“Thanks a lot,” said Lois. “Our invoice on the farmhouse job is on its way. I’ll call in soon, and we could maybe see about a discount for quantity!” She made it sound like a joke, but the girl knew for sure that if she played her part, Lois Meade would deliver.
Lois put down the phone, and went back into the kitchen. Jamie had stayed at home today with a sore throat, and she sat down at the table with him to have a game of Scrabble. She looked at his pale face, with its special sweet smile reserved for her, and thanked God that Gran was now living with them. The struggle between motherhood and career would have been overwhelming without her.
Gran put a mug of hot orange juice in front of Jamie, and gave coffee to Lois and herself. It was warm in the kitchen, and with rain lashing the windows Lois felt no inclination to venture out. She allowed Jamie to win the game, and suggested he had a snooze in the old armchair with Melvyn the cat. She tucked a rug around him and waited until his eyes closed. Then she whispered to Gran that she just had to go over to Waltonby for half an hour, but would be back in time for lunch. “Keep an eye on Jamie, won’t you,” she said, and got such a withering look from her mother that she drove off through the downpour with some relief.
It was noon by the time she passed Cathanger Mill and drove on to Bell’s Farm. She felt a nervous shiver as she quickened the pace through the dark tunnel of trees, but today she saw nobody. The mill house was shrouded in curtains of rain, and large puddles were forming in the dip by the bridge over the stream. By the time Lois got to the farmhouse, she was wondering whether the Charringtons would brave this awful weather after all.
She reckoned without Rosie’s determination. Accustomed to getting her own way, Rosie had dismissed all protests from Sebastian that they’d get marooned, and made use of the opportunity to suggest the need for a four- by-four. She had parked her car just off the road in the farm entrance, and they’d hopped and dodged up the path to the front door of the house.
Sebastian’s mood surprisingly improved. “This is more like it,” he said, scraping his shoes on an old iron bar driven into the ground for just that purpose. “God, smell that air, Rosie,” he said.
She thought privately that the quicker they got out of the soggy rain-filled air the better, but smiled and nodded. “This is
For a moment she stood and stared, and then, “Oh, my goodness!” she said. “This is incredible! It’s like the fairies have been in and transformed it!”
Sebastian looked at her anxiously. Had she flipped or something? He was used to her going overboard about her enthusiasms, but what was she on about?
“It’s so clean!” she explained. “When I came before – I told you – it was deep in junk and dirt, and really took a feat of imagination to see how it could be restored. Now…well, it must be that Mrs Meade – I told you – and her cleaning service.”
They continued round the house, with Rosie exclaiming and Sebastian nodding approval. “Well done, Rosie,” he said finally. “This would be ideal, if I get the job. Plenty of room for the family, and – ” he peered through the sparkling windows at the rain-soaked garden and the paddock beyond – “and look out there. We could have a couple of ponies, some chickens…”
“And a Labrador…a black one, must be a black one.” Rosie’s eyes were shining, and she hugged Sebastian in an excess of excitement.
At this favourable moment, Lois knocked at the door. “I saw your car,” she said, smiling broadly. “Thought I’d just look in to see how you’re getting on…Maybe need some information about the area…facilities and so on?”
“How very kind,” said Rosie. “That would be most useful. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and tell us about buses and Women’s Institutes and things?”
“One thing,” said Sebastian. Lois looked at him. “What’s that heap in the garden there?” he said. “Looks like a funeral pyre.”
“Ah,” said Lois. “Well, it’s just a heap of rubbish that we turned out of the house.” She moved across to the window, blocking the view for the Charringtons. “I’m going to burn it up, as soon as it stops raining.” As she looked out at the heap, she was very glad they could no longer see it. A large rat put its head out from under the plastic cover and sniffed the air, scenting danger. It ran, a black streak through the grass, and disappeared into the old washhouse.
“Farmers are glad, though,” Lois said brightly. “It’s been a dry autumn, and now they need the rain.”
“Farmers,” said Rosie dreamily. “Of course. We shall be right in the middle of the changing seasons, Sebastian. I’m sure it’s wonderful on a crisp, frosty morning, Mrs Meade?”
“Oh, wonderful,” said Lois. They’d learn.
¦
She got a call from Rosie much sooner than she expected, only a matter of weeks after this encounter. Apparently their smart house in Birmingham had sold immediately, and they planned to move into Bell’s Farm within days. Sebastian had got the job with the vet’s practice, and after Lois’s ministrations they could see that the farmhouse was habitable straight away. All the renovations they planned could be done whilst they were resident, and Sebastian had said this would be a good thing, as he could keep an eye on idle workmen. They had decided to give Waltonby village school a chance, and had talked to the headteacher.
“Everything’s organized,” Rosie burbled to Lois, “except the dog! If you know of any Labrador puppies, please let me know.”
Lois pondered on that one. She’d ask at the next Monday meeting. Enid Abraham might know of someone. She had started work several weeks ago, and all was going well. She turned up at her jobs on time, and so far had been reliable. Two or three clients had mentioned how pleased they were with her. So thorough and careful! And quiet as a mouse. One woman, a romantic novelist, who had stressed that the least interruption disturbed her muse, rang Lois specifically to say how wonderful Enid was…so sympathetic to the need for a cocoon of silence!
“Good,” Lois had said, and could think of nothing else to say. Blimey, you really saw it all in this job. Now she arranged with Rosie Charrington to send a cleaner in on Wednesday mornings, and said that very possibly it would be Enid Abraham from the mill just down the road. “I’ll have to look at my schedules, but it would make sense,” she said.
Then she remembered that the heap of junk was still there. It had been raining on and off for weeks, and the ground was waterlogged. The farmers had stopped being glad, and were on more familiar ground, happily grumbling that they couldn’t get on the land and the seed would be ruined. Lois decided to ask Derek to deal with the heap. He could pour petrol on it, or something, and make it tidy afterwards.
For about a week, the water from the mill stream had filled the ditches either side of the road with swirling, muddy water, and yesterday the banks by the bridge had burst and a deep torrent covered the road itself. Enid had reported that she’d had to go the long way round to get to Long Farnden this afternoon.
“Father’s quite worried,” she said to Lois. “He’s never seen the stream so high. And the mill pond’s dangerously full. We could be flooded in the house, he says. He’s been filling sandbags and piling them up at the ready.”
“Did your family ever work the mill?” Lois said. Gran had asked Enid to stay for a cup of tea and have a chat to Jamie, who was down with another sore throat. Tonsils, the doctor had said. Might have to do something about them, old chap. Jamie had made a face, but Lois was concerned that he was missing school and not his cheeky self at all.
Enid shook her head. “Oh no,” she said. “Father’s not a miller! Though he did all kinds of jobs in Edinburgh, school caretaker and so on, but really he’s happiest with just a few beasts and the hens. Reminds him of his childhood. He was injured, you know, at a factory in Scotland, and gets a small pension…just big enough to keep himself and Mother going. And then Edward brought a bit in…well, sometimes…” She tailed off and looked around the kitchen. “What a nice cosy room,” she said. “Are you looking forward to Christmas, Jamie? What’s Father Christmas bringing you?” Jamie winced, but obediently said he was hoping for a piano.
Lois stared at him. “A piano!?” she said. “Since when? You haven’t exactly shone on the violin at school. Why a piano? Which, by the way,” she added, “there’s no chance of your getting. Do you know how much they cost?”
Jamie looked crushed, and nobody said anything for a moment. Then Enid cleared her throat and said in her tentative way, “I might be able to help. The lady at Farnden Manor – you know, where I go on Tuesdays – said she wanted to get rid of one of their pianos. This one’s in the nursery, and never opened now the children are grown.”
