Meg ran back into the kitchen, trying to remember if the drinks cupboard was fully stocked. She ought to bring in some water. Was there ice? She pulled open the refrigerator and opened the bit at the top. There was a metal tray of ice in there. It took a bit of chipping with a knife but she got it out and was running hot water over it to release the cubes when her mother came in.
‘It’s Justin!’ she said in a stage whisper.
‘I know!’ said Meg, also whispering. ‘He came in through the kitchen. Did anyone know he was going to be here tonight?’ she added in a normal voice.
‘You mean Andrew? I don’t think so.’
‘Well, I’ll carry on getting the meal out, you go back and take this ice and some water for his whisky. I eavesdropped,’ she added.
‘He’s a bit unnerving in his motorbike leathers,’ Louise said.
‘Oh, Mum! Pull yourself together! He’s only human,’ said Meg.
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ said Justin, striding into the room. ‘You’ve got ice. Excellent. I am staying for dinner and you’ll eat with us, Meg. Assuming you can get it on the table and eat it without dropping anything?’
He was being so rude that Meg just rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to reward his bad behaviour with a reaction. He was probably being overprotective of his father regarding Louise. It was natural, but annoying. ‘I’ll get you some water.’
‘I don’t need water.’ Justin gave her one of the looks he had probably perfected over the years, so he could turn a kitchen porter into stone without having to raise his voice. ‘But thank you for the ice.’
What should have been a quiet dinner for three, with the third rushing off as soon after pudding as she could, was suddenly fraught with tension: Justin wasn’t happy.
As she watched him layer bits of melba toast with butter and pâté (she was glad she hadn’t made butter curls, although she had been tempted), Meg saw there was antipathy between him and his father. The looks he sent towards her mother, who was trying to make polite conversation, were fairly savage too.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home, Dad?’ he asked.
‘I’m only here for a night,’ said Andrew. ‘I didn’t think you’d be able to get away.’ He paused. ‘Did Colin tell you I was coming?’
‘Yes,’ said Justin.
‘Colin is my brother,’ said Andrew to Louise and Meg. ‘I’m the executor of my father’s will but, of course, he has an interest in it.’
‘He doesn’t feel that he has an interest,’ said Justin.
‘He’s annoyed that he isn’t an executor too,’ said Andrew. ‘Although I don’t know why. It’s a hell of a lot of work.’
‘So why are you here, Dad?’ asked Justin.
‘I need the deeds to Nightingale Woods. There are some details that need clarifying.’
‘I did say I could have posted them to you,’ said Louise, obviously trying to be placatory.
‘But that would have necessitated you knowing the combination to the safe,’ said Justin. ‘Which might not have been a good thing.’
Meg was outraged. Was Justin suggesting that if Louise knew the combination of the safe she might steal something?
Andrew frowned at his son. ‘You don’t have to be so rude, Justin. I wanted to check on things here so I decided to fetch them myself.’ He gave Louise a rather obviously loving look.
Justin looked down at the table, scowling. Meg got up. ‘I’m going to get the next course,’ she said. ‘No!’ She held up a peremptory hand. ‘I don’t need help.’
In spite of this, Louise joined her in the kitchen. ‘It’s awful! Justin obviously hates me,’ she said, whispering again, although there was no danger of them being overheard from two rooms and a large hall away.
‘Take no notice. You know what he’s like. Can you put a plate in the hot oven for me? I only warmed three.’
‘Isn’t that rather a lot of butter for the mashed potato?’ said Louise, having obliged with the plate.
‘No. It’s a perfect amount!’ Meg was getting tetchy. ‘Now, is that everything?’ She had a large tray laden with vegetable dishes.
‘Why don’t you serve it in here, and take the full plates through? Then there’s less risk of spilling chicken chasseur on the tablecloth,’ said Louise.
