Something about the way he held himself, one hand pushed deep into the pocket of his trousers, the other holding the cigarette he was smoking, and the way he didn’t even bother to turn around and look at them, made Allegra want to take a poker to him.
‘I wonder how Jack’s will would work if one of us died before the week was up?’ she asked Kit. ‘Would we still inherit, and if so, would we each then have a greater share of the pot of money?’
Arthur turned around. ‘Threatening to do away with me must surely contravene the terms of my father’s will. It’s also hardly an example of the family accord the old man was hoping for.’
‘Who said anything about doing away with you?’ said Allegra. ‘I was merely talking hypothetically.’
He gave a loud guffaw, but without a trace of amusement. Then he tapped his left eye – the eye she had blinded as a child with Kit’s catapult. ‘Of course you were, Cousin Allegra,’ he said. ‘It must be having a crime author in the house with us that put such a thought into your pretty little head.’
‘I have it on good authority that Romily’s books are very good,’ said Kit, pulling out a chair for Allegra. He was doing what he always did, thought Allegra, putting on a show of blithely ignoring the undercurrent of his brother’s simmering hostility.
‘Oh?’ said Arthur, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the sideboard behind him. ‘And who might that authority be?’
‘Evelyn Flowerday. I was just telling Allegra that I met her in the village earlier. She seems to think that Romily has a very insightful way of looking at people.’ Kit laughed. ‘Who knows, we might all come under her microscope during this week. Perhaps you’d do well to mind your Ps and Qs, Arthur. Evelyn was also saying that she’s offered Meadow Lodge as a home to take in an evacuee. Do you suppose Romily will have to do likewise here?’
‘It appears so,’ said the woman herself, appearing in the doorway with Hope behind her. ‘Lady Fogg, our newly appointed billeting officer for the village, has just telephoned to say in her inimitable way that it’s all hands on deck. Apparently it’s just what a grieving widow needs, a couple of children to keep me busy. She’s paying us a visit tomorrow morning to discuss the details.’
‘Ma Foghorn hasn’t changed, has she?’ said Kit, moving quickly to pull out a chair for his stepmother at the head of the table. ‘Still dishing out the orders as per usual.’
Romily smiled at him and sat down. ‘Her type is born to dish out orders.’
‘Will you do as she says?’ asked Allegra, thinking of the conversation they’d had in the drawing room, and still trying to fathom why she had instigated it. What had got into her?
‘I told Lady Fogg what everyone is probably telling her: that I’ll do what needs to be done and for however long it needs to be done.’
Having taken the chair at the opposite end of the table, Arthur said, ‘I assumed you’d be returning to London once this week was up. To your flat.’
‘A miscalculation on your part, Arthur,’ Romily said lightly, unfolding her napkin.
‘When are the evacuees arriving?’ asked Kit.
‘I gather that will be one of the details with which Lady Fogg will provide me. I imagine it will be after you’ve all left.’
‘Assuming we do,’ said Arthur with a smirk.
At that point Florence came in with a large soup tureen. The smell of food made Allegra’s stomach clench and she suddenly felt very hot. She fanned herself with her hand.
‘Are you all right, Allegra?’ asked Romily quietly as Florence began serving the soup.
‘Just a little warm,’ she murmured, still fanning herself and praying that her stomach would settle. She took a cautious sip from her water glass.
‘Lady Fogg also informed me that she’d just heard on the wireless that Parliament has been recalled and Neville Chamberlain has said that we’re now in imminent peril of war.’
‘So it’s really going to happen,’ murmured Hope, staring miserably across the table.
‘It would seem so,’ said Romily. ‘Nazi Germany is showing no sign of backing down.’
When Florence had left them, Arthur said, ‘Talking of Germans, Hope, where’s that tiresome charge of yours?’
‘I’ve told you before, Arthur, please show some respect and call her by her name.’
‘Very well, where is Fräulein Annelise?’
‘She’s had her lunch already and is now having a nap, if you must know.’ Hope sighed. ‘I never knew a small child could be such overwhelmingly hard work.’
‘Then perhaps you should have thought twice before accepting the responsibility,’ said Arthur. ‘You have only yourself to blame. Please don’t look to us for sympathy.’
‘What a perfectly heartless monster you are, Arthur,’ said Hope.
