‘Hello, Tess, I’m Freddy’s mother,’ she introduced herself. ‘Ashley’s just garaging the car – he picked me up from Strumpshaw on his way home. Now are you able to stay with us for a while? Freddy said she’d get you to ask your parents.’
‘Yes, my father was delighted, thank you very much indeed,’ Tess said conscientiously. ‘Actually, your invitation couldn’t have come at a better time, because my parents have had to rush off to France, and I’d much rather be with Freddy than over there.’
‘Really? Well, you
are
unusual,’ Mrs Knox said, widening her large grey-green eyes a little. ‘Still, I suppose the whole of France isn’t like Paris, or the south. Did Mrs Brett leave you a nice luncheon?’
‘It was lovely, thanks,’ Tess said, whilst Freddy rushed out of the back door and could be heard telling her brother triumphantly that her friend Tess would be staying and would much appreciate a lift to fetch her things later.
Ashley came in just as Mrs Knox was describing the dreadful things her small nephews had done in their mother’s absence. He was tall, with reddy-brown hair and eyes and what Tess supposed, rather doubtfully, were classic features – a straight nose and a firm chin – definitely good-looking anyway. He came across the kitchen and grinned at Tess, revealing square white teeth.
‘Hello; you’ll be Sprat’s little pal. I’m Ashley Knox, her big brother. Sprat tells me you’re staying over?’
‘That’s right,’ Tess said guardedly. She thought she had seldom seen a handsomer young man – he must be twenty if he’s a day she thought, awed, or possibly more. But she wasn’t sure if she liked him. He was looking at her in a measuring sort of way which disturbed her. However, having stared, he turned away to lope into the pantry.
‘Any grub I can have right now, Ma?’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I’m absolutely famished and I’ll bet the kids are too; it’s a long while since lunch.’
‘There’s bread and cheese, I think,’ his mother said, having given the matter a moment’s thought. ‘And apples, of course.’
Ashley groaned but found the loaf and delved inside the refrigerator, returning to the kitchen with a doorstep of bread and a great chunk of cheese which would have taken Tess a week to eat.
‘Ta, Ma,’ he said. ‘What’s for dinner?’
After some discussion it was agreed that Ashley should take Tess back to Deeping Lane before dinner.
‘It’ll be lighter, easier to get your stuff packed. And you’ll probably want to have a word with your neighbours, explain what’s going on,’ Ashley said. His mother, flapping a hand at them, had told them to sort out what was best and gone up to her room, leaving the three of them sitting round the kitchen table devouring bread and cheese. ‘I’ll just nip upstairs and tell Mother we’re off so she knows what’s happening.’
He left the room and Freddy yawned, stretched, and then smiled across at Tess.
‘What does your mother do before dinner? Mine has a hot bath with lots of bath oil floating on the top, and then she’ll come out and puff talcum all over the place and put on a négligé. Then she’ll go to her room and do things to her hair and her face, put on a clean, cool gown, and appear like a lady, ten minutes before the meal’s served. And believe me, the meal will be served spot on seven-thirty, because my father comes back from the city extremely hungry and Mummy likes a leisurely dinner.
‘So if we go to your house and take longer than we expect we can pick up fish and chips on the way back – there’s a shop in the village, but we can probably get some on the road between Barton and Blofield.’
‘If your mother doesn’t like housework, and you’re at school still, why don’t you have a full-time maid?’ Tess asked Freddy as the two of them walked round to where Ashley was waiting in the car. ‘If you had a proper housekeeper she could cook the meals as well.’
Freddy shrugged. ‘We used to have a maid, but none of us liked it much, and Mrs Brett’s a wonderful cook and a very good cleaner, too. The only snag is the washing up, which the family have to do, and things like ironing, only Mummy says she’s getting someone in to do a couple of hours each afternoon whilst Ash and I are home. And clearing the table and washing up aren’t at all bad, in fact. We take it in turns, me and Ash one night, Mummy and Father the next, so we do get evenings off.’
‘And your parents play fair and do their share?’ Tess asked, and was then embarrassed by her incredulous tone. But Mrs Knox did not look like a lady who would take kindly to clearing tables and washing up – certainly Marianne never lifted a finger when she had two daughters home, though it did occur to Tess, for the first time, that maybe, during the term, her stepmother was forced to wash up after dinner.
‘Play fair? Yes, of course they do. What a bad example it would be for us if they didn’t! Ah, now if we both sit in the back Ashley will moan that he isn’t a chauffeur – you can sit in the front.’
‘No indeed; I wouldn’t know what to say to him. He’s your brother, you sit in the front,’ Tess said, thoroughly alarmed. It was all very well thinking Ashley Knox good-looking, but trying to talk to him for a whole half-hour was more punishment than pleasure.
They reached the car, a sporty looking model with its hood rolled down. Ashley leaned over and opened the passenger door.
‘Hop in,’ he said briskly. ‘If we get a move on we could be home before they start dinner. Otherwise it’s whatever’s left and you know what a hog Father can be!’
He was looking at Freddy as he spoke and she, taking advantage of Tess’s momentary hesitation, nipped into the back seat, leaving Tess no choice but to get into the front passenger seat.
‘There you are, then, Ash . . . amuse Tess,’ she said, adding quietly, for Tess’s benefit alone, ‘Don’t be a goose; once we get going you won’t be able to hear yourself think, let alone converse with my brother!’
And this was true, to an extent. Besides, Ashley simply drove, concentrating on the road ahead so that Tess was able to sneak occasional glances at his profile without his noticing.
He
was
good-looking, she concluded after a few miles had passed. Not only was he the possessor of that nice straight nose, but his eyelashes were dark despite his hair having that reddish tinge and the freckles which she could now see, being closer to him, added to his charms.
The car slowed as Ashley left the wider roads and entered the network of lanes which led to the Broad. It was beautiful down here; peaceful. Tess, who had felt very tense because she was sitting beside a strange young man, began to relax. When he turned to her she got ready to give him instructions . . . take the right fork, then at the junction . . . etc., but it wasn’t instructions which he was looking for.
‘Know me again?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Tess said in a small chilly voice. Oh damn, he had noticed her eyes on him, then.
‘I asked if you’d know me again? You’ve been giving me the once-over for the past twenty minutes. I’m not blind you know! Have you never realised men can see out of the corners of their eyes?’
It was said lightly, but there was enough malice in his tone to bring heat sweeping across Tess’s face. She said dismissively: ‘If I glanced at you it was because I was waiting for you to ask me the way. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.’
He laughed softly and she saw his eyes flick to the rear-view mirror, then he put his hand out and caught hers, which were lying quietly in her blue gingham lap. He squeezed briefly, then returned his hand to the wheel once more.
‘You didn’t embarrass me; it’s rather nice for a fellow to know a girl likes to look at him. Is it left at the next junction?’
‘Yes, left. And – and don’t jump to conclusions,’ Tess said, amazed at her own temerity. If Ashley had been a real gentleman, she thought crossly, he would not have embarrassed her by admitting he’d noticed her watching him. Not that I was, she added. Well, not much, anyway. ‘I told you why I was looking at you.’
‘And I don’t believe you,’ Ashley said equably. ‘How old are you? Seventeen? And you’ve no brothers of your own, Sprat told me. I expect you’re dying to know all about me, really, you’re just too inhibited by your upbringing to ask.’
‘My stepmother’s French,’ Tess said wildly. ‘The French don’t believe in inhibitions.’
This was wildly, totally untrue, but it sounded good. Ashley shot her an astonished look. The look said:
she can fight her corner! Good, she’s got spirit!
and Tess found the look as infuriating as she had found his words. Who the hell was Ashley Knox to pat her on the head because she answered him back? Deliberately, she turned in her seat and faced Freddy.
‘You all right in the back?’ she shouted above the wind of their going. ‘You can sit in front on the way back; fair’s fair, after all.’
Freddy, curled up on the back seat watching the passing scene, blinked and looked across at her. ‘Why? Aren’t you happy there?’
Before Tess could reply, however, Ashley was speaking again.
‘Tess, is this your road coming up? Quick, do I turn right or do I go straight?’
‘Turn right,’ Tess snapped. ‘We’re about a mile down Deeping Lane, you can’t miss it. You’ll pass a tied cottage, then quite a bit of country, then it’s the Old House.’
‘Got you,’ Ashley said. He looked sideways as he drove. ‘Nice farmland.’
He was calling a truce. Tess said non-committally: ‘Very nice. Mr Rope grows mostly wheat and barley, but some oats and quite a lot of hay and root crops. I didn’t know you were interested in farming.’
It was a mistake.
‘You don’t know anything about me,’ Ashley remarked. ‘But if you behave yourself, you soon will. Want to come to the flicks with me?’
‘No thank you,’ Tess said promptly. He gave her an astonished glance, then returned his eyes to the road.
‘Why not? I’m an
extremely
eligible bachelor, you know. All your little school friends will be mad with jealousy.’
‘Why not? Because, as you say, I don’t know you. And I don’t know that I want to know you, either.’
‘Oh, come on, tell the truth! I fascinate you, you know I do.’
Tess thought it polite this time to say nothing and presently was able to tell Ashley that the house coming up on his right was the Old House, and since the gates were open she would be obliged if he would drive up to the front door.
Without a word Ashley obeyed and drew the car to a halt, with only a minimal scattering of gravel, right outside the oak front door. ‘Ladies, we’ve arrived,’ he said, jumping out and running round to open the passenger door, only Tess, still simmering, had already done so. ‘Now what? Do you have a key?’
‘Yes, but to the back door,’ Tess said quickly. She did not have a key of any description but guessed that the back-door key would be under the milk churn where it was usually kept. ‘You stay here and I’ll come through and open up.’
She ran round to the back door, found the key, unlocked, and stepped into the kitchen. She closed the back door behind her and glanced around. My God, the mess! Marianne must have had the telegram between breakfast and luncheon; she had simply abandoned the place with a pile of dirty dishes on one wooden draining board and some more washed up but not wiped dry on the other. And on the kitchen table were a pile of vegetables, various pans, a bag of flour, another of sugar, a square of cooking margarine . . . clearly dinner preparations had been under way. It was almost frightening, as Miss Havisham’s kitchen must have been, to see the place so obviously deserted. What was more, despite the homely muddle she was aware of a coldness, a remoteness, about the place, as though the house had been empty for months, perhaps even years. But her friend and Ashley were waiting outside, no time to stand here pondering. She ran across the kitchen, through the hall, and over to the front door. She unlocked it, her fingers trembling slightly on the enormous iron key, and pulled it open. Freddy’s placid face and Ashley’s sardonic one met her gaze.
‘Good-oh,’ Freddy said. She came into the hallway and looked around her. ‘I say, this is rather nice! What do we do first?’
‘Well, I’m awfully sorry but I think I’ll have to wash up,’ Tess said apologetically. ‘Marianne must have left in a great rush – just come and look at the kitchen.’
They followed her and stood in the doorway, gazing.
‘It isn’t like Marianne,’ Tess said defensively. ‘She’s usually most awfully neat and methodical, the telegram must have put her in quite a state . . . it won’t take me long to clear away.’
‘We’ll do it whilst you pack.’ The remark came simultaneously from the two Knoxes. ‘It won’t take more than ten minutes,’ Freddy added. ‘Particularly if you’ll come down and put away, because we don’t know where anything goes.’
‘Right. Thanks,’ Tess said. ‘I’ll be quick.’
As soon as Tess left the kitchen, Ashley and Freddy began to clear the table and sort out the washing up.
‘It’s an odd house, wouldn’t you say? I mean the family must be fairly well-heeled to send the kids to your school, and they board, don’t they? But it’s nowhere near as big as our place and it’s kind of cottagey, too.’
Ashley kept his voice down but Freddy turned on him anyway.
‘Hush, do! It’s a really nice house, and the Broad comes right up to the end of their orchard. Mr Delamere’s an accountant, he’s the second partner in a firm of six. He bought the house when there was only him and Tess though, and now he doesn’t want to move. Tess told me.’
Ashley sniffed and took a plate out of the plate rack. ‘This isn’t
clean
,’ he said accusingly. ‘There’s egg or something on it still. You can’t wash up properly in cold water, Freddy. Let me heat a kettle on the Aga.’
‘It’s probably out,’ Freddy said. ‘But you can try. Only don’t be so damned critical, Ash. You upset people.’
‘I don’t. Well, if you mean you’re upset because you handed me a dirty plate to dry up then I suppose you’re right. What did you mean?’
‘I meant you upset Tess. I don’t know what you were saying to her, I couldn’t hear a word for the wind, but she went very pink. Look, she’s my best friend – the only friend I’ve got, really – and I don’t want her put off coming back to ours. Right?’
‘I haven’t put her off,’ Ashley said promptly. ‘She likes me, even if she doesn’t know it yet.’