Bulbury Knap by Sheila Spencer-Smith Page B

here, Kathryn.’
    â€˜But I won’t be here?’ To her horror her voice trembled.
    â€˜Hey, hey, we can’t have this.’
    Suddenly his arms were round her and for a moment she leaned against him, grateful for his ready sympathy. He felt solid and comforting. ‘We’ll sort something out,’ he said above her head.
    She heard voices and pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘You’re a good friend, Iain,’ she murmured.
    â€˜More than that, I hope,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘So this Open Day …’
    â€˜On Saturday.’
    â€˜I’ll be here for you, Kathryn,’ he promised.
    *          *          *
    â€˜Andrew is making tea,’ Lady Hewson said as if it was an every day occurrence. ‘Your father will join us very soon, Jane, dear. And now here is Kathryn.’
    Lady Hewson’s face was flushed with pleasure as she introduced them. Jane was standing with her back to the light and Kathryn didn’t notice at first that she had a scar running down her left cheek. She wondered that she didn’t try to camouflage it but Jane’s face was devoid of any makeup as far as she could see. They seated themselves at Lady Hewson’s invitation in the wicker chairs that were placed in readiness on the terrace.
    â€˜This is nice,’ said Lady Hewson.
    Jane was older than Kathryn had imagined, a woman in her fifties with a stocky figure who gave the impression that any problem that reared its head would be dealt with firmly and at once. Her thick neck was almost hidden in the collar of her grey jersey and she wore a huge medallion on a solid chain. She leant confidently back in her chair that gave a little creak as she did so.
    â€˜And so, Kathryn, you’ve been making yourself at home,’ she said in a deep voice that was oddly attractive.
    Kathryn smiled, not quite knowing how to take the remark. ‘Bulbury Knap is an easy place to do that,’ she said.
    â€˜Too right.’
    â€˜And it’s a pleasure to look after your parents.’
    â€˜I see.’
    Lady Hewson leaned forward. ‘What do you see, dear?’
    At that moment Sir Edwin appeared, his stick tapping joyfully on the paving stones. Andrew, bearing a tray, followed him.
    â€˜Put it down there, my boy,’ Sir Edwin said. ‘I think Kathryn had better serve us all.’
    Kathryn hesitated, looking at Lady Hewson to check whether she should proceed. As she said nothing she picked up the teapot and did as she was asked.
    â€˜And you’ve brought the chocolate biscuits,’ Lady Hewson said with pleasure.
    A self-deprecating smile touched one corner of Andrew’s mouth. Obviously out to please, he had seated himself a little to the back of the group.
    Kathryn finished serving everyone and Andrew gave her a nod of dismissal. She caught a look of surprise on Jane’s face as she turned to go but Jane said nothing. Of course this was the moment for some serious talking and Kathryn was not to be part of it.
    *          *          *
    This time there wasn’t the sudden advent of people on the day that Bulbury Knap was thrown open to the general public but rather a slow trickle spread over the whole time.
    Kathryn sank into one of the wicker chairs in the conservatory, too weary to think of finding the others for the moment. She had seen little of Jane all day because Andrew had made himself responsible for escorting her from one place to another, no doubt wanting her to see it all from his point of view.
    But Jane couldn’t fail to have seen the enjoyment of the people who came and how they thronged into Zillah’s exhibition. She knew the takings for this were well up because Iain, who came to help, told her so.
    But was the price too high for Sir Edwin and Lady Hewson? She had caught a glimpse of Sir Edwin