‘Not at all, here.’
‘You’ll need a dish cloth, they’re awfully warm.’
‘It’s okay, my hands can cope.’
‘Surely not. Oh my. Look at that. Yous have a magic talent there.’
I stretched out a foot to push open the swing door and stepped carefully into the dining room.
‘Whoa, Susie. You gave me a fright.’ Ewen almost dropped the empty jug in his hand. A slight overreaction I’d say.
‘Sorry.’
‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m just going to put these in there.’
Ewen slid back the door of the Belling and I placed them in. Then swinging the jug in his left hand, he told me he’d been on filling-up-the-water-glasses duty.
I giggled at the childishness of it and looked at my feet. There was a packet of pills on the floor. ‘Piriton, how odd.’ They were now in my hand. ‘It’s not really hayfever time of year.’
‘They’ll be Zoe’s I bet.’ He snatched them off me. ‘I’ll make sure they go back to the right place.’
‘What if they belong to one of the students?’
‘Nah, they would’ve said.’
Haggis came racing into the dining room, ragging around shaking his wet coat. Fergus was close behind him with a large torch in his hand. ‘Here you two are,’ he said. ‘Ewen? Were you snooping at what’s for dinner?’
‘He was filling the water glasses,’ I said, laughing under my breath.
‘Really?’ said Fergus, raising his eyebrows, and Ewen’s matching ones rose in return. ‘A house full of people to impress?’
‘Quite right,’ nodded Ewen.
‘Susie,’ said Fergus, ‘I’m about to start a tour of the pictures. Everyone’s gathered in the snug.’
‘Marvellous,’ said Ewen.
‘It’s not compulsory,’ insinuated Fergus. ‘Perhaps you’d like to re-park your van instead?’
‘Ha, ha, very funny. Far too cold and wet to move it away from the steps and there’s no chance I’m missing your tour.’
Ewen shadowed us both as we went to the library.
‘For those of you who haven’t met,’ said Zoe, ‘this is Fergus’s brother, Ewen.’
‘You don’t say,’ said Shane.
‘Absolutely bloody identical,’ shouted Lianne as both Ewen and Fergus shrugged their right shoulders.
‘Fergus,’ said Rupert, ‘is that a Cotman to the left of the door?’
‘That’s not Cotman,’ said Minty. ‘It’s too misty for one of his watercolours.’
‘It’s a nineteenth-century copy of an early Turner street scene.’
‘In Margate,’ added Zoe.
‘Has anyone seen that film with Timothy Spall?’ said Jane.
‘Yes,’ grinned Ewen. ‘Got the measure of Turner spot on; very good painter, very dull man.’
Felicity giggled.
‘Our picture collection is limited, but in good condition,’ began Fergus. ‘If there’s something our father cared for it was paintings. He had a sort of eternal affection for the past and the Muchton collection tells a story. I’m going to take you round a selection and hopefully you’ll make sense of this.’
Fergus crossed the room to the Victorian writing bureau, looked up at a trompe-l’oeil still life of a letter rack above it and turned on the torch.
‘That makes a huge difference,’ said Rupert. ‘I can see every detail of the painting now. What a clever idea of yours.’
‘Daddy always takes a torch when he goes to an auction,’ said Minty.
‘And mine,’ said Giles.
Jane had a pair of spectacles on a string round her neck and as she forced them into an indent on the bridge of her nose, she held her face up to the painting and proclaimed, ‘1662.’
‘Jesus it’s old,’ said Shane. ‘And when did you take up wearing glasses?’
She prodded his shoulder. ‘Some of us have to for reading.’
‘Righto,’ said Fergus, ‘I don’t want to spend too much time on this painting. It was bought by the 1st Earl and I only wanted to draw your attention to the overlapping playing cards in the bottom right. They allude to contemporary political issues at the time. Scotland with its lion and England with three lions…’
‘That’s because we’re three times mightier,’ Giles interrupted.
‘Do you go to Eton?’ said Ewen.
‘No.’
‘Ah.’
‘Who’s it by?’ said Minty. ‘I rather like it.’
‘Thomas Warrender.’
‘I’ve never heard of him before?’
‘He was mainly a decorative painter. This is one of very few oil paintings by him.’
‘Perfect place for it near your desk,’ said Rupert.
‘Isn’t it,’ exclaimed Felicity having only just twigged.
Fergus turned off the torch and as he led us out of the room behind the staircase, Ewen took it upon himself to set Giles straight. ‘King James VI of Scotland unified the Scottish and English crowns in 1603. This is what the playing cards symbolise. Scotland was far mightier…and in charge.’
‘Angel,’ called Zoe from the back of the group, ‘I’m going to leave you to it if that’s okay.’
‘Of course, you’ve heard it all before.’
Ewen caught my eye as he pulled the packet of Piriton out of his pocket and handed it to Zoe. Her brow ruffled, he whispered something in her ear and she slipped them into her pocket with a glance towards her husband. Ewen nodded at me. I smiled, he’d been right.
The torch was back on and Fergus drew our attention to a painting in the most elaborate gold-leaf frame. ‘This scene painted by Allan Ramsay is of George III’s coronation in 1761.’
‘The original?’ said Rupert.
Louis sneered at Ewen.
‘It’s one of many replicas. A very important marker for our family, as it was their loyalty to the King during the Jacobite Rebellion as well as their modest contribution to the cost of George III’s coronation that bestowed an Earldom on them.’
‘So, your family didn’t support the Jacobites?’ said Louis, with a huff.
‘No offence,’ said Ewen, tapping his friend on the shoulder. ‘We were followers of John Knox, we’re Presbyterians, so the Jacobites didn’t hold any draw for us.’
‘Did you buy your title then?’ said Lianne.
Fergus launched into a lengthy reply. ‘Our family were on the up, the Highland Clearances had gained momentum and, I’m not proud to say, the Muchtons moved away from loyalty and honour to profit, turning their back on the people who worked the land. Thanks to the union of the Kingdoms of Scotland and England in 1707 and the booming trade with the colonies they were well placed to capitalise
