Hints, Innuendos, and Pies
Mr. Humphries and Mavis sat at the large kitchen table enjoying a friendly cup of tea while they cleaned up a large cache of apples they had gathered in the far orchard. Time and neglect had rendered the orchard a tangled mess of brambles and largely defunct, overgrown trees. They managed to salvage a large bucket of apples from their journey. Wielding paring knives and potato peelers, they cut around the ugly, gnarled spots and found the apples to be quite tasty. They had enough apples to make two pies and Mavis began to mix a double batch of pastry.
"Oh, these pies are going to be lovely for after dinner, Mr. Humphries!" Mavis bubbled.
"They certainly are! You know, I can't remember the last time I had pie made from fresh-picked apples. Once you clean the blemishes off, these apples are really quite good."
"We just don't have enough hands to tend to that orchard properly," she lamented, "It's gone to pot over the past couple of years. Dad usually walks the goats down there and lets them eat the apples off the ground."
Miss Brahms, fresh from her venture into town with Mrs. Slocombe and Captain Peacock, joined them. She retrieved a beaker from the cupboard and poured herself a cup of tea. The spoon tink-tink-tinked against the side of the cup as she stirred in a bit of sugar and milk.
Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe retired to the lounge.
"Have you two noticed anything going on between Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe?" she intimated, piquing their interest.
"No, I can't recall anything off-hand that looked suspicious," Mr. Humphries' eyebrows furrowed and he thought for a moment.
"What are you trying to say, Miss Brahms?" Mavis questioned, "If my dad knew I was gossiping, he'd give me the strap!"
"It's probably nothing," Miss Brahms insinuated, "But, on our outing, they were sitting awfully close and Mrs. Slocombe was holding his arm. I caught them making eyes at each other a few times."
"No!" Mr. Humphries interjected, "That doesn't mean anything, Miss Brahms. Mrs. Slocombe is friendly with everyone."
"When have you ever known Captain Peacock to be sweet on her?"
"Well," he said reluctantly, "You do have a point there."
"It's probably nothing," Mavis firmly stated.
"Here, make yourself useful," Mr. Humphries instructed, pushing a pile of apples toward Miss Brahms, "Take some of these apples. We're cutting the bumps and ugly spots off. They need to be peeled and cut up. When you're done, put them in a bowl. Put the scraps in the bucket for the pigs."