‘Well? Who have they got at the moment? The first message I got came from the doctor and I only managed to snatch a brief word with Gran and that was all about Grandpa. I know the couple they got through an advert didn’t work out but I never met them. They were due to start in the New Year, after I’d already flown back to Los Angeles. I heard they’d got someone new but I thought they were still using that agency.’
‘Fingers crossed, it’s working well so far,’ Harriet told her. ‘Remember Karen Norton from the village? She was in your tutor group at school, if I remember. She got married a year or so back and she and her husband moved in to the flat behind the kitchen. She does the cooking and housekeeping and he does the maintenance and gardening, or at least, he supervises the contractors and does the kitchen garden. His name’s Markus but.…’ she paused with a grin, then hurried on. ‘He’s a plumber by trade but pretty handy all round, which is useful. Plus he has, um, other talents.’
‘Other talents? Is there something odd about the husband?’ Edith’s grey eyes narrowed as she caught the smile that passed between the driver and front-seat passenger. ‘What about him? I always got on well with Karen, we were in the same gang, but we’ve lost touch. It’ll be fun to catch up again.’
‘He’s a very nice young man,’ Harriet told her firmly. ‘You’ll like him; he’s very popular in the village. Anyway, as I started to say earlier, if Karen and her husband – he’s Polish, by the way – if they can call me Harriet and he’s only known me a couple of months, I really think you must make an effort. And you might as well say Sam, while you’re about it, especially as he’s likely to be around a lot more in future.’
‘Oh all right, Harriet,’ Edith sounded shy. ‘What’s this about you, Sam? Why are you likely to be around? Do you live in the village these days too?’
‘As of next week I shall,’ Sam explained. ‘Harriet’s neighbour lost her husband in the spring and she’s moving nearer to her daughter in Hastings so she offered me first refusal on her house. It’s ideal, semi-detached from Harriet’s place. Contracts were exchanged almost a month ago and I’m taking another look round the cottage this afternoon before I go home.’
‘Oh,’ Edith looked suddenly subdued. ‘Of course, I’d forgotten.’ She blinked. ‘Harriet told me, I think. I was so sorry to hear about….’
‘Thank you,’ Sam nodded, frowning blankly out of the car window. Even now, after some years, a sudden mention, however oblique, of his late, beloved wife could catch him unawares.
‘Nearly there.’ At the top of the hill Harriet swung into a narrow road, paused in a passing place nestling close to the hedgerow, which was starred with dog roses and bryony, to allow a tractor to rattle by, then headed off west towards Locksley. Just at the beginning of the village she turned left, through brick-pillared posts, the gates long gone, into the winding, pot-holed driveway of the old cream-stuccoed farmhouse that was Edith’s family home, pulling up with a flourish at the front door. ‘Here we are,’ she said, scrambling out of the Mini to let Edith out through the driver’s door.
‘Here, hand me your laptop so you can scramble out. And that bag as well. That the lot?’ She went to the boot and unloaded Edith’s case. ‘Can’t stop, I’m afraid. Sam wants to catch my neighbour before she has to go out. Don’t worry too much about your grandparents, Edith. I believe Walter is due out of hospital tomorrow, and there’s been a rota of people in the village dropping in daily to see if your grandmother needs anything. Besides, Karen and her husband are extremely efficient and they’re very kind too. Give everyone my love.’
She gave Edith a quick hug and climbed back into the ancient but gleaming Mini, leaning out for a parting word as she did a three-point turn. ‘If I don’t see you before, I’ll certainly see you tomorrow night. We’ll both be there – Sam’s coming too.’ As she drove back down the gravel drive to the gateway, Harriet frowned, wondering whether she should have dropped a hint. There was something else that was worrying her: the ongoing village mystery – the missing man last seen in the local pub – but no, there was no need to add that to Edith’s problems. There was surely no connection, was there?
Edith waved goodbye, looking puzzled by Harriet’s last remark, but she shook her head and hauled her bags up the steps and into the entrance hall. Dumping them there she hurried through the silent house to the kitchen where she paused at the door and stared at the curvaceous, auburn-haired young woman who was taking a tray of assorted mini quiches out of the vintage Aga.