“Er, which was that, sir?”
“It really doesn’t matter.”
A joyful light came into the eyes of the stall minder. “Right you are.” Quickly, before he could change his mind, she picked up a pewter hand mirror, tarnished and dented, with blurry glass, optimistically marked at ten shillings. Among china dogs with chipped ears for fourpence, raffia napkin rings at a penny apiece, and a three-volume set of Victorian sermons (rejected by the book stall) for one-and-six, it was quite the most expensive item. “D’you want it wrapped, sir?”
Declining the sheet of newspaper she offered, he handed over a ten-shilling note and unenthusiastically took possession of the looking glass. He waited while Daisy spent half a crown on a travelling chess set with one bishop missing.
“The twins will invent games for it,” she said as they turned away.
“I suppose they’ve provided barrels somewhere for rubbish?”
“Don’t throw it away! That looking glass has provided increasing sums for good causes at least since I was a child. If you give it to the vicar’s wife, she’ll see that it goes back among the white elephants at the next jumble sale.”
Raymond shook his head in wonderment. “If you say so!”
“Mummy!” Belinda hurried up to them. “Hello, Uncle Raymond. Mummy, I’m glad I found you. Derek and Ben are having a go at the archery. They say girls aren’t allowed. Will you come and make them let me?”
“I’ve done some bow hunting,” Raymond said unexpectedly. “I’ll go with you. On the veldt, most women know how to shoot in case of necessity. I don’t see why you shouldn’t try your skill with a bow and arrows.”
“All right, pet?”
“Oh yes, Mummy. They’re bound to listen to Uncle Raymond.”
They left Daisy to contemplate Bel’s lack of confidence in her stepmama’s persuasive ability. She also gave some thought to Raymond’s sudden show of an amiable side to his nature, hitherto invisible. She couldn’t believe he’d been concealing a liking for young people. Perhaps he just wanted to show off, though she would have thought he considered himself too superior in every way to need to demonstrate the fact.
SIXTEEN
After chatting with several people, Daisy decided she’d better go and check on Martha.
Martha was knitting. “A scarf to start with,” she said proudly, holding up a pale blue square. “Purl as well as plain. Mrs. Latchett says I can keep the needles and this ball of wool.”
“Very nice.” Knitting was another skill Daisy had never attempted. “Are you ready for a cup of tea?”
“Yes, please. Mrs. Latchett, I can’t thank you enough for teaching me.”
“Anytime you want another lesson, bach, just you have Bill Truscott run you down to the shop—Latchett’s, in the main street.”
“It’s very kind of you, Mrs. Latchett,” said Daisy. “I’ll have someone bring you a cup of tea.”
“That’s all right, thank you, madam. Someone’ll soon be taking over for me here.” She chuckled. “And thank you for making Mr. Raymond buy the looking glass! It’s all over the fair.”
They made their way to the tea tent. Daisy was pleased to see her sister sitting at a table to one side.
“Vi, you remember Martha. Mrs. Samuel.” They had met at lunch the day before.
“Yes, of course.” Violet smiled her gentle smile. “Do come and sit down, Mrs. Samuel—”
“Martha, please, Lady John!”
“As you wish. We’ll make Daisy fetch your tea. John’s getting mine.”
“Is Mother here?”
“Come and gone, like a whirlwind. The gardener was sent to spy for her, to let her know as soon as Geraldine left. She had a word with Edgar. I don’t know what was said. Then she departed, in case Geraldine should come back. Martha, you’re one of the family, so I know you’ll be discreet.”
Martha blushed with pleasure. “Oh yes, Lady John.”
“Violet,” Vi told her, smiling, just as her husband arrived with a tray of tea and pastries.
“Hello, Daisy. Hello, Cousin Martha. Just let me empty this tray and I’ll go back—Oh, here’s Owen. Be a good chap, and fetch tea for Mrs. Fletcher and me, will you?” He gave the dowager’s gardener a handful of coins. “And keep the change.”
Owen grinned. “Right away, m’lord.”
“Milk and sugar not optional, I’m afraid,” John said, passing a thick white cup of muddy liquid to Martha and one to his wife. “Have you seen Derek about, Daisy?”