The din from the kitchen had subsided, and Lois refilled Enid’s cup.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’ve told you all this,” Enid said. “How did we get on to Alibone Woods? Oh yes,” she added, with a shaky smile, “it was the bluebells. Wonderful colour, Mrs M, but it never comes out on photos. Something to do with the light.”
As she left, she turned to Lois and said again, “I’m so sorry I went on a bit. It won’t happen again. I so much enjoyed my time with Jamie. Lovely boy. Goodbye for now.”
She was gone quickly, and Lois watched the rear lights of her car vanish down the village street. Poor woman, poor, poor Enid. She thought again about the Alibone Woods story, and could imagine it all. A lovely day spoilt by a wayward son. Was he just wayward, or was it worse than that? Enid had said she was frightened of what he might do. Anyway, he’d certainly discovered a hiding place of some sort, and this piece of information she would pass on to Cowgill. For the rest, it was Enid’s personal life, and Lois would keep it to herself.
¦
Wednesday, and Enid was due at the Charringtons’ at nine o’clock. She had her own key now, in case everybody was out. Rosie took the children to school, and often went on with Anna into Tresham to shop. Sebastian was always off early on his errands of mercy to the livestock of the area. Today, however, he had a day off, and retreated to the small room that had once been old Bell’s farm office to do some paperwork. He was the only person at home, and heard Enid come into the kitchen.
“Morning!” he yelled, in case she should be frightened, thinking the house empty.
She appeared at his door. “Good morning, Mr Charrington,” she said quietly, neat as ever. “Is it all right if I carry on as usual?”
“Yes, of course, why not?”
“Um, well, you are not usually at home…”
“Catching up,” he said, already back into his work. Her silence interrupted him. He looked up, and saw that she was still standing in the doorway. “Was there something else, Enid?” he said. He was never sure about calling her by her Christian name. She was so dignified, so unlike a char, that he felt impertinent. But Enid smiled slightly, and nodded.
“I was wondering,” she said, “if you ever heard any more about poor Rick? Was he found anywhere?”
Her question nudged Sebastian uncomfortably. He repeatedly promised the children that he would go into the woods and have another look for their lost dog. He had little hope of finding him, and he would certainly be as dead as mutton if he did, but he supposed he should do as he promised.
“No, no trace of him. I’m going out to have one more look, just to satisfy the children. They haven’t forgotten, of course, and Rosie has said they can have another puppy once we’re sure Rick’s not coming back.”
“Ah,” said Enid, turning to go, “you might as well just get another puppy straight away. I know dogs, and once they’re gone they seldom return.”
This was so patently untrue that Sebastian stared at her. How many times had relieved dog owners turned up at his surgery with thin, filthy skeleton dogs that had been God knows where for weeks, and then turned up again on the doorstep looking hungry and contrite?
“Not sure you’re right there, Enid,” he said mildly. “Anyway, I promised the children. Might go this afternoon, if it stops raining.”
She nodded seriously and went off. He heard the vacuum cleaner going in the sitting-room, and wondered why he felt as if he had been reproved for not doing as he was told. That was it, he realized. Enid always made him feel as if Nanny was cross with him. He grinned to himself, and got on with his work.
At coffee time, Enid set a steaming mug and a couple of biscuits on his desk. “Still raining, I’m afraid,” she said. “The forecast said it would last all day. February fill-dyke! A bit early, but the seasons are not at all how they used to be.”
“Very true,” said Sebastian absently. He was reading a report on the aftermath of the foot-and-mouth outbreak, about farmers driven into bankruptcy, depression, and one or two to suicide. He was not really listening to Enid.
“Um, I was wondering…?”
“Yes, Enid?” Sebastian looked up, irritated at the interruption.
“Um, I was thinking…Father knows this dog breeder over the other side of Tresham…black Labradors…they always have puppies. Would you like me to get details? I’m sure the children would be excited to have a puppy again.”
Oh dear, thought Sebastian. Nanny does not give up. “Well,” he said, “that would be very useful, once I’m sure we’ve lost poor Rick for good. If you could leave the details with Rosie, that would be most helpful. And thanks for the coffee,” he added. That was a clear dismissal, surely? But Enid was still there, hands neatly folded in front of her.
“So there’ll be little point in trudging through wet woods this afternoon!” she said, almost merrily. “There’s a country house sale viewing day over at Fletching, with some good stuff. Wealthy family moved away. Mrs Charrington was looking for a display cabinet, I know, and you’d more than likely find one there. I used to love going to auction sales…”
Sebastian knew she was expecting a reply, and gave her the one she clearly wanted. “Good idea, Enid,” he said, but added stubbornly, “we can go over straight after I’ve had my sortie in the woods.” So there, Nanny. I’m the boss here. Sebastian smiled at how much disapproval could be expressed by a retreating back. He did not think to wonder why on earth she should be so keen to prevent him blundering about in the woods.
¦
Rosie was delighted at the prospect of snooping round a large country house. She loved to sniff the air and imagine how the family had lived. Servants, gardeners, tennis on summer evenings and impromptu dancing in large drawing-rooms in winter. She would stare at faded photographs of shingled women and doggy-looking gentlemen with large moustaches. Poor things had come to this. Nosy hoards of commoners strolling around private bedrooms, picking up personal possessions, poking into cupboards that had nothing to do with them. Rosie would feel deliriously sad, and when it came to bidding for this or that, she felt she was rescuing a loved item and giving it a home.
“We’ll go as soon as I get back,” said Sebastian, pulling on his boots.
“I’ll come with you,” Rosie said. “I need some air. Anna’s in her room…I’ll tell her we’re out for a bit.”
They set off across the field towards the woods, and Rosie pulled up the hood of her Barbour. “Enid was right,” Sebastian said. “She said it would rain all day.”
“Was she OK today?” Rosie negotiated the gap in the fence where they plunged into the woods. “Fine,” said Sebastian. “Bit stern with me, but fine.”
“Stern?”
“Yep, you know how she is. Bit nannyish. Said I’d be wasting my time looking for Rick again. Tried hard to stop me! Hey, look out, Rosie…it’s very boggy there.”
They had come to a place in the woods where the mill stream ran through on its way to join the river. Sometimes it was a torrent – as now again – and in summer it trickled amiably through grassy banks dotted with wild flowers.
Rosie struggled through the waterlogged ground, and put out a hand to save herself from falling as she stepped over an exposed root. Almost prone, she gasped. “Oops! Give us a hand up,” she said. Sebastian leaned across to help her, and his eye was caught by a patch of freshly turned earth. Moss covered the ground around, but here it was bare.
“Look at that, Rosie,” he said.
“Somebody’s been digging,” she replied, and her heart began to beat fast. “Seb! You don’t think…”
He pulled her free of the bog, and told her to go and sit on a tree stump a few yards away. “Better take a look,” he said, and with a sinking feeling he found a strong stick and began to root around in the loose earth. The stick struck something hard almost straight away. “Rosie!” he shouted. “What? What is it?”
“You’d better go back home now.”
“Why? Have you found something?”
“Just go on back, there’s a love. I shan’t be long.” He watched until she was out of sight, then began to move the loose leaf mould with his bare hands. He continued to scrape gently, his hands covered in wet earth. Finally he sat back on his haunches and stared down. Well, he knew the remains of a black Labrador when he saw one. He
