"You've not been sacked yet then?" Were the words that Peter heard as soon as he set foot inside his sister Mary's house. He could hear the boys thundering around upstairs and saw the back of his sister Winifred's head as she sat at the kitchen table ahead of him.
"Win! Don't…" Mary exclaimed at her before he made it to them, even though the pair were both laughing. Peter just smiled himself. It was a constant running joke between them, said with heartfelt love, that he seemed to move from place to place so much that he was running scared of something or someone. Peter was quite used to the ribbing he got from his sisters and that he gave it back to them tenfold. He kissed his sisters on the cheek and sat at the table, moving aside a pile of sheets and shirts that he could see Mary was about to iron.
"Mare's been telling me you're looking at moving on?" Winifred asked, almost challenging her brother again. She was never one for 'hellos' and always got straight to the point.
"He did" Mary jumped in before Peter could answer, almost defending him from their sister's onslaught and passing him a mug of steaming hot tea. "Apparently there is something going up at Patrington so you might be lucky. John said the Master is looking for a lot more staff apparently and plenty of them. He needs someone to oversee the other grounds staff. He said put in a good word for you".
"To oversee them?" Peter asked, surprised. A promotion? Something more senior? Now that was worth leaving London for let alone the complication with Miss Browne; if it was a complication at all.
Mary nodded. "Supervise them. Twenty odd staff I think John said. Good pay apparently and a cottage to live in in the village so he says".
No more freezing cold attics. That sounded perfect and he had enough experience; gained if only these last few months with the work he had been doing on the London house. No more wondering whether you have made a fool of yourself or looking over your shoulder to wait for the Master to come back to dismiss you. No more wondering what someone thinks.
He had tried to rationalise the incident in the summerhouse as an accident, but he could hardly talk to Miss Browne about it could he? She was so easy to converse with and didn't look down on him…Shut up! Shut up! "Do you know when?" Peter enquired, becoming keener by the day to find something new. He knew this time, he was running away.
Mary shook her head at his question, gently testing the flat iron ready to use; tapping a wet finger to it and hearing it sizzle. "No idea, but be patient! It'll work out in the end. It always does for you!"
Peter sighed. "I just want to get moving Mare" he replied before seeing a look shoot between his sisters. "What?" They didn't answer. "What?"
"We were so pleased you were back down here for a while" Mary began looking over at her sister for support, sitting down with them at the table. "We hoped you might stay a bit longer this time".
"I can still visit or you can bring the kids up there. Yorkshire isn't the other side of the world" he replied with a self-conscious laugh. If there was anyone in London who he could persuade him to stay it was Mary and Win.
Win sighed. "I know…We know".
Peter nodded. He needed something to distract himself. "Do you want me to take the boys to the park before supper?" Playing football or catch with them might make him forget that nagging monster on his shoulder and he was pleased when his sister said yes.
It was creeping closer to six o'clock and Patsy was pacing up and down the hall carpet. The house was otherwise quiet, apart from Chummy who was sitting on the stairs, watching her friend wear a ridge in Mater's Indian rug. She was ansty, jumpy and the reason was very clear.
Delia's train had been due almost half an hour ago and she should be here by now. She won't have got lost, surely?!
Suddenly they heard a car pull up and, after running down the stairs and with a quick glance through the slim window that decorated the side of the front door, Chummy saw who it was and it wasn't Delia.
"That's Gregory's car" Chummy said, pressing her finger tips to the cool glass, almost to ground herself. She recognised it from her trip to the theatre. She was about to open the door when she felt Patsy take hold of her arm.
"I am glad you invited him and that he said yes" Patsy said, disappearing to the casual sitting room to let Chummy greet her guest. The food was already there ready and waiting but they were still missing somebody very important. Chummy was still in two minds about inviting him but it was far too late now. Might he think it pathetic compared to his theatre friends that this 'party' consisted of four?
"Gregory, this is my friend Patience Mount" Chummy said introducing him as the pair walked in. "Patsy, this is Daniel Gregory".
"Hello Miss Mount" he smiled, producing a bottle of vintage Bollinger from underneath his arm. "It was sitting in the cellar and almost asked me itself to come to the party so one couldn't refuse...!" He passed the bottle to Patsy and she smiled before she shook his hand.
"Thank you", Patsy replied, examining the label. Almost a second later the doorbell rang again. "That will be Delia!" she exclaimed passing the bottle to Chummy and leaving her two other companions in her wake to greet her love.
More introductions were made and Chummy surveyed the petite dark haired girl with the lilting Welsh accent; how gentle she seemed to be and above all, what consumed her most was the brightness she could see in Patsy's eyes every time they shared a look or a glance. For a moment, Chummy found herself wondering what it might be like to find that connection with someone. Was Patsy right that she might find it one of these days in Daniel Gregory? It was the looks, the arm around the shoulders, the touch of their knees as they sat together...
The house had not seen such jollity and laughter in a while. It was almost as though it had lifted a dark cloak and for the first time showing off its true colours; even if it were only for a matter of hours or days. They had flitted from topic to topic, seriousness to laughter, stories and tales and Patsy it seemed had been right all along. The insipid badness that had inflicted its presence on their lives these past few weeks had been forgotten. Chummy, however, as the evening and Champagne wore on, needed a few moments to herself and slipped out onto the balcony as Patsy and Delia were closely studying one of her father's books of Yorkshire landscapes. Gregory had spotted her leaving and, when it came to it he was feeling rather the gooseberry with the two other women, so he decided to join her. It might be also an ideal opportunity to ask a question that had been exercising his mind since Othello as well.
"They do seem rather happy together" he said as he stepped up to stand beside her, glass of Champagne still in hand. He stood a respectable two feet away and breathed in the refreshing night air.
"Hmmm?" Chummy replied, admittedly only half hearing his comment as he walked towards her place on the balcony.
"Your Miss Mount and Miss Busby. They look like they suit each other very well", he repeated, seeing a look of confusion cross Chummy's face. "Believe me I am not being patronising, but you are really do not know the ways of the world, do you? It is very obvious to man and animal alive that they have attachment" he offered seeing her drop her head. "I might be an insufferable old bachelor who has never seen the right or wrong side of an altar but I can see love when it presented to me on a plate".
Chummy sighed, looking out over the manicured garden. His words were not harsh by any means but they were dripping with truth. "You are perfectly right", she replied. She was not offended by his comments but she had to quickly correct herself as it was not her news to tell. "Right that I know very little of the world and its ways..."
"One thinks," Gregory began, still cautious primarily due to the fact that twenty five years separated them in age. "I should ask you to come to the theatre again with me shortly, or perhaps the cinema? I heard one is opening up in Walthamstow in the next few days. One has no idea what it might be playing but if you wish to come with me I am told there will be a reception before the showing. One has to go to Berlin at the beginning of next week so perhaps before I go? I will have to find out which day it is opening. "
She found herself saying yes before she could think any further and as the pair wandered back to where Patsy and Delia were sitting, something in Chummy's heart felt rather light. Tonight had not been as bad as her imagination had taunted her with. She liked Delia very much and maybe Gregory didn't think her so insufferable as she thought.
Perhaps the aura of the house was about to change.
Away in the Hereford Arms, only a street or two away from the house, Shelagh glanced at the clock above the bar. She was getting anxious. Whilst Evie had not snapped at her recently she was still too conscious that if she was a minute late that she would very much know about it.
"Penny for them", Patrick said, leaning so he could nudge her shoulder with his, whispering the words in her ear. It made her start she was so far away in her thoughts.
"I have to start the day's work in a few hours", she said, trying to raise her voice above the cacophony of noise and a tinkling out of tune piano. Four and a half hours to be precise.
Patrick smiled. "Then," he began, knowing his day did not start until he was sitting at the breakfast table eating what had been cooked, "we will venture our way back for the sake of your beauty sleep".
She took his arm as they wound their way out of the packed public house and into the night air for the short journey back to the House. They walked mainly in silence down the tree-lined roads, breathing in the comfort of an evening well spent. The streets were quiet – it was almost approaching midnight – and as they rounded the corner of the road 'home' they saw Chummy talking to someone on the steps of the house.
"Who's that?" Shelagh asked. She didn't recognise Gregory from the back in the dark even though he had been at the house before. She just saw a man in a black suit and coat with a Bollman hat under his arm.
"That" Patrick began, "is Daniel Gregory. Solicitor, Freemason, son of the late Sir Lawrence Gregory, Sixth Baron of Ravensmoor and I might add, Miss Browne's…." he struggled for the world. "Suitor. It seems".
"How did you know that?" Shelagh asked, deliberately beginning to walk slowly half wanting to spend as many minute with Patrick as she could but also if this Daniel Gregory was a suitor, the last thing she wanted to do was walk up to the house before he was gone.
"You learn a lot driving all and sundry around all, Shelagh" he smiled. "Things you want to hear, things you don't! Things you are not meant to hear…" She could not miss the concerned look he had on his face as they both saw the visitor kiss Chummy on the cheek before he bounced down the stone stairs to the front door and his car. Shelagh did not press further though.
"I don't think it seems he is her suitor", Shelagh noted.
"No" Patrick replied, careful to choose his words. He was protective of her but if it wasn't for Chummy they would not have had that rather wonderful day in Brighton or indeed this night off. He still wasn't sure about this development though and it unnerved him.
Perhaps he would keep a close eye on matters as they unfolded.