‘Uh-huh.’ Karen deftly put more oven trays, this time of minute vol-aux-vents, in to cook. ‘Mr Attlin took the call from the vicar this morning and told him you couldn’t go out tonight as we’re having a small drinks party. Then he invited the vicar anyway and told him straight out that he felt it wasn’t wise for a man in his position to be seen out and about with other women so soon after his wife’s death and he advised caution.’
‘Drinks party?’ Edith was startled but the evidence was before her eyes: cocktail savouries, canapés, assorted bottles and glasses, on every available surface. ‘Have they gone mad? It’s only a day or so ago that we had the Rotary dinner here. What on earth do they want a drinks party for?’
‘You’d better ask Rory,’ was the only response she got as Karen disappeared into the large, walk-in larder.
‘Don’t shoot!’ He held up a hand in supplication. ‘Cousin Walter rang me after Sam and I left you in the cathedral. I forgot to tell you, with everything else that was happening. He told me they were having a small celebration drinks party and asked me to get on to Gordon Dean and invite his household, so I did. They’re all coming and I gather your grandmother has been on the phone so most of the village will be coming too. Sam can’t make it, by the way, he’s got something on in Southampton tonight. I’ve no idea what the party’s about, though.’
‘Well, there’s one good thing,’ remarked Karen. ‘We’ve got some olives. I asked the vicar to pick some up from the man in the market, seeing as he was on his way to Winchester, and he dropped them in an hour or so ago.’
‘He’s been to Winchester today?’ Rory made an obvious effort to control his start of surprise as he turned to Karen. ‘What time was that, then?’
‘About 10.15, more or less.’ She looked surprised. ‘I bumped into him at the village shop and passed the time of day. He mentioned where he was off to and I just said that if he happened to be walking through the market, would he pick up some olives for the party.’ She was working as she spoke and soon had a tray ready. ‘Here, make yourselves useful and take some tea upstairs.’
‘My dear child.’ Edith’s grandfather glanced across at his wife and smiled. ‘The party is a makeshift attempt to dig myself out of a very deep hole. Today, as I’m sure you have forgotten, as I did, I’m ashamed to say, is our wedding anniversary. It’s fifty-nine years to the day that I did the decent thing and made an honest woman of your grandmother. The party is an impromptu way of apology.’
Penelope Attlin nodded and smiled. ‘He did trot out his usual excuse,’ she said with a mock frown at her husband. ‘You know, he says he doesn’t like to rake up old grievances and anniversaries are best forgotten.’
During the laughter that followed Walter Attlin’s ancient family joke, Rory glanced across at Harriet. She was looking decidedly weary and he went over to sit beside her.
‘Don’t say it,’ she answered his concerned look. ‘I know I look a wreck. I’m worn out. Penelope and Walter are being lovely but I’m going to call it a day soon and head for bed. I’m in no state for a party and besides, the painkillers I’m on are making me very woozy.’ She had dark circles under her eyes but managed a smile as Rory described Sam’s new housemate. ‘Bless him,’ she nodded. ‘Soft as butter, Sam’s heart, but a cat will be good company for him. I look forward to meeting Hector and to getting home to my own little moggie tomorrow.’
‘What do you think about this party tonight, Harriet?’ Rory was still wondering about it.
‘I think Walter is lighting fires to keep the darkness away,’ she said, surprising him, and smiled faintly at his reaction. ‘Or the modern equivalent,’ she explained. ‘I mean he’s insistent that his accident hasn’t put the fear of God in him and having a party is one way of showing he’s not to be browbeaten. Besides,’ she added, ‘as he always says himself, old people have to kill themselves in their own way. They survived last Friday’s dinner remarkably unscathed, so why not a small drinks do in their own home? And a fifty-ninth wedding anniversary is reason enough.’
Rory nodded and got up to corner the old man. ‘Cousin Walter,’ he murmured, ‘did you really not see who it was, who drove into you, I mean?’
His host eyed him with resignation. ‘You’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?’ he sighed. ‘I suppose Edith’s got you playing detectives with her? Oh yes,’ he grunted with amusement. ‘You think anything goes unnoticed round here? It’s all over the village that you’ve been poking about in the archives with Sam Hathaway and that he’s been asking lots of questions. And Edith has been going about practically wearing a deerstalker.’ He glanced across the room and caught Harriet’s eye. ‘You too, I gather?’