leave her to cope?’
‘Oh, you wouldn’t call them jaunts,’ said Ransome seriously. ‘There’s a lot of business to see to on the mainland. We haven’t a bank or a doctor on the island, that’s for one thing. Nor have we any newspapers, except when the boat comes in. Then there’s all the wholesale stuff. I told you what my dad, from the farm, and I, from my holding, can supply, but that doesn’t begin to add up to all that’s needed to run that hotel. Strikes me she didn’t know what she was letting herself in for when she took it on. Then the servants. Always changing, they are. Don’t like being stuck out here with only one pub and no cinema. Dull it is, and those who aren’t daft are devils.’
‘We passed some cottages,’ said Margaret.
‘Ah, yes, you would, coming this way from the hotel, but they’re only for farm-workers. Our men, well, they’re born and bred on the island, though, even then, the young ones hop it as soon as ever they can. When Dad goes, the farm will go, I reckon, because there won’t be anyone left to work it. The young fellows won’t stay, and I certainly couldn’t manage single-handed.’
‘How would you like to manage the hotel?’ asked Margaret, hoping this would be answered as though it was a different and an even more personal question. Ransome laughed.
‘I reckon Connie Crimp has her eye on the management of that,’ he said, ‘and I wish her joy of it. It wouldn’t be my cup of tea. I’d sooner own a lunatic asylum than try to run a hotel.’
‘You could always sell it, if it were yours,’ said Sebastian.
‘No chance of that, not with all that’s owing on it, if all that you hear is true.’
‘Owing on it? Is it mortgaged, then?’ asked Sebastian.
‘Oh, no, it isn’t mortgaged—not yet. It’s all the improvements, you see. Dad says not half of them have begun to be paid for.’
‘Well, let’s hope the naturalists will sub up handsomely,’ said Margaret. ‘Thanks ever so much for the tea, Cousin Ransome.’
‘You must come again,’ he said, ‘when Dad and Lucy are at home. Lucy is Dad’s wife, by the way.’
‘I suppose,’ said Margaret, when they were on their way back, ‘we’d better stay in the hotel tomorrow with The Tutor. He’ll expect us to be on hand to greet Aunt Eliza when she lands. Have you got your party piece ready? I do think she’s behaved a bit coolly, don’t you? I wonder what she’s really like.’
They were not to know. The Saturday boat came in and went out to the steamer again. It repeated this manoeuvre half-a-dozen times from ten in the morning onwards. Marius and his children waited on the cliff-top as the boat continued to land the bird-watchers, but Eliza did not appear. When it ceased its ferrying and the steamer was lost to sight round a headland, the three returned to the hotel.
‘We must somehow have missed her,’ said Marius, ‘although, even after all these years, I would have thought I’d recognise her and she me.’
They found a peevish Miss Crimp behind the desk.
‘There’s only one explanation that I can think of,’ she said. ‘Eliza must have gone straight to the farm to make sure of the eggs, milk and butter. She must realise how pressed I am and thinks she had better take something off my hands, I suppose, however late in the day.’
‘Surely somebody else could have gone to the farm,’ said Marius, answering her peevish tone with his own. ‘I should have thought her first consideration would have been to greet her own brother and his children.’
‘Consideration?’ snorted Miss Crimp, her colour high and her nostrils pinched. ‘Eliza Chayleigh doesn’t know the meaning of that word. Oh, and I’m afraid Miss Lovelaine won’t be able to take any more baths in the house. I noticed she has been bringing her things over here since you arrived. I have far too many guests in the place already. I cannot have the chalet people taking bathrooms which the residents require. There is a perfectly adequate bath-house for chalet visitors.’
‘Now about this bathroom nonsense!’ said Marius testily. ‘I am paying full rates and I insist upon all the facilities of the hotel being open to my daughter.’
‘I am sorry, Mr Lovelaine—’
‘Otherwise I cancel my booking immediately.’
‘Oh, it’s all right, Father,’ said Margaret. ‘I can manage, and we can’t get back to the mainland until Wednesday, anyhow. By that time things will begin to straighten out.’
‘If I had realised that you two were to be relegated to an annexe,’ fumed Marius, leading his children towards the lounge, ‘I would never have come. The whole set-up is most unsatisfactory, and what your mother would have made of the arrangements I do not know.’
‘Just as well she didn’t come, then,’ said Sebastian. ‘We had rather an interesting time this afternoon, Father. We had tea at the farm.’
‘Oh, do they provide teas? Was there clotted cream? I have seen no sign of any at the hotel, so, as we have to pay separately for teas, anyhow, which I regard as an unwarranted extortion, we may as well go over to the farm in future. What sort of price did they charge you?’
‘Oh, I don’t think they provide teas in that sort of way,’ said Sebastian. ‘We received an invitation. Did you know, Father, that the farmer is the man who got Aunt Eliza—I mean the man who was responsible for Ransome?’
‘Did you meet him?’
‘No, we didn’t. It was Ransome who invited us. The farmer and his wife had gone over to the mainland.’
‘To tell Aunt Eliza to hurry back to the hotel and help Miss Crimp to cope,’ explained Margaret.
‘I am sorry you had any contact with Ransome.’
‘We didn’t mean to,’ said Margaret quickly. ‘It was just that we ran into him on Thursday when we were passing the farm.’
‘Nevertheless, it was unfortunate.’
‘I don’t see why. Once this holiday is over I don’t suppose we shall ever see or speak to him again.’
‘One thing,’ said Sebastian, ‘Aunt Eliza can’t hold anything against the farmer if she buys his produce and if Ransome supplies the hotel vegetables. Do you think, Father, that she’ll leave the hotel to Ransome in her will?’
‘The hotel is not hers to dispose of,’ said Marius testily, ‘not entirely, that is. I wish I had known of this partnership before I answered Lizzie’s letter and booked our rooms. It upsets everything.’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry, Father,’ said Margaret.
‘Oh, quite, quite, my dear. I shall not refer to it again. It is unfortunate that I committed myself without knowing the facts, that is all. No blame attaches to you. We should never have come here. Your mother was right. I can see that now. And, Margaret, there is
‘Aunt Eliza’s partner,’ said Sebastian.
‘We have only her word for that. She would scarcely be a full partner, anyway. I daresay she has bought herself a few shares and is trading on the fact. I shall be very glad to meet Lizzie and see that upstart person put in her place.’
‘I don’t really mind about the bath, father,’ insisted Margaret. ‘I don’t want a fuss. It isn’t worth it. Let’s talk it over with Aunt Eliza tonight and let her settle it.’
‘Very well,’ agreed Marius, who was not anxious to try conclusions with Miss Crimp until he was sure of his ground. ‘Well, I will see you at table.’
This promise was fulfilled, but enquiry at the desk beforehand produced no news of Lizzie.
‘Would she stay for dinner at the farm, do you suppose?’ asked Sebastian, as they began their meal.
‘Goodness knows!’ his father irritably responded. ‘I certainly feel in no mood to meet her tonight. I cannot understand her. Having invited us here, she might at least have had the decency to be on view when we arrived. I hope it is not a deliberate slight.’
‘Did you have a
‘No, of course not. It was for my parents to dictate my course of action, for I was only a youth at the time of Lizzie’s foolishness.’
‘But something happened after that, didn’t it?’ said Sebastian. ‘Wasn’t there a row of some sort at your wedding?’
‘I expect it was Boobie,’ muttered Margaret. ‘Boobie and Grandmamma between them.’
