‘I like helping. I don’t like school much.’
‘Well, you can always come and work in this hotel in your spare time if your aunt lets you, while I’m in charge anyway,’ said Meg. ‘Would you like to smooth that pillow a bit? A woman your aunt calls Lady Fussy-Knickers is going to sleep here.’
Sally giggled. Meg did too. Who cared about the weather? They couldn’t do anything about it, after all.
‘I think that’s perfect,’ said Meg a few minutes later. ‘And the flowers look beautiful, and we’ve got all the best towels. Let’s move on to the next room.’
Sally gave the counterpane a final twitch and then agreed.
A couple of hours later Meg had retreated to the kitchen to think whether there were enough desserts for the trolley. This was something she could control, she had decided. There was no point in worrying about things that she couldn’t, like the mud, or if the lock on Lady Fussy-Knickers’ door was wonky.
Justin found her there. She hadn’t heard a motorbike so assumed he must have driven. His sudden presence made her jump.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I came to see if you needed any help. You’ve got a big day coming up tomorrow and my father and your mother are still away. Is there anything I can do for you?’
He was looking at her in a way Meg couldn’t interpret. Was he was watching for signs that she was going to refuse help, even if she needed it? This wasn’t unreasonable; he knew how she liked to solve her own problems. Or was it something else? Vanessa’s ridiculous suggestion that he fancied her floated into her mind. Her mouth went dry, she coughed and moved away. She couldn’t take the intensity of his look any longer.
‘Actually—’ she began.
And then Laura came into the room. ‘Here you are, Jussy – Justin!’ she corrected herself hurriedly and gave Meg a coy look. ‘I suppose he knew he’d find you here, Meg. You are pretty much always in the kitchen, aren’t you? We’ve come to help. The race day is a big one for local hotels and we knew you were here on your own.’
‘I do have Susan and her team,’ said Meg, indignant on their behalf. ‘And Vanessa is coming today with her mother, Lady Lennox-Stanley.’
‘Oh, her!’ said Laura. ‘Our hotel is still talking about how difficult she was when she stayed last year. Isn’t that right, Justin?’
Justin made a non-committal gesture. ‘What was it you said needed doing, Meg?’
‘The lock on Lady Lennox-Stanley’s door is a bit tricky. I asked Bob to sort it out, but he’s been so busy—’
‘I’ll go and have a look,’ said Justin.
‘Her room is the one—’ Meg began, but he was halfway out of the door.
‘I know which one it is,’ he said.
‘Justin is so kind, isn’t he?’ said Laura, sitting on the table as if settling in for a chat. ‘I knew he’d say yes the moment I suggested we came over to help. But couples do that, don’t they? They know what the other is thinking.’
Laura showed no signs of moving and Meg didn’t quite feel she could ask her to. She put some scattered utensils in a tidy row, hoping to give Laura the hint that she was sitting on a work surface. ‘Are you and Justin engaged then?’ she asked as casually as she could.
Laura shrugged and giggled. ‘As good as! I think he’s just waiting for the right moment to propose. Or he may be having a ring made. It’s just the sort of thing he’d do, don’t you think?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ said Meg, wanting to run out of the room and scream.
‘Well, take it from me, it is.’
Having rearranged her wooden spoon, paring knife, pastry crimper and, randomly, a pair of secateurs for the second time, Meg was at a bit of a loss. She wanted to ask if Laura and Justin were sleeping together. She wanted to know and she also wanted to shock Laura,who was so smug and complacent it was all Meg could do not to push her off the table.
‘Now, Meg,’ Laura began in a low, caring voice, ‘I want you to be completely honest with me: are you really enjoying working here at Nightingale Woods? I know you’re not professionally trained but I’m sure you can manage the sort of simple fare the clientele here would be happy with. But don’t you want to stretch your wings a bit? You could learn so much if you went somewhere else? In London, maybe?’
Just for a minute, Meg wondered if she was being warned off; Laura was telling her to leave the hotel and go as far from it as she could. It was certainly one way of interpreting her words.
No, Meg decided. Laura was far too sure of her standing with Justin to think even for a moment that Meg might be a threat. It was a fairly laughable thought, after all. Laura was so svelte and confident and she, Meg, was always in her chef’s whites and checked trousers. She was very confident about her cooking, but not so much about her physical appearance.
Justin came in. ‘The lock works fine now. It just needed a drop of oil,’ he said. ‘Laura? Are you ready to go?’
Laura jumped off the table. ‘Of course, darling – Justin!’ she hastily corrected herself. ‘No endearments at work, although strictly speaking’ – she sent Justina look from under her eyelashes – ‘we’re not at work, are we?’
