seen Robert, she wondered? The boys had been at school, she remembered. It must be more than ten, though he and Peter had met occasionally during that time.
She dwelt, with some satisfaction, on the meal she had prepared. Everything had gone well. It was bound to be appreciated.
The car arrived and after affectionate greetings, they took their drinks into the garden. The windows of all three cottages stood open. There was no breeze, the air was warm and still, disturbed only by a flight of swifts that were screaming round the village and passed over Tyler's Row, now and again, in their career.
'It's good to be back,' said Robert, his face tilted to watch the birds. 'Do you know it's three years since I've been in England?'
'Is Hong Kong so attractive?'
Robert was in banking and had been abroad for over seven years.
'It is, of course. But it's not that. Somehow I seem to have spent "all my leaves elsewhere. My mother and sister are in France now, and I usually go there.'
'How did the boys enjoy your talk?' asked Diana.
'Never seen them so attentive,' said Peter. 'Not since we had that aged general who kept walking about so near the edge of the platform that they held their breath waiting for him to fall off.'
Robert laughed.
'The slides accounted for the attention. Hong Kong is very photogenic. But tell me all the news. How are the boys? And what about the Caxley friends? And how is it working out here? I must say, it all looks marvellous. You've done some good work in this garden.'
'Come and see the vegetable patch,' said Peter, when Robert had finished admiring the flowers. 'Not that we grow much, but Diana thinks a few early potatoes are worthwhile, and lettuces and runner-beans.'
'I grow peas too. Not potatoes though. Never touch 'em. My waist-line won't stand it.'
Diana congratulated herself silently on the large green salad which awaited them. The new potatoes, simmering gently on the stove, would obviously only be eaten by the Hales.
'Sometimes I wonder,' went on Robert, gazing at the young lettuces, 'if exercise helps at all.'
'Of course it does,' said Peter, mounting his hobby-horse. 'Half today's ills are caused through lack of exercise and fresh air.'
'Well, I play golf regularly, and spend a month salmon-fishing with old Craig. Remember him?'
Peter nodded.
'Salmon's rather fattening, I believe,' said Peter.
'I never eat the stuff, anyway,' said Robert. 'Friends get any I catch.'
Peter opened his mouth, caught Diana's eye, and said nothing.
'I must go and dish up,' said Diana, hoping that the tin-opener was in working order. At that moment, the sound of a brass-band, energetically playing 'The Turkish March', came from Sergeant Burnaby's windows. The old soldier must have had the volume well turned up, for the rhythm throbbed through the still air, shattering the evening's peace.
'Well, let's hope that soon stops,' commented Peter, watching his wife disappear.
They ate their melon to a musical accompaniment, although the sound was slightly less formidable indoors.
'Ham and tongue,' announced Diana, bearing in the dish.
'Delicious!' said Robert, rubbing his hands together.
Peter said nothing, as he took up the carving knife and fork, but his look of conspiratorial admiration pleased his wife.
Just then, Sergeant Burnaby's radio let forth a prolonged scream, then some whoops, and finally settled down to emit a strident tune with plenty of tympani in evidence. The cottage shook, and a copper bowl on the Hales' mantelpiece began to throb in sympathy.
'I do apologise for this,' said Peter. 'It's worse than it's ever been.'
'Tell me about your neighbours,' said Robert. 'I'm really interested. I never see mine in Hong Kong. I take it one of yours is deaf?'
Diana laughed, grateful to him for the easy way in which he was dealing with the situation. He seemed genuinely amused by the racket next door. Peter, on the other hand, was becoming more furious each minute.
During the strawberry mousse the
She dwelt, with some satisfaction, on the meal she had prepared. Everything had gone well. It was bound to be appreciated.
The car arrived and after affectionate greetings, they took their drinks into the garden. The windows of all three cottages stood open. There was no breeze, the air was warm and still, disturbed only by a flight of swifts that were screaming round the village and passed over Tyler's Row, now and again, in their career.
'It's good to be back,' said Robert, his face tilted to watch the birds. 'Do you know it's three years since I've been in England?'
'Is Hong Kong so attractive?'
Robert was in banking and had been abroad for over seven years.
'It is, of course. But it's not that. Somehow I seem to have spent "all my leaves elsewhere. My mother and sister are in France now, and I usually go there.'
'How did the boys enjoy your talk?' asked Diana.
'Never seen them so attentive,' said Peter. 'Not since we had that aged general who kept walking about so near the edge of the platform that they held their breath waiting for him to fall off.'
Robert laughed.
'The slides accounted for the attention. Hong Kong is very photogenic. But tell me all the news. How are the boys? And what about the Caxley friends? And how is it working out here? I must say, it all looks marvellous. You've done some good work in this garden.'
'Come and see the vegetable patch,' said Peter, when Robert had finished admiring the flowers. 'Not that we grow much, but Diana thinks a few early potatoes are worthwhile, and lettuces and runner-beans.'
'I grow peas too. Not potatoes though. Never touch 'em. My waist-line won't stand it.'
Diana congratulated herself silently on the large green salad which awaited them. The new potatoes, simmering gently on the stove, would obviously only be eaten by the Hales.
'Sometimes I wonder,' went on Robert, gazing at the young lettuces, 'if exercise helps at all.'
'Of course it does,' said Peter, mounting his hobby-horse. 'Half today's ills are caused through lack of exercise and fresh air.'
'Well, I play golf regularly, and spend a month salmon-fishing with old Craig. Remember him?'
Peter nodded.
'Salmon's rather fattening, I believe,' said Peter.
'I never eat the stuff, anyway,' said Robert. 'Friends get any I catch.'
Peter opened his mouth, caught Diana's eye, and said nothing.
'I must go and dish up,' said Diana, hoping that the tin-opener was in working order. At that moment, the sound of a brass-band, energetically playing 'The Turkish March', came from Sergeant Burnaby's windows. The old soldier must have had the volume well turned up, for the rhythm throbbed through the still air, shattering the evening's peace.
'Well, let's hope that soon stops,' commented Peter, watching his wife disappear.
They ate their melon to a musical accompaniment, although the sound was slightly less formidable indoors.
'Ham and tongue,' announced Diana, bearing in the dish.
'Delicious!' said Robert, rubbing his hands together.
Peter said nothing, as he took up the carving knife and fork, but his look of conspiratorial admiration pleased his wife.
Just then, Sergeant Burnaby's radio let forth a prolonged scream, then some whoops, and finally settled down to emit a strident tune with plenty of tympani in evidence. The cottage shook, and a copper bowl on the Hales' mantelpiece began to throb in sympathy.
'I do apologise for this,' said Peter. 'It's worse than it's ever been.'
'Tell me about your neighbours,' said Robert. 'I'm really interested. I never see mine in Hong Kong. I take it one of yours is deaf?'
Diana laughed, grateful to him for the easy way in which he was dealing with the situation. He seemed genuinely amused by the racket next door. Peter, on the other hand, was becoming more furious each minute.
During the strawberry mousse the
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