Justin sighed. ‘I’ll meet you both in the office. I haven’t got much time.’
‘God, he’s irritating. I could quite easily hate him!’ muttered Meg to her mother as they followed him inside, both unable to carry on with their pleasant tasks now he was here.
‘Try not to, darling. Andrew thinks the world of him. Although he did say Justin could be difficult.’
‘I should cocoa!’ said Meg. Then she straightened her dress, the one deemed ‘a bit short’ when she first arrived in Dorset, and followed her mother into the office.
‘You haven’t many bookings, I see,’ said Justin, looking up from the reservations book.
‘We’ve a couple coming today who are staying for several days,’ said Louise.
‘A Frenchwoman?’
‘She’s a countess,’ said Meg.
‘She still only sleeps in one bed. Although I see there are two rooms booked.’ He looked at Meg. ‘Does this countess not share a bedroom with her husband?’
‘It’s none of your business!’ said Meg indignantly. ‘Anyway, she’s not travelling with her husband.’
‘They’re friends of Meg’s,’ said Louise, sounding conciliatory. ‘Very nice people.’
‘It makes no difference what they’re like,’ Justin said. ‘If bookings don’t go up, we will have to close down sooner than I thought. We’re not running a hotel for occasional blow-ins for Sunday lunch, one old lady and Meg’s chums.’
‘Has Andrew said this to you? About having to close down?’ asked Louise.
‘As you know, my father is away. I’m keeping an eye on things for him.’
‘We’re aware that we don’t really have enough guests,’ said Meg. ‘But we have plans to improve that.’
‘What plans?’ asked Justin.
Meg’s mouth had gone dry. ‘I’m intending to write them all down and present them to Andrew.’ This was the first she’d heard of these plans, but they sounded a good idea, even if she didn’t yet know what they were.
‘Present them to me. By the end of the week at the latest,’ said Justin.
‘You can have them when they’re ready!’ said Meg, now regretting her rash statement.
‘Which will be by the end of the week,’ said Justin. ‘Now, Louise, can you talk me through the rest of the figures?’
‘Of course, Justin!’ said Louise, in a way that made Meg shudder with irritation.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said, and retreated to the kitchen.
Meg always felt calmer when she was in the kitchen. She felt at home there, and knew what she was doing.
Unlike many kitchens in large country houses, this one was full of light. The long scrubbed table meant there was plenty of space to work and she enjoyed using the old chopping boards worn down by generations of cooks. She loved putting her hand into the old salt pig and using the storage jars that were full of flour.
Now, she set about making pastry and, two hours later, she had made some quiches, a tray of little tart cases she planned to fill later, there was a roasting tin of tomatoes filled with peas, a flattened lamb joint that wouldn’t take long to cook, and some scrubbed new potatoes. There was also a saucepan full of slicedvegetables, fresh from the garden, and a large pile of finely chopped parsley. Having this in abundance a few feet away from the kitchen never failed to give Meg a rush of pleasure.
Meg surveyed her preparations. If all went to plan, it would be wonderful. There was one other couple dining, so she and her mother would join Alexandra and David. Justin had disappeared, presumably having gone back to his usual job, wherever that was. Now she was ready, she allowed herself to get really excited about Alexandra and David’s visit.
Louise took her up to a spot on the first floor which gave a good view of the entrance to the drive, where people slowed down to turn in.
‘You’ve got time to be downstairs at the door, with your breath back, before they get here,’ Louise explained. ‘It’s terribly useful. I like to know who’s ringing the bell before they ring it.’
‘I suppose that is nice. I’ve never had the luxury of being able to see people before they arrive before.’
‘You get to like it,’ said Louise and they settled in to wait.
