September

cocktails.

She wrote: 'Pheasant Theodora.' The door opened and Archie appeared.

Isobel scarcely raised her head. 'You like Pheasant Theodora, don't you?'

'Not for breakfast.'

'I didn't mean for breakfast, I meant for dinner the night of the party.'

'Why can't we have roast grouse?'

'Because it's a fiddle to serve. Little last-minute bits and pieces, like scraps of toast to arrange and gravy to stir.'

'Roast pheasant then?' •

'Same objections.'

'Is Pheasant Theodora the one that looks like sick?'

'It does, a bit, but I can cook it ahead.'

'Why don't you just cook a head?'

'Ha ha.'

'What's for breakfast?'

'It's in the bottom oven.'

Archie went over to the Aga and opened the oven door. 'A red-letter day! Bacon, sausages, and tomatoes. What's happened to the porridge and boiled eggs?'

'We have visitors staying. Bacon, sausages, and tomatoes are what we always give visitors.' He brought his plate over to the table and settled himself beside her, pouring coffee, reaching for the toast and the butter.

'I thought,' he said, 'that Agnes Cooper was coming to help on Friday evening.'

'So she is.'

'Why can't she roast the pheasant?'

'Because she's not a cook. She's a washer-up.'

'You could always ask her to cook.'

'All right. I will. And we'll have mince and tatties for dinner because that's all the poor woman's capable of.'

She wrote: 'Clean silver candlesticks. Buy eight pink candles.'

'I just wish Pheasant Theodora didn't look like sick.'

'If you say it looks like sick in front of all our guests, I shall cut your throat, there and then, with a fruit knife.'

'What are we going to have for starters?'

'Smoked trout?'

Archie put half a sausage into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. 'And pudding?'

'Orange sorbet.'

'White or red wine?'

'A couple of bottles of both, I think. Or champagne. We'll be drinking champagne for the rest of the evening. Perhaps we'd better stick to that.'

'I haven't got any champagne.'

'I shall order a crate today, in Relkirk.'

'Are ypu going to Relkirk?'

'Oh, Archie!' Isobel laid down her Biro and gazed at her husband in hopeless exasperation. 'Do you never listen to anything I tell you? And why do you think I'm all dressed up in my posh clothes? Yes, I am going to Relkirk today. With Pandora and Lucilla and Jeff. We're going shopping.'

'What are you going to buy?'

'Lots of things for Friday night.' She did not say 'A new dress,' because she still hadn't made up her mind about this extravagance. 'And then we're going to lunch in the Wine Bar, and then we're coming home again.'

'Will you get me some cartridges?'

'I'll get you anything you need if you'll write me a list.'

'So I'm not expected to come.' He sounded pleased. He hated shopping.

'You can't come because you've got to be here when the Sad American arrives. He's driving a hired car from Relkirk, and he's due sometime this morning. And you're not to go wandering off, otherwise he'll be faced by a deserted house and think he's not expected and go away again.'

'Might be as well. What shalH give him for lunch?'

'There's soup and pate in the larder.'

'Which room's he sleeping in?'

'Pandora's old room.'

'What's his name?'

'I can't remember.'

'So how am I supposed to greet him? Hail, Sad American.' Archie seemed to find this funny. He made his voice enormously deep. 'Big Chief Running Nose Speaks with Forked Tongue.'

'You've been watching too much television.' But luckily she found it funny too. 'He'll think he's come to a madhouse.'

'Wouldn't be all that far off the mark. What time are you setting off for Relkirk?'

'About half past ten.'

'Lucilla and Jeff seem to be on the move, but you'd better prize Pandora out of bed or you'll still be waiting for her at four o'clock in the afternoon.'

'I already did,' Isobel told him. 'Half an hour ago.'

'She's probably climbed back into bed and gone to sleep again.'

But Pandora had not done this thing. The words were scarcely out of Archie's mouth when they heard the tap of her high heels coming down the passage from the hall. The door opened and she burst into the kitchen, her profusion of hair bright as a flame, and face filled with laughter.

'Good morning, good morning, here I am, and I bet you thought I'd gone back to bed.' She kissed the top of Archie's head and settled herself beside him. She was wearing dark-grey flannel trousers and a pale-grey sweater patterned with pink knitted sheep, and was carrying a magazine. This, it appeared, was the root cause of her amusement.

'I'd forgotten this marvellous mag. Papa used to take it every month. The Country Landowner's Journal.'

'We still take it. I never got around to cancelling the subscription.'

'I found this copy in my bedroom. It's simply fascinating, full of mind-boggling articles about something called Flea-Beetle Dust, and how we've all got to be terribly kind to badgers.' She began to riffle through the pages. Isobel poured her a cup of coffee. 'Oh, thank you darling, heaven. But the best are the ads at the back. Do listen to this one: 'For Sale. Titled Lady Wishes to Dispose of Underclothes. Peach-Pink Directoire Knickers and Silk Opera-Top Vests. Hardly Worn. Offers.' '

Archie finished munching his bit of toast. 'Who do we write to?'

'Box number. Do you suppose that because she's titled, she's simply stopped wearing underclothes?'

'Perhaps somebody's died,' Isobel suggested. 'An old aunt. And she's cashing in on the loot.'

'Some loot. I think she's having a mid-life crisis and has changed her image. Gone on a diet and lost stones of weight and become all flighty. She's into satin camiknickers now with lace round the legs, and His Lordship doesn't know what's hit him. And here's another marvellous one. Do listen, Archie. 'Work Wanted. Personable Farmer's Son. (Does that mean the farmer's personable or the son is?) Thirty Years Old. Some Experience in Draining. Driver. Fond of Shooting and Fishing.' Just think!' Pandora's eyes became enormous. 'He's only thirty and he's able to drive a car. I'm sure he'd be frightfully useful to you, Archie. 'Some Experience in Draining.' He'd be able to take care of all the plumbing. Ballcocks and such. Why don't you drop him a line and offer to take him on?'

'No. I don't think so.'

'Why ever not?'

Archie thought about it. 'He's over-qualified?'