‘Happen you might have room for a couple of old folk now them tornadoes have disappeared,’ he said, holding the door for his wife.
Her boss sounded almost jovial, Bobby noticed as he limped in after Mary. He looked healthier than a month ago too, and younger somehow. She wondered if this was the effect of Tony’s cigarette smoke disappearing, or if – something she never would have suspected of Reg Atherton – semi-retirement actually suited him. Mary had told her that now he had time on his hands, Reg had got back into his old hobby of birdwatching. This was testified to by the binoculars hanging around his neck.
‘Well then, lass, how are things?’ he asked, glancing at the various papers on Bobby’s desk. ‘All set for deadline?’
Mary shook her head. ‘Now, Reg, must you always be talking shop? The poor girl’s not on the clock. She’d be on her way home if it weren’t for us.’
‘I’m in no hurry,’ Bobby said. ‘Charlie’s gone to Skipton for that bank interview so he won’t be back until later.’
‘Still, you don’t want to be hanging around cold sheds when you could be beside a warm hearth.’
‘Not at all. It’s nice to see you both. I do miss our little household at Moorside.’
‘Aye, it’s good to see you too.’ Mary came forward to embrace her, but Bobby held up a hand, conscious of the bump her broad skirt was barely concealing.
‘You’d better not hug me. I think I’m coming down with a cold.’
As if to prove this, Bobby took out her handkerchief and theatrically blew her nose.
‘I do feel guilty about evicting you,’ Mary said with a sigh. ‘It’s no wonder you’re catching cold in this old hut. It’s Reg’s lungs that had me worried. Those cigarettes young Tony smokes are the devil for bringing on his cough.’
‘Thought it was your precious parlour ceiling you were bothered about,’ Reg said.
Mary smiled. ‘Aye, that too. But I’m almost as fond of you as I am of the parlour ceiling, love. Happen even a mite more.’
‘Soft lass,’ Reg said, giving her a kiss. He turned to Bobby. ‘Well, is the February number done?’
‘Yes, we’re on schedule, assuming Tony’s report on the drama festival can be signed off on Monday,’ Bobby said. ‘We still need your editor’s report and some other bits, then I’ll take everything into Settle and have the printers make up a set of proofs. Do you want to take any copy home to check?’
‘Nay, you know your business.’ Reg paused, with a guilty glance at Mary. ‘Well, happen I might take a couple of pieces. Does no harm to get another pair of eyes on them.’
Mary shook her head. ‘I was a fool to myself thinking I could get this old man to retire. He’ll be subbing copy on his deathbed.’
‘Shall we go up to the house and meet this young lady of the captain’s?’ Bobby said. ‘He told me we wouldn’t be intruding if we stopped in to say hello.’
‘Rude not to pass the time of day, I suppose,’ Mary said. But Bobby noticed how her friend’s lips pursed, as they generally did when talk turned to the captain’s lady friend.
‘I’ll take Tony’s typewriter,’ Reg said. ‘Should be able to manage it and the stick, since it’s a portable. Bobby, can you carry yours?’
‘I’ll carry it,’ Lilian said. ‘You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things, Bob.’ She caught the look her sister gave her and hastily added, ‘Not if you’re getting a cold.’
Bobby allowed her sister to take the Remington. She locked the door while Lilian and Reg went ahead with the typewriters. Soft snow had started to fall.
Mary hung back, however. The look on her face suggested she was keen to have some confidential talk, which worried Bobby. Had her refusal of a hug given away her secret?
‘I thought you’d be running up to the house to get an introduction to this Miss Simpson,’ Bobby said brightly. ‘Aren’t you desperate to know what she’s like?’
‘Huh. I know what she’s like,’ Mary said, sniffing. ‘All fur coat and no drawers.’
Bobby was starting to feel quite sorry for poor Veronica Simpson. She didn’t have many friends in her suitor’s family circle, with both the Parry children and now Mary taking against her.
‘You don’t like her?’ Bobby said, taking her friend’s arm. In her overcoat with bump well concealed, she felt a lot more secure.
‘I’m only surprised George would be interested in such a flashy type.’
‘I thought you approved of him courting.’
‘Aye, with the right sort. Someone who’ll be a mam to them little girls. That one’s no good. Too young, too pretty and thinks far too well of herself. She’ll be out gadding every night, same way Violet was.’
