said, when she came into the room, ‘splendid! Now I can ring for cocktails. I was getting desperate. Well, and how are you? Have you recovered from Christmas?’
‘Oh, yes. I always keep it in Oxfordshire.’
‘Why Oxfordshire?’
‘My favourite nephew and his wife live there, and, as a family, we all tend to gravitate to them when there is more work than usual, as at Christmastide, to be done. Shopping, catering and fitting guests into appropriate spaces seems to be water off a duck’s back where they are concerned, and one always takes advantage of that sort of hospitality. One cherishes the illusion in such households that one is no trouble.’
‘It’s the same here. This is a very well-run house. The housekeeper is completely efficient and completely unobtrusive. I always enjoy staying with Chantrey. I wonder what it will be like with Linda at the helm?’
‘There will probably be less efficiency for a time, but Sir Bohun, I hope, will prefer it. Of course, Miss Campbell may elect to keep the housekeeper in her present position of authority.’
‘I shouldn’t be surprised. I fancy Linda is a lazy little baggage. Why on earth Chantrey wants to get tied up to her I can’t for the life of me imagine. They don’t hit it off a bit. She’s always nagging the man. If it’s like that now, I simply can’t think what it will be like when they’re married.’
Mrs Bradley could not, either. She took a glass of sherry from the tray that was held out to her, sipped it appreciatively, and then remarked:
‘I did not see you at tea.’
‘I had it in the billiard-room with Lupez. Can’t stick listening to Chantrey and the Campbell bickering. (You can’t call it anything else.) It gives me the willies to hear her bullying the poor chap all the time. She’s going to do this; she’s not going to have that; she’s going to sack Grimston … that bird’s getting pretty well browned-off, I can tell you. One of these days he’s going to beat her up and walk out of this house. He’s one of those slow-combustion maniacs, and he’s sweet on the nasty little shrew. Did he but know it, he’s had a lucky escape, but he hasn’t got around to that yet. Mind if I have a cigarette? Would you care for one, too?’
The next confidante was Nanny Call, and after her came Manoel.
‘There’s going to be trouble, madam,’ said the pleasant-faced, elderly woman when Mrs Bradley asked her, when she met her on one of the landings after dinner, how the children were getting on.
‘How do you mean, Mrs Call?’ Mrs Bradley enquired. She did not gossip with servants unless she was engaged upon detective work, but she knew that Nanny Call was sensible and discreet, a decent, staunch old body.
‘She’s going to make him turn those little children out, madam. What’s more, she must have told Master Philip so. He came to me in real distress the other day. “Nanny,” he says to me – as white as a sheet he was, and his eyes like saucers – “Nanny,” he says, “if she turns us out, where shall we go? I don’t want to go to an orphanage,” he says, “and that’s the only thing I can see for it if she won’t let us stay here.” Did you ever , madam! Wicked and cruel, I call it, and when I get my notice I’m going to tell her so! But what can you expect of a jumped-up, common little thing like that!’
‘It is extraordinary that people will torture children,’ said Mrs Bradley, who did, indeed, find this the most extraordinary of all human aberrations. ‘It satisfies some feeling of egoism, I suppose. It makes one wonder whether cruelty is not one of the natural instincts. So many people are cruel that it seems cruelty must be part of our nature, doesn’t it?’
‘Master Philip is such a sensitive boy,’ said Mrs Call, not attempting to answer Mrs Bradley’s question. ‘But the trouble is, madam, that if she’s made up her mind to have him and little Master Timothy – who’s really no more than a baby
‘Oh, yes. I always keep it in Oxfordshire.’
‘Why Oxfordshire?’
‘My favourite nephew and his wife live there, and, as a family, we all tend to gravitate to them when there is more work than usual, as at Christmastide, to be done. Shopping, catering and fitting guests into appropriate spaces seems to be water off a duck’s back where they are concerned, and one always takes advantage of that sort of hospitality. One cherishes the illusion in such households that one is no trouble.’
‘It’s the same here. This is a very well-run house. The housekeeper is completely efficient and completely unobtrusive. I always enjoy staying with Chantrey. I wonder what it will be like with Linda at the helm?’
‘There will probably be less efficiency for a time, but Sir Bohun, I hope, will prefer it. Of course, Miss Campbell may elect to keep the housekeeper in her present position of authority.’
‘I shouldn’t be surprised. I fancy Linda is a lazy little baggage. Why on earth Chantrey wants to get tied up to her I can’t for the life of me imagine. They don’t hit it off a bit. She’s always nagging the man. If it’s like that now, I simply can’t think what it will be like when they’re married.’
Mrs Bradley could not, either. She took a glass of sherry from the tray that was held out to her, sipped it appreciatively, and then remarked:
‘I did not see you at tea.’
‘I had it in the billiard-room with Lupez. Can’t stick listening to Chantrey and the Campbell bickering. (You can’t call it anything else.) It gives me the willies to hear her bullying the poor chap all the time. She’s going to do this; she’s not going to have that; she’s going to sack Grimston … that bird’s getting pretty well browned-off, I can tell you. One of these days he’s going to beat her up and walk out of this house. He’s one of those slow-combustion maniacs, and he’s sweet on the nasty little shrew. Did he but know it, he’s had a lucky escape, but he hasn’t got around to that yet. Mind if I have a cigarette? Would you care for one, too?’
The next confidante was Nanny Call, and after her came Manoel.
‘There’s going to be trouble, madam,’ said the pleasant-faced, elderly woman when Mrs Bradley asked her, when she met her on one of the landings after dinner, how the children were getting on.
‘How do you mean, Mrs Call?’ Mrs Bradley enquired. She did not gossip with servants unless she was engaged upon detective work, but she knew that Nanny Call was sensible and discreet, a decent, staunch old body.
‘She’s going to make him turn those little children out, madam. What’s more, she must have told Master Philip so. He came to me in real distress the other day. “Nanny,” he says to me – as white as a sheet he was, and his eyes like saucers – “Nanny,” he says, “if she turns us out, where shall we go? I don’t want to go to an orphanage,” he says, “and that’s the only thing I can see for it if she won’t let us stay here.” Did you ever , madam! Wicked and cruel, I call it, and when I get my notice I’m going to tell her so! But what can you expect of a jumped-up, common little thing like that!’
‘It is extraordinary that people will torture children,’ said Mrs Bradley, who did, indeed, find this the most extraordinary of all human aberrations. ‘It satisfies some feeling of egoism, I suppose. It makes one wonder whether cruelty is not one of the natural instincts. So many people are cruel that it seems cruelty must be part of our nature, doesn’t it?’
‘Master Philip is such a sensitive boy,’ said Mrs Call, not attempting to answer Mrs Bradley’s question. ‘But the trouble is, madam, that if she’s made up her mind to have him and little Master Timothy – who’s really no more than a baby
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