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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Country Plot (32 page)

BOOK: Country Plot
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‘I've been mingling and listening to what people are saying,' he said. ‘It's quite entertaining when they don't realize you're paying attention. Your scheme for opening Holtby House is a big hit.'

‘I'm really glad,' Jenna said gratefully. ‘I was afraid, with this Benson business being so unpopular, that people wouldn't like it.'

‘Oh, they're all National Trust members here,' Harry said. ‘Only the nicer sorts are expected to turn up to look round the house: Volvo drivers, people with Labradors and children called Jemima and Tarquin. The Benson chalets are quite different. Common, you know. They'd be a blot on the landscape and bring undesirables to the hallowed precincts.'

‘They'd spoil the view,' Jenna said. ‘Will this planning application get through?'

‘Hard to say. There's a lot of local opposition, but that doesn't usually count for anything when it gets to this stage.'

‘That's a very cynical view,' Jenna said.

He looked surprised. ‘Not cynical, just a fact,' he said.

‘Oh, I was forgetting, this is sort of your turf, isn't it – development?'

‘Sort of. I know a bit about it. And when it gets as far as the planning officer for the Department of the Environment, he's not worried about people's views being spoiled. It's traffic density and the pressure on water mains and sewerage that matter.' He grinned. ‘And who's slipping what into whose hand in sealed brown envelopes.'

‘Now that
is
cynical. By the way, I had a visit from your sister.'

‘Bad luck!'

‘No, she seemed to be saying she approved of me going out with you.'

‘I told you that. She was all for it.'

‘But why?'

‘Keeps you occupied, stops you leading Xander astray maybe.'

‘I hadn't thought of that,' Jenna said. She remembered. ‘Oh, I saw her in Andover on Saturday.'

Harry wrinkled his brow. ‘In Andover? She was supposed to be going to stay with an old school-friend in Shaftesbury. Made quite a thing about it – talked about a “sleepover” in a rather nauseatingly coy way. Are you sure it was her? You must have been mistaken.'

‘No, I saw her quite clearly. She didn't see me, fortunately – I didn't want to have to talk to her.'

‘Don't blame you.'

‘She was with a man.' She described the Silver Fox. ‘My friend Izzy said she felt sure she'd seen him somewhere – thought he might be famous in a small way – but she couldn't think who he was.'

Harry frowned. ‘Sounds suspiciously like Derek Sullivan. You didn't see what car he came in?'

‘No, sorry. Who's Derek Sullivan?'

‘Local bigwig, and prospective Labour candidate for the north of the county, at the next election when Ron Farebrother retires. He's an old pal of Dad's, so he's been around our house a lot, one way and other. Drives a dark blue Aston Martin. Only nice thing about him. But why would Caro be meeting him? And why in Andover?'

‘Izzy said maybe for the same reason we met there – convenient, halfway between here and London.'

‘Yes, but I mean, why meet him anywhere?'

‘I can't tell you that. But I'm sorry to say it looked a bit like a date.'

He stared, and then a slow smile spread across his face. ‘
No
! That would account for the secrecy. Sleepover, my arse! Oh, I shall have a lot of fun with her about this!'

‘No,' Jenna said, alarmed. ‘You mustn't say anything. I don't want her to think I was spying on her.'

‘You weren't.'

‘I know, but I don't want her to think I was.'

‘No, you're right, anyway. Better she doesn't know I know, then I'll have more chance of finding out what she's up to. I say, fancy her two-timing poor old Xander!'

‘Maybe she wasn't. I only said it
looked
like a date. I could be wrong. Most likely I am. Maybe it wasn't even her.'

He looked at her. ‘What's going on? Why are you suddenly back-pedalling?'

She bit her lip. ‘I don't want Xander to be hurt again.'

‘Softy,' he said kindly. ‘I didn't know you worried about him. But I'm afraid he's bound to get hurt one way or another, mixed up with my sister. She's a bad lot, and she'll do him no good in the end. But I won't say anything, don't worry. I shall just watch her with interest. She ought to be here – it'll be starting in a minute. She'll miss the fun.'

‘People are sitting down,' Jenna said. ‘Oh, Kitty's looking round for me.'

She was in the front row and had Bill on one side of her and Jim on the other, but Xander seemed to have left the group again. She caught a glimpse she thought was him, away to the side of the hall, standing up among the crowds for whom there weren't enough chairs.

‘You don't want to be in the front row with the stuffy people. Stay with me and we'll stand at the side where we can see people's faces. Much more fun.'

Jenna wondered if that's why Xander had moved.

‘Too late, anyway,' Harry went on. ‘There's the bigwigs going up on the stage. You'll disrupt everyone, going down to the front now: they'll all look at you, you gorgeous, showy creature! You'll have to stay with me.'

They stood in the shadows at the side of the hall as the chairman thumped his gavel and called the meeting to order. Just as he started speaking, Harry dug her in the ribs and whispered, ‘Caro's not here. Odd.'

Was it odd? With a glance around, Jenna thought she must be the only person in a ten mile radius who wasn't, so perhaps it was.

There was quite a festival mood as everyone spilled out on to the street afterwards. ‘To The Crown!' Bill exclaimed. ‘This demands a celebration.'

‘I can't believe we've won,' Kitty said, beaming at Jim. ‘I did hear correctly, didn't I? He did turn down the application?'

‘You heard correctly,' Jim said, restraining himself from hugging her.

‘One for the good guys!' Bill crowed. ‘Come on, the first round's on me!'

Jenna was forcing her way through the crowds, with Harry at her heels, insisting that she had to congratulate Kitty, though he wanted to whisk her away. ‘I only said I'd have a drink with you,' she told him.

‘Yes, but I didn't expect a victory celebration. Everyone's going to be in The Crown. Let me take you somewhere else. I want you to myself.'

‘Oh, stop pouting,' Jenna said, and broke through into Kitty's circle.

‘Jenna, there you are!' Kitty cried, and they hugged each other.

‘I'm so pleased for you. For everyone, really,' Jenna said.

It gave Kitty pause. ‘Except poor old Benson, of course. He did look blue.'

Jenna laughed. ‘You can't feel sorry for him now, just because he's the underdog. It's absurd. You called him unscrupulous before.'

‘Oh, you're right. I'm very silly.' She turned to Xander, who was hovering uncomfortably behind her, avoiding Jenna's eye. ‘You're coming for a drink, aren't you? What happened to Caroline? I thought she was coming.'

‘So did I,' Xander said. ‘I expect she was held up somewhere. I don't think I'll come for a drink, though.'

‘Oh, nonsense, of course you must. It's a special occasion. And if Caroline does get here, she'll look for you in The Crown. Oh, there's the planning inspector talking to the vicar. What was his name? Purcell, wasn't it? Do you think we should get him to come for one?'

Jenna turned to speak sotto voce to Harry. ‘You see we'll have to go, even if it's just for one. Kitty will insist.'

‘All right,' he muttered, ‘but I reserve the right to use all my powers to abduct you once your duty is done.'

‘You can
try
,' Jenna said with a grin; and then, turning back, saw Xander's eyes on her, and felt a pang of – what? Guilt? Hardly. Regret then? Possible. She didn't want him to think there was anything between her and Harry. She didn't know why she didn't want that, but she didn't.

The talk went on. Why didn't they get on with going to the pub? Why did everyone have to stand around in the road?

‘Oh, there's Caroline,' Kitty said suddenly. ‘I didn't see you arrive. We're just going to The Crown for a celebration. Did you hear? We won!'

‘Did you? How wonderful!' Caroline said, sidling up to Xander and kissing his cheek. ‘Hello, darling. Sorry I'm late. Got caught up in some things.'

The vicar came over. ‘I asked Purcell if he'd care to imbibe one with us, but he said he's being given a lift to the station, so he can't. He's just left.'

Slowly, by painful inches, the crowd made its way to the pub. Jenna discovered Harry was missing from behind her; but before she was actually at the door, he was back.

‘Blimey, they should call you the Shadow,' she said. ‘You really do become invisible. What were you doing?'

‘Sleuthing.' He had a gleeful look. ‘I've just had a bit of an “oho!” moment.'

‘What's that when it's at home? Washing powder?'

‘That's Omo. It means, “Oho, so that's how the milk got into the coconut!”'

‘And how did it?'

‘Are you ready for this? Caroline arrived—'

‘I know, I saw her.'

‘Wait! She arrived in a car, which stopped a bit further up the road to let her out, almost as if she didn't want anyone to see how she got here. And that car, ladies and gents, was a dark blue Aston Martin.'

‘
No
!' Jenna said, gratified; and then, distressed: ‘Oh no!'

‘Yes, but that's not all. The planning officer from the Department of the Environment has just walked off up the road, and got into the same car.'

Jenna stared at him. ‘Are you serious?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘The vicar said he said he was getting a lift to the station.'

‘Maybe he is.'

‘So – the planning officer secretly knows Derek Sullivan? Who secretly knows Caroline? What does it all mean?' She stared at Harry with buckled brow.

He looked portentous, approached his head close to hers, and spoke in a grave, hushed voice. ‘I haven't the faintest idea,' he said.

Twenty

The Buckminsters' dinner, which Jenna had not been particularly looking forward to, actually came as a welcome break in what had rapidly become the routine of work on the house opening. There was so much to do, much more than Jenna had anticipated, and though she was sure she could get through it in time, it was no longer a dilettanti frolic but a hard grind.

She hadn't spoken much to the Buckminsters at Kitty's party, but had seen them as rather overpowering and very, very county. They were in their sixties like Kitty, but the heavyweight version, large people with well-kept clothes that had obviously been bought to last; leading lights of the various organizations that kept the countryside going, parish councils and WIs and police authorities and so on. In addition, Arthur Buckminster was a JP – Justice of the Peace – and Gloria was on the board of a big orphanage and care home in Wenchester. At Kitty's dinner they had spoken kindly to her, welcoming her to the village, but beyond discovering that she was a Londoner and that she didn't play bridge, they hadn't really engaged with her.

The Buckminsters lived in The Old Rectory, a large mid-Victorian house in ample grounds. Like Holtby House it had a spacious conservatory built on to the back, and that was where dinner was laid. ‘Might as well enjoy this weather while we have it,' Gloria Buckminster said. She and her husband seemed different now they were hosts in their own house – no less overpowering, with their big voices and county solidness, but hearty and affable, sticking a vast gin and tonic into Jenna's hand as soon as she arrived and addressing her as if they were old friends.

‘I won't bother introducing all these people,' Gloria said, waving a hand. ‘Some you know and some you don't, but it's a bore trying to remember names on occasions like these. Now come out and let me show you the garden. Everyone else has seen it.'

Everyone else had settled into eagerly conversing groups, still standing up facing inwards, as if they had far too much to say to waste time finding seats. Arthur was already topping up the G and Ts – it looked like being a hard-drinking evening. Jenna followed Gloria out into the garden, but she before had time to exclaim over how lovely it looked – and it really did – the true reason for the segregation emerged.

‘Now, tell me about this scheme of yours for Holtby House,' she commanded. ‘Everyone is so excited. We've been worried about the situation for years. Simply must keep Kitty in residence. Can't have all the old families driven out. Besides, you never know who you're going to get in their place, and it's rarely a pleasant surprise. So, will it work?'

‘I think so,' Jenna said, and told Gloria the plan.

Gloria listened attentively and her questions were sharp and intelligent. ‘It sounds as though you've thought about it carefully,' she pronounced at the end. ‘You must tell me if there's anything I can do to help.'

‘Thank you, I'm sure there will be. Most important now is to get a pool of volunteers to man the rooms when the house is open.'

‘As in the National Trust,' Gloria interrupted briskly. ‘Yes, I know the drill. Done it myself in the past, before I got too busy. Don't worry, I'll start rallying the troops. I know Kitty's been asking, but she's too nice. People need chivvying, like hens, even to get them to do what they want to do anyway. There'll be no shortage, I promise you. There's tremendous goodwill for the scheme, and for Kitty, and I shall help her with the organization of the volunteers, otherwise we shall have a slacking off when the first excitement fades.'

‘Thank you,' Jenna said. ‘That's the biggest worry off my mind.'

‘You can ask me for any help and advice you need, any time,' Gloria said. ‘I was organizing things in my cradle, so it's no effort for me.'

BOOK: Country Plot
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