‘He’s pretty handy with a knife,’ I said.
‘It puts me in a sticky situation, though,’ she said. ‘The property’s not mine. I’m just the agent. The owner pays me to do a job. In this case, the job is clearing out the house for new tenants.’
‘Who’s the owner?’ I asked.
Kate smiled but didn’t answer.
She finished her tea, put the cup gently on the saucer, back on the tray. Back in no-man’s land. The détente unbroken.
‘Your father used to own the property,’ I said.
‘Used to.’
‘What’s going to happen when you tell your boss you failed to get rid of the Leckies?’
‘I imagine there’ll be some disappointment expressed,’ she said. ‘But that’s my problem, not yours.’
She rang the bell for the maid. We waited in silence. It wouldn’t do to argue in front of the staff. Once the tea things had been taken, Kate stood up, brushing non-existent crumbs from her dress, memories of a time when tea would have been cakes and sandwiches.
She held out her hand and I took it.
‘Thanks for visiting,’ she said.
*
Victor was standing by my van, nursing his broken arm. There was broken glass on the gravel. He’d kicked in all of the lights, front and back. A child who hadn’t got his way, lashing out.
‘You should quit while you’re ahead,’ I said, walking directly towards him. ‘One arm out of action’s an inconvenience,but you can still get by. You’ll have to use your left hand. It’ll feel like you’ve got a girlfriend.’
He scuttled back, out of range, as I reached the van.
I kicked the broken glass out of the way of the tyres.
The gravel crunched behind me and the maid appeared, a shawl round her thin shoulders and a basket in her hand.
‘Going into town?’ I asked.
She looked at me cautiously, and flicked her eyes to Victor.
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ I said.
Victor grabbed the maid’s arm and pulled her to him.
‘Mabel likes the walk,’ he said. ‘Gives her more time away from the old dragon.’
He draped his left arm over Mabel’s shoulder. She froze. His hand covered her breast, and squeezed. She ignored it, keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon, her face flushing red.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I could use the company.’
She pulled away from Victor and I held out my hand, helping her up into the passenger seat.
She was quiet as we pulled out of the driveway, back down the sunken lane. I didn’t know what to say, so we both sat with our thoughts. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen. Her first job, working in the big house for minimal pay and a straw mattress at the end of the long day. She was gaunt. She’d grown up hungry. A common enough story. Going into service was more about finding somewhere warm and dry to sleep, where the meals were provided, than the pay.
‘He’ll take it out on me later,’ she said.
‘Tell him he’d better not, if he wants to keep the other arm available for use.’
‘You and whose army?’ she said.
