A Winter’s Tale (30 page)

‘What a pity Jack had to rush off like that, Sophy, just when you were getting on so well,’ Aunt Hebe said, anointing her roast beef with a generous libation of horseradish sauce. ‘I am so glad, it will be the perfect solution.’

‘What will?’ Ottie asked, looking up from her plate. ‘Solution to what?’

Hebe ignored her. ‘Poor Jack was terribly hurt that William didn’t leave Winter’s End to him, and he hates the idea of it being commercialised and spoiled when there is no need for it. It should be his—and, of course, if he and Sophy make a match of it, then it
will
be!’

I nearly choked on my roast parsnip.

‘We’re not going to make a match of it, Aunt Hebe,’ I said firmly. ‘Fond though I am of him, of course, we won’t be traipsing together down the aisle together any time soon.’

‘Yes, aren’t you going a bit fast?’ Ottie demanded crisply. ‘Sophy hardly knows the man! And she hasn’t so far struck me as being
entirely
stupid either, even if Jack has been turning on the charm.’

‘I expect you are worried that Melinda is still around such a lot, Sophy,’ Aunt Hebe said kindly, ‘since she is so terribly attractive
and
wealthy. But Jack has assured me that it isn’t
him
she comes to Winter’s End to see, but Seth, so there is no need to be jealous.’

‘I’m not jealous,’ I said flatly and rather untruthfully.

Seth, who had been quietly but methodically demolishing roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, looked up. ‘Mel loves the
thrill of the chase, so I expect she’s trying to use me to make Jack fall back into line with the rest of her numerous admirers.’

Going by what I had seen and heard in the graveyard, I thought Seth was seriously underestimating her interest in him.

‘Oh, no, Seth,’ Aunt Hebe said, ‘Jack isn’t interested in Melinda in the least, he told me so.
You
were the one who was devastated when she married Seldon. I remember William saying that you had sworn never to marry anyone else. And you haven’t, have you?’

He coloured slightly under his tan. ‘That was an awfully long time ago!’

‘Yes, and even though he hasn’t married, he hasn’t exactly lived like a monk for the last twenty years, pining for his lost love,’ Ottie pointed out. ‘Far from it!’

‘Thanks, Ottie,’ he said, deadpan.

‘And when she came back and the unattainable became the opposite, I expect you quickly got her out of your system,’ she said kindly.

‘Look, could we leave my personal life out of this? Mel was just a youthful folly and I think we’re all entitled to at least one of those,’ he said, looking as embarrassed as any teenager being quizzed by his elders about his love life.

‘I’d agree with that,’ I said, thinking of my brief marriage, ‘and I’m not about to commit any more, youthful or otherwise. I’m sorry, Aunt Hebe, but though I’m already very fond of Jack, it’s just in a sisterly sort of way.’

Ottie nodded agreement, but Seth was looking so sceptical that I would have thrown my dinner at him, had I not somehow managed to clear the plate while we were talking.

It was clear from Aunt Hebe’s expression that she didn’t really believe I could resist Jack’s charms either, however much I protested.

And unfortunately, I feared, neither did Jack.

*  *  *

I tossed and turned all night, going over and over everything, so I was bleary-eyed by the time I reached the estate office that morning. You’d think I would fall into a stupor of exhaustion every time I climbed into my gorgeous antique bed—but no, I am Sleepless in Sticklepond, which doesn’t sound quite as romantic as Seattle…

Mr Yatton, who had enough energy for both of us, had already made more appointments for me with the accountant and Mr Hobbs.

By mid-morning, after some lively bargaining in the stables, he had also closed the deal on the fountain for more money than I thought anyone would be prepared to pay for a limp stone girl with a deformed duck, and started looking into the price of airline tickets back from Japan on the internet, just in case.

I did some calculations with what was left of the money and decided to have Alys Blezzard’s portrait sent away for cleaning, buy Grace the Dysons of her dreams, Seth his rose bushes (as a sweetener to his temper), and have the Larks’ rooms redecorated and a shower installed…And that would probably be it, apart from a small contingency fund.

‘The next step is to sell the Herring painting,’ Mr Yatton said, ‘which should fetch enough for you to begin upgrading the visitor facilities. Would you like me to contact the auction house?’

I’d brought the painting down to the office that morning, and it was really rather nice…but the house was nicer, so it would have to be sacrificed for the greater good. ‘Yes, please.’

Jonah popped his head in and said, ‘Sophy, there’s a delivery van just been from an outfit called Stately Solutions. Where do you want all the boxes put?’

‘In the cleaning room. I’ll come in a minute and sort it out. Thanks, Jonah.’

Mr Yatton supplied me with sticky labels and a marker pen, and Mrs Lark some large empty jam jars, and I went off to unpack everything. When it was labelled and stowed away, I called Grace in for a little chat.

She looked around the room curiously. ‘Well, you have been busy!’

‘Yes, as you see, Grace, I’m making one or two changes, though it shouldn’t affect you too much. I’m very happy with your work and I don’t want to change your routine. I still want you to change the beds and do the bathrooms on your regular days, sort out the laundry, and clean all the floors. But you won’t need to worry about any further cleaning, dusting, or polishing, because I intend doing the rest of it myself.’

‘You mean I’ll have
less
to do?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘Do you want me to come in fewer days, then?’

‘No, exactly the same as you do now.’

She knitted her brows. ‘So you want me to do less work in the same hours?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘For the same money?’ She clearly thought I was quite mad.

‘Yes. Now, there are just a couple of things I’d like to change about the way you clean. First, I’m going to buy two Dyson cleaners, one to be kept upstairs in the housemaid’s cupboard, and one down here.’

Her eyes lit up. ‘That’ll make a difference!’

‘I hope so. Now, see these little foam rubber cylinders? They fit onto the end of vacuum cleaner hoses, so that when you’re cleaning around furniture and into corners with the nozzle, things don’t get banged and scratched.’

I demonstrated with the end of the old Hoover. ‘Could you remember to start doing that right away?’

‘All right,’ she said absently. I think her mind was full of Dyson dreams.

‘The other major change is that all floor washing is to be done with this special solution.’ I showed her the container. ‘You need only this capful in your bucket; a little goes a long way.’

‘Can I put a bit of bleach in with that?’ she asked doubtfully.

‘Absolutely not. You need only this stuff, nothing else.’

‘I always put a bit of bleach in,’ she said stubbornly, ‘especially in the bathrooms.’

‘It will be best if you clean everything with the solution from now on, including the bathroom floors, otherwise you would have to keep a separate bucket and mop for bleach because you couldn’t use the same one for both. Now, do you think you could do those things for me?’

‘If you like. When will I be getting the Dysons, then? Mrs Lark’s got an Argos catalogue in the kitchen; they’ve got them in that.’

‘Perhaps you could get the catalogue and show it to Mr Yatton? We might be able to order them this week, but in the meantime, don’t forget to put the foam on the end of the old Hoover, will you?’

‘All right,’ she agreed, obviously humouring me. She glanced over the room again. ‘It looks different in here—what’re all these little brushes in the jars for, and the white cotton gloves and stuff?’

‘I want to try and preserve everything in the house, and the best way is to keep special brushes, dusters and cotton gloves for cleaning and handling specific things. See,’ I said, showing her a label on the shelf, ‘this is the Silver Dip, and the brushes, dusters and cotton gloves are only for that purpose. The brass and copper have their own. Over here are cobweb brushes, and this is a banister brush—you might want to use this when you do the stairs, but nowhere else. Don’t mix things up or use anything for other than its real purpose.’

‘You’ve put tape and foam around everything, even the metal bits on the paintbrushes?’

‘Yes, to stop any scratching. I’m not aiming for perfect conservation, because I’m no expert. Besides, Winter’s End is a family home rather than a stately pile, so I’ll just do my best. I’ll still use feather dusters and window wipes, when it suits me! Oh, and this is my own hand-held vacuum cleaner—it will be handy for cleaning fixed furnishing fabrics.’

‘I saw the parlour curtains all bundled up in the laundry room,’ she said, ‘and the chair covers hanging on the drying rack. Do you want me to put another load of them in, and then iron the dry ones?’

‘That would be great, if you have time, Grace. I’ll put them back on myself later, when I’ve cleaned the chairs—unless there’s a set of winter covers?’

‘There is for the drawing room, I think,’ Grace said. ‘Maybe I’ve seen them in the linen cupboard.’

‘I’ll have a look later, but now I must phone up and get the parlour curtains collected. They are old, they’ll have to go to a specialist cleaner.’

‘Right, I’ll get on with me floors, then.’

I handed her one of the foam tubes. ‘Thanks, Grace—and there’s your bucket over there, with a new mop. You do understand why I’m doing all this, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and I’ll whiz through everything, once I’ve got me Dyson!’

When I went back later to see how Mr Yatton was getting on, Grace had already taken him the catalogue with a big cross next to her preferred model.

He was arranging the packing and collection of the Herring and the portrait of Alys, but I phoned up about the curtains myself, using a firm Lady Betty had favoured, who collected and delivered.

The rest of the day passed happily or, in my case, blissfully. Upstairs, Grace sang as she cleaned and Mrs Lark, rosy with excitement, had made her arrangements and was planning an afternoon visit to a cat rescue home to look for a kitten.

I’d set Jonah the task of soaking the rag rug from the Great Hall in an old tin bath of mild soap solution, and on my way to and from the cleaning room I heard him singing to rival Grace, only more discordantly. I put my head round the laundry-room door and discovered he was walking up and down on the rug in the bath in his bare feet, trousers rolled, as though he were treading grapes. Going by the colour of the water, the method seemed to be working.

Bob and Hal were outside cleaning the windows, rattling the long ladders as they extended them, with lots of shouting and many breaks for cups of tea and cake in the kitchen.

And I—well, I was in my element, cleaning and polishing the parlour until the panelling and furniture softly gleamed and the windows lost their soupy murk.

Chapter Twenty: Having Kittens

The baby thrives in Joan’s care, and she is such a simple creature seemingly that they have accepted her into the household as they never have myself. Sir Ralph dotes on the child, but I can see my Lady wishes mee gone…

From the journal of Alys Blezzard, 1582

Seth obviously believed in striking while the iron was hot, because he came up after dinner with some rose catalogues.

Since Hebe was dispensing her dark arts in the stillroom, he found me alone in the parlour carefully cleaning the chairs with the little hand-held vacuum, through a net cover to protect the fabric.

Charlie was keeping me company, mostly by lying on my feet whenever I stopped moving, and sighing deeply. His nose was well and truly out of joint because of the fuss being made over the new kitten in the kitchens, but I expected he would get used to it.

I didn’t hear Seth come in, what with the noise of the vacuum cleaner and having the radio on, so my heart gave a great
thump
when I looked up and caught sight of him. Mind you, it seems to do that anyway whenever I see him unexpectedly.

He took in the room with an expression of astonishment. ‘It looks so different in here—what a transformation!’

‘It’s getting there, and it’ll look even better when the curtains come back. Now I just have to do the same to the rest of the house!’

‘Without the full-time assistance of Hal and Bob, I hope. I presume they
have
finished cleaning the windows? I haven’t seen them all day.’

‘Yes, they finished and they worked really hard.’ I didn’t mention the frequent refreshment breaks. I seemed to have fallen over one or other of them every time I passed through the kitchen.