‘I need a dark room, Mrs Canning. A room where absolutely all light can be excluded, so that I may safely develop my prints. This room, with only a tiny window and such a good solid door, is perfect.’
‘It’s quite impossible, Reverend. In this weather! Nothing will last from one hour till the next, if I haven’t a cold store for it! Perhaps we might do without it in winter, or even spring … but now? No, no – it will not do …’ Mrs Bell protests.
‘Nevertheless, Mrs Bell, this is the perfect – nay, the only – place that will do for it. Mr Durrant’s needs are quite specific,’ says the vicar, his voice steady and his expression adamant.
‘And can he be specific about how I should manage without it?’ the housekeeper snaps, much to Robin Durrant’s apparent delight.
‘That’s enough, thank you, Mrs Bell,’ Hester says, as soothingly as she can. With a black look on her face, the housekeeper disappears into the kitchen. Hester finds her pulse racing, and an odd rushing sound fills her ears. ‘Albert,’ she says, trying to get her husband’s attention as he returns to the store and begins to pile up bowls of fruit and vegetables. ‘Albert!’ She lowers her voice, aiming to speak only to him. ‘There must be some other place we can install Mr Durrant’s equipment! This is hardly appropriate – for one thing, it is below stairs, and Mrs Bell is quite right to resent the intrusion into her domain. And for another, in this hot weather it is madness to lose the use of this room for food! I do wish you had consulted with me about this beforehand … I could have pointed out earlier that this is really not the answer—’
‘But it is, Hetty. Robin has searched all over the house, and this is the only place one might sensibly set up a dark room,’ Albert insists.
‘Well … what about one of the outbuildings? The old woodshed has no windows at all – surely we could arrange some worktops of some kind in there for him?’
‘The old woodshed? It’s full of dust and spiders, Hester! Don’t be so ridiculous! How can Robin be expected to produce something as fragile and important as a photograph of an elemental when he is surrounded by crumbling plaster and sawdust? Really – you must desist with this obstruction!’
‘But … but you shouldn’t even be down here!’ Hester whispers, unhappily. Two firsts in the space of five minutes, she thinks – Sophie Bell laughing, and Albert below stairs, within the female realm of the kitchen and utility areas.
‘Excuse me,’ Albert says again, passing her with the load of fruit and vegetables. Hester turns to watch him go, and catches the eye of the theosophist, still dallying in the corridor. She can’t hold his gaze, and drops her eyes, filling with ill-defined outrage.
‘I am sorry to be such a nuisance,’ Robin says, not sounding sorry at all. Hester squeezes her teeth together and manages the briefest of smiles before walking past him after her husband. She cannot find it in her to accept his apology.
‘I’m quite sure you will manage, Mrs Bell. You are a woman of great resource,’ Albert says to the housekeeper, uncomfortably, as Hester catches up with him.
‘Just the milk, then, Reverend? It can’t hurt to let me keep the milk in there – it won’t take up much room …’
‘No, I’m afraid that’s quite out of the question. The risk of contamination is too great. There. I apologise if you are inconvenienced, Mrs Bell, but the needs of our guest must take precedence in this instance. Our work is of the utmost importance. I would be grateful if you could bring out the rest of the food, and let us hear no more about it,’ the vicar says, and walks away up the stairs.
‘Madam, can’t you talk to him? Everything will spoil!’ Sophie appeals to Hester once Albert is out of earshot.
Oddly short of breath, Hester can only shake her head helplessly. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. Please just … do the best you can,’ she says. She glances back along the corridor but Robin Durrant has gone out into the courtyard, leaving the cold store half empty and the spilt batter on the floor, attracting flies. Seconds later, Cat appears, drying her hands on her apron with a look of outrage on her face.
‘The theosophist just sent me in to clear up his bloody mess, if you please,’ she snaps, recoiling slightly when she sees that Hester is still in the room. ‘Begging your pardon, madam,’ she mutters.
‘No, that’s quite all right, Cat. If you wouldn’t mind, please do see to it,’ Hester says meekly, and flees the anger of the two women. At the top of the stairs she pauses, suddenly quite at a loss as to where to go or what to do next. It seems as though the house has changed somehow, as though somebody has been in during her absence and shifted all the furniture slightly, so that nothing is quite in its right place. Our work is of the utmost importance. Albert’s words echo in her head. Is this where that important thing has been lost, then? Did it start the day Albert rushed indoors and told her he’d seen elemental beings? She’d hardly believed him serious, at the time. Feeling unsettled and almost afraid, Hester goes into the parlour and sits on the edge of a chair, quite alone.