoning, Dad?’
James explained he didn’t know what to make of it and was pleased to leave George to investigate. Truth be told, he didn’t like anything untoward happening at Harrington’s. The sooner it was resolved, the better.
As he and Harry brushed the snow from the Jaguar’s windscreen, he couldn’t help but recall the look on Carlo’s face when he’d suggested that Olivia might become ill again. The smile was a playful one but that playfulness hadn’t reached his eyes. And Mandy’s reaction on being stranded by Olivia seemed steeped in animosity. This coming Saturday might prove to be an eventful one.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following lunchtime, James and Beth joined the Merryweathers, Bert and Charlie in the Half Moon. The Delaneys had added a festive feel to the bar with plenty of tinsel and fairy lights draped over pictures and along oak beams. A small tree stood in the corner and a roaring log fire spat out a warm welcome. Most people were at work but a few farmhands and retired villagers sat at the bar discussing Christmas, the wedding and events in the news.
Donovan waved a cheery hello. ‘Is it being too early for the Christmas ale?’
His wife, Kate, who was hanging tinsel around the bar, looked down from the chair she was standing on. ‘And we’ve Christmas mead too.’
James examined the brewer’s label depicting a jolly Santa Claus skimming across the rooftops against a midnight blue backdrop; he was holding a pint of the said Christmas ale. He didn’t like judging the quality of a beer by the picture but he’d not been let down on previous years so he ordered a pint. Beth settled for a large schooner of mead.
‘You won’t be disappointed,’ said Kate to Beth. ‘It’s made on a farm near Brighton using honey from their own bees kept on the South Downs.’
Donovan gently allowed the ale to flow into a dimpled pint-jug. He placed the beer on the ancient oak bar. A white head formed on the top. James held it up to the light. Dark ale, fruity, he suspected. He leant in and took a sip. Undeniably, a Christmas ale with, he remarked, a hint of cinnamon if he wasn’t mistaken.
Kate grinned. ‘You know your ale, your Lordship.’ She stepped down from the chair and picked up a card from under the counter. ‘Honey, chocolate, ginger, oranges, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves; along with all the normal malt and hops.’
Beth sipped her mead. ‘And this is delicious.’
Drinks in hand, they wandered across to join the others who had taken up residence in the booth overlooking the village green.
‘Any news on Miss Dupree?’ asked Anne. ‘Was someone trying to kill her?’
Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘A-Anne, you are b-becoming far too eager to learn of someone’s demise. R-Remember your position, please.’
Charlie put in. ‘I didn’t even realise she was ill until her replacement got up.’ His face softened. ‘She was a wonderful replacement though.’
Bert prepared a roll-up. ‘Don’t surprise me that someone wanted to knock ’er off.’
James blinked with surprise. He shrugged.
‘I’m just saying, that’s all. I spoke to my mate this morning; the one whose daughter went to school with ’er. A conniving cow, that’s what he described ’er as – even back then.’
‘I guess,’ said Beth, ‘if you’re like that as a child, unless someone takes it out of you, you’ll continue like that as an adult.’
James agreed and suggested that she’d probably upset a few people on her road to success. ‘Someone once said that you were to be nice to those people on the way up because you might meet them on the way down.’
‘That’s right, Jimmy-boy,’ said Bert, ‘and she’s gonna find out the ’ard way; trampling over people’s feelings to get wha’ she wants. Not right.’
‘Well, we’re not here to judge. Providing she turns up and sings on Saturday, I’ll be happy. Now, what’s happening this week?’
Charlie held up a piece of paper. ‘Dorothy’s given me the list. She’s up in London today visiting a sick relative.’
Dorothy Forbes was the chief organiser of village events. Although James and a handful of others knew the local folklore and traditions, Dorothy could be relied upon to whip everyone into shape and actually make things happen. Even in her absence, she didn’t disappoint.
‘Well,’ continued Charlie, ‘the Cavendish Players are more or less word perfect for the pantomime. Still a couple of rehearsals to go but that’s all coming on nicely. The nativity play is being performed this Saturday and next Friday afternoon. The Saturday performance is at the old people’s home down the road. The Friday performance is at the church at four o’clock.’ He looked up. ‘I take it everyone will be there.’
They agreed that those who were able to attend would be there.
‘Who is pl-playing Father Christmas this year? Is he handing out presents after the nativity or at a separate time?’
‘St Nicholas Day falls on Sunday so we thought we’d do it after the church service if that’s all right with you.’
Stephen’s eyes opened wide with delight. ‘Of course, the sixth of D-December. St Nicholas Day at St Nicholas Ch-church.’
Anne beamed. ‘Oh that will be wonderful. That’s this Sunday.’ She turned to Beth. ‘Shall we get together and try and encourage everyone to attend? I know we have a relatively full house at church but, if they know Santa’s coming too, we can make sure all the families are there. I have to muck in a little more at the moment because Stephen is doubling up on things.’
Stephen explained that the vicar at Loxfield had succumbed to a nasty flu virus. ‘I-I’m afraid I shan’t be a-about as
much as normal.’
‘Me neither,’ Bert put in. ‘It’s Christmas, I’ve go’ orders to get in and you lot ‘ave put ‘em in so don’t give me filthy looks.’
James bit back a grin and silently hoped that the likes of Bert Briggs would remain in our society for years to come. He knew his friend was a rogue and his goods and wares were probably obtained down a dark alley somewhere but he turned a blind eye. On more than one occasion, Bert had helped James resolve an issue and, although he felt incredibly guilty for doing so, he put an order in for a few presents.
Beth confirmed that she was more than happy to help Anne gather a congregation. ‘The Snoop Sisters have all the presents locked up in their front room. They’ve wrapped them up and coded them.’
Rose and Lilac Crumb, nicknamed by James as the Snoop Sisters because they were so nosy, integrated better when they had something important to do. This was their role for the Christmas period. The Women’s Institute, throughout the year, put a percentage of its takings from village events into a kitty to purchase toys for the children in December.
Bert frowned. ‘Coded ’em.’
James explained that they had around thirty young children in the village aged between two and ten. Each present was coded to suit a boy or a girl and the approximate age it would suit.
‘They’re generally pretty spot on because it’s normally jigsaws, annuals, toys, that sort of thing.’
‘That reminds me,’ said Bert taking out a scrap of paper and a small pencil. ‘I’ve got some children’s books and annuals coming in the next few days. Let me know if you want any. Half price.’
Anne immediately asked if he was able to get a copy of Tom’s Midnight Garden. ‘The story sounds wonderful and I’m sure Luke and Mark will love it. I adore children’s books.’
The next ten minutes were taken up with orders being placed. James smirked at Beth, knowing she was thinking the same. All of these items would have fallen off the back of a lorry; but, people can’t resist a bargain. Suffice to say, he had to accept that Bert would be unavailable for most of the lead-up to Christmas. He sipped his ale.
Lord James Harrington and the Christmas Mystery Page 4
