By now Jeremy was totally occupied with his newspaper. "Um" was his only response.
Pippa tried again to engage his attention. "I suppose you wouldn't like to play beggar-my-neighbour?" she asked him.
"No," Jeremy replied firmly. He replaced the newspaper on the stool, then went to the desk, sat, and addressed an envelope.
"No, I thought you probably wouldn't," Pippa murmured wistfully. Kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room, she spread out her cards and began to play a game of demon patience. "I wish we could have a fine day for a change," she complained. "It's such a waste being in the country when it's wet."
Jeremy looked across at her. "Do you like living in the country, Pippa?" he asked.
"Rather," Pippa replied enthusiastically. "I like it much better than living in London. This is an absolutely wizard house, with a tennis court and everything. We've even got a priest's hole."
"A priest's hole?" Jeremy queried, smiling. "In this house?"
"Yes, we have," said Pippa.
"I don't believe you," Jeremy told her. "It's the wrong period."
"Well, I call it a priest's hole," Pippa insisted. "Look, I'll show you."
She got up from the floor, went to the right-hand side of the bookshelves, took out a couple of books, and pulled down a small lever in the wall behind the books. A portion of wall to the right of the shelves, revealing itself to be a concealed door, swung open. Behind it was a good-sized recess, with another concealed door in its back wall, evidently leading to the library.
"I know it isn't really a priest's hole, of course," Pippa admitted. "But it's certainly a secret passageway. Actually, that door goes through into the library."
"Oh, does it?" said Jeremy as he rose and went across to the recess. He walked into it, opened the door at the back, glanced into the library and then closed the door again. "So it does," he confirmed as he came back into the room.
"But it's all rather secret, and you'd never guess it was there unless you knew," Pippa said as she lifted the lever to close the panel. "I'm using it all the time," she continued. "It's the sort of place that would be very convenient for putting a dead body, don't you think?"
Jeremy smiled. "Absolutely made for it," he agreed.
Pippa came back to the centre of the room and resumed her card game on the floor as Clarissa entered from the hall.
Jeremy looked up as she came into the room. "The Amazon is looking for you," he informed Clarissa.
"Miss Peake? Oh, what a bore," Clarissa exclaimed as she picked up Pippa's bun from the table and took a bite.
Pippa immediately got to her feet. "Hey, that's mine!" she protested.
"Greedy thing," Clarissa murmured as she handed what was left of the bun to Pippa, who placed it back on the table and returned to her card game.
"The Amazon first hailed me as though I were a ship," Jeremy told Clarissa, "and then she ticked me off for manhandling this desk."
"She's a terrible pest," Clarissa admitted, leaning over one end of the sofa to peer down at Pippa's card game. "But we're only renting the house, and she goes with it, so – " She broke off to say to Pippa, "Black ten on the red jack," before continuing, to Jeremy, "– so we have to keep her on. And in any case she's really a very good gardener."
"I know," Jeremy agreed, moving to Clarissa and putting an arm around her. "I saw her out of my bedroom window this morning. I heard these sounds of exertion, so I stuck my head out of the window, and there was the Amazon, in the garden, digging something that looked like an enormous grave."
"That's called deep trenching," Clarissa explained to him. "I think you plant cabbages in it, or something."
Jeremy leaned over to study the card game on the floor. "Red three on the black four," he advised Pippa, who responded with a furious look.
Sir Rowland and Hugo now came into the room from the library. Sir Rowland gave a meaningful look at Jeremy, who still had his arm around Clarissa, at which Jeremy tactfully dropped his arm and moved away from her.
"The weather seems to have cleared at last," Sir Rowland announced. "Too late for golf, though. Only about twenty minutes of daylight left." Looking down at Pippa's card game, he pointed at a card with his foot. "Look, that goes on there," he told her. Crossing to the French windows, he failed to notice the fierce glare Pippa shot his way. "Well," he said, glancing out at the garden, "I suppose we might as well go across to the golf house now, if we're going to eat there."
"I'll go and get my coat," Hugo announced, leaning over Pippa to point out a card as he passed her. Pippa, really furious by now, leaned forward and covered the cards with her body, as Hugo turned back to address Jeremy. "What about you, my boy?" he asked. "Coming with us?"
"Yes," Jeremy answered. "I'll just go and get my jacket." He and Hugo went out into the hall together, leaving the door open.
"You're sure you don't mind dining at the clubhouse this evening, darling?" Clarissa asked Sir Rowland.
"Not a bit," he assured her. "Very sensible arrangement, since the servants are having the night off."
Elgin, the Hailsham-Browns' middle-aged butler, came into the room from the hall and went across to Pippa. "Your supper is ready in the schoolroom, Miss Pippa," he told her. "There's some milk, and fruit, and your favourite biscuits."
"Oh, good!" Pippa shouted, springing to her feet. "I'm ravenous."
She darted towards the hall door but was stopped by Clarissa, who told her sharply to pick up her cards first and put them away.
"Oh, bother," Pippa exclaimed. She went back to the cards, knelt, and slowly began to shovel them into a heap against one end of the sofa.
Elgin now addressed Clarissa. "Excuse me, madam," he murmured respectfully.
"Yes, Elgin, what is it?" Clarissa asked.
The butler looked uncomfortable. "There has been a little – er – unpleasantness, over the vegetables," he told her.
"Oh, dear," said Clarissa. "You mean with Miss Peake?"
"Yes, madam," the butler continued. "My wife finds Miss Peake most difficult, madam. She is continually coming into the kitchen and criticizing and making remarks, and my wife doesn't like it, she doesn't like it at all. Wherever we have been, Mrs. Elgin and myself have always had very pleasant relations with the garden."
"I'm really sorry about that," Clarissa replied, suppressing a smile. "I'll – er – I'll try to do something about it. I'll speak to Miss Peake."
"Thank you, madam," said Elgin. He bowed and left the room, closing the hall door behind him.
"How tiresome they are, servants," Clarissa observed to Sir Rowland. "And what curious things they say. How can one have pleasant relations with the garden? It sounds improper, in a pagan kind of way."
"I think you're lucky, however, with this couple – the Elgins," Sir Rowland advised her. "Where did you get them?"
"Oh, the local registry office," Clarissa replied.
Sir Rowland frowned. "I hope not that what's-its-name one where they always send you crooks," he observed.
"Cooks?" asked Pippa, looking up from the floor where she was still sorting out cards.
"No, dear. Crooks," Sir Rowland repeated. "Do you remember," he continued, now addressing Clarissa, "that agency with the Italian or Spanish name – di Botello, wasn't it? – who kept sending you people to interview, most of whom turned out to be illegal aliens? Andy Hulme was virtually cleaned out by a couple he and his wife took on. They used Andy's horse-box to move out half the house. And they've never caught up with them yet."
"Oh, yes," Clarissa laughed. "I do remember." Then, "Come on, Pippa, hurry up," she ordered the child.
Pippa picked up the cards and got to her feet. 'There!" she exclaimed petulantly as she replaced the cards on the bookshelves. "I wish one didn't always have to do clearing up." She went towards the door, but was stopped by Clarissa who, picking up what was left of Pippa's bun from the table, called to her, "Here, take your bun with you," and handed it to her.
Pippa started to go again. "And your satchel," Clarissa continued.
Pippa ran to the easy chair, snatched up her satchel, and turned again towards the hall door.
"Hat!" Clarissa shouted.
Pippa put the bun on the table, picked up her hat, and ran to the hall door.
"Here!" Clarissa called her back again, picked up the piece of bun, stuffed it in Pippa's mouth, took the hat, jammed it on the child's head, and pushed her into the hall. "And shut the door, Pippa," she called after her.
Pippa finally made her exit, closing the door behind her. Sir Rowland laughed, and Clarissa, joining in his laughter, went to the table and took a cigarette from a box. Outside, the daylight was now beginning to fade, and the room was becoming a little darker.
"You know, it's wonderful!" Sir Rowland exclaimed. "Pippa's a different child, now. You've done a remarkably good job there, Clarissa."
Clarissa went across to the sofa, and sat. "I think she really likes me now and trusts me," she said. "And I quite enjoy being a stepmother."
Sir Rowland picked up a lighter from the occasional table by the sofa, and lit Clarissa's cigarette for her. "Well," he observed, "she certainly seems a normal, happy child again."
Clarissa nodded in agreement. "I think living in the country has made all the difference," she suggested. "And she goes to a very nice school and is making lots of friends there. Yes, I think she's happy, and, as you say, normal."
Sir Rowland frowned. "It's a shocking thing," he exclaimed, "to see a kid get into the state she was in. I'd like to wring Miranda's neck. What a dreadful mother she was."
"Yes," Clarissa agreed. "Pippa was absolutely terrified of her mother."
Sir Rowland joined Clarissa on the sofa. "It was a shocking business," he murmured.
Clarissa clenched her fists and made an angry gesture. "I feel furious every time I think of Miranda," she said. "What she made Henry suffer, and what she made that child go through. I still can't understand how any woman could."
"Taking drugs is a nasty business," Sir Rowland went on. "It alters your whole character."
They sat for a moment in silence. Then Clarissa asked, "What do you think started her on drugs in the first place?"
"I think it was her friend, that swine Oliver Costello," Sir Rowland declared. "I believe he's in on the drug racket."
"He's a horrible man," Clarissa agreed. "Really evil, I always think."
"She's married him now, hasn't she?" Sir Rowland asked.
"Yes, they married about a month ago," Clarissa answered.
Sir Rowland shook his head. "Well, there's no doubt Henry's well rid of Miranda," he said. "He's a nice fellow, Henry." He repeated emphatically, "A really nice fellow."
Clarissa smiled, and murmured gently, "Do you think you need to tell me that?"
"I know he doesn't say much," Sir Rowland went on. "He's what you might call undemonstrative – but he's sound all the way through." He paused, and then added, "That young fellow, Jeremy. What do you know about him?"
Clarissa smiled again. "Jeremy? He's very amusing," she replied.
"Tschah!" Sir Rowland snorted. "That's all people seem to care about, these days." He gave Clarissa a serious look and continued, "You won't – you won't do anything foolish, will you?"
Clarissa laughed. "Don't fall in love with Jeremy Warrender," she answered him. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"
Sir Rowland still regarded her seriously. "Yes," he told her, "that's precisely what I mean. He's obviously very fond of you. Indeed, he seems unable to keep his hands off you. But you have a very happy marriage with Henry, and I wouldn't want you to do anything to put that in jeopardy."
Clarissa gave him an affectionate smile. "Do you really think I would do anything so foolish?" she asked playfully.
"That would certainly be extremely foolish," Sir Rowland advised. He paused before continuing, "You know, Clarissa darling, I've watched you grow up. You really mean a great deal to me. If ever you're in trouble of any kind, you would come to your old guardian, wouldn't you?"
"Of course, Roly, darling," Clarissa replied. She kissed him on the cheek. "And you needn't worry about Jeremy. Really, you needn't. I know he's very engaging, and attractive and all that. But you know me, I'm only enjoying myself. Just having fun. It's nothing serious."
Sir Rowland was about to speak again when Miss Peake suddenly appeared at the French windows.
CHAPTER FOUR
MlSS PEAKE had by now discarded her boots and was in her stockinged feet. She was carrying a head of broccoli.
"I hope you don't mind my coming in this way, Mrs. Hailsham-Brown," she boomed, as she strode across to the sofa. "I shan't make the room dirty, I've left my boots outside. I'd just like you to look at this broccoli." She thrust it over the back of the sofa in a belligerent manner, and stuck it under Clarissa's nose.
"It – er – it looks very nice," was all Clarissa could think of by way of reply.
Miss Peake thrust the broccoli under Sir Rowland's nose. "Take a look," she ordered him.
Sir Rowland did as he was told, and after surveying the broccoli he pronounced his verdict. "I can't see anything wrong with it," he declared. But he took the broccoli from her in order to give it a closer investigation.
