A Year of New Adventures. Maddie Please

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A Year of New Adventures - Maddie Please

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thought Elaine was going to have the downstairs room,’ Nancy said. ‘I remember because it’s got an en suite, and I wanted it.’

      ‘She did, but Oliver Forest has a leg in a boot and he commandeered it before I could stop him. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Elaine,’ I said.

      Nancy went into her room – a large single with an exceptionally ugly turquoise sink in one corner.

      ‘Goodness, this is a ghastly thing,’ Vivienne said, evidently pleased that she had the better room. ‘How did they get away with putting this in? I thought this house was listed?’

      ‘Ah but just think! This could be the very sink where Charles I brushed his teeth before the Battle of Bosworth,’ Nancy said.

      Vivienne snorted. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake. So what time is lunch? One o’clock? Good, there’s time to get freshened up and have a power nap.’

      Nancy went into her room and closed the door and I went downstairs to help Helena with lunch. I was going to make soup and she had arranged a fresh fruit platter. There’s no point loading people up with large meals in the middle of the day; they only go to sleep and miss out on good writing time in the afternoon.

      Suddenly the door to Oliver Forest’s room opened and Pippa came out, struggling into her coat. She looked like a condemned prisoner seeing the cell door left unexpectedly open.

      ‘Are you off then?’ I said.

      Pippa closed Oliver’s door quietly behind her and came towards me, her eyes slightly wild.

      ‘Yes, I’m … absolutely … I’ll avoid the traffic if I go now … Paris … I might …’

      She had already missed the armhole of one sleeve three times and I went to help her.

      ‘Are you sure you’re OK? Would you like a drink of water or something?’

      ‘Yes fine. No. Really. Absolutely.’

      She had an outstandingly pretty face, but it was clouded with unease. I could almost feel the stress coming off her in waves.

      ‘I wonder if you could take Mr Forest in some more coffee in a minute? Black, no sugar. And don’t bother with those silly little mugs – I think he’d prefer a bucket if anything. He has lunch between one-thirty and two p.m. But no shellfish and definitely no cheese – it makes him sleepy and grouchy.’

      ‘No cheese; thank you for the warning. I don’t think we’d want to risk making him grouchy would we?’ I said. ‘But surely he’d want to come out and meet everyone?’

      Pippa shot me the smallest smile. ‘Good luck with that then.’

      I trailed after her as she edged towards the back door. I was curious to find out more before she disappeared in a flurry of angst.

      ‘Back to London are you? I expect you’ll enjoy a few days off,’ I said.

      ‘Yes, I mean no … I have plenty to keep me occupied. Paris – I should – Oliver’s work, difficult, you know how it is.’ She stopped to blow her nose on a tissue and take a deep breath. I swear she was about to burst into tears. ‘And, of course, the blasted launch has been postponed. It’s far from ideal … but then needs must. Anyway, I’ll be along on Friday to collect Mr Forest.’

      ‘We have to be out by ten-thirty, remember? Don’t be late! We don’t want to have to leave him on the doorstep!’

      ‘Yes of course. God Almighty! No, please don’t! He’d go mad!’ Pippa said, wide-eyed at the prospect.

      ‘I was joking,’ I said.

      ‘Oh. Were you? OK. Well you’ve got my mobile number. Right, I’ll be off.’

      Pippa shot out of the door and round the corner of the house. I closed the door after her and went back to my vegetables, wondering what it would be like to work for someone who was so terrifying.

      Five minutes later Oliver’s door opened and the man himself stood there. ‘I thought you were bringing me coffee?’ he said.

      Ah! I had of course forgotten. I gave a nervous little laugh.

      ‘Yes, just coming. Awfully sorry, you see I was a bit busy with …’

      ‘In your own time,’ he said and closed the door again.

      I pulled a face at where he had been and went to flick the kettle on. Black, no sugar, and in a bucket. Right, I could do that.

      There was a knock on the back door and a worried little face at the glass peering in. She gave a big smile when she saw me.

      ‘You must be Elaine!’ I went to open the door and helped her in with her suitcase that was almost as big as she was. ‘How lovely to meet you at last. Come on in and make yourself at home. We’re very glad to welcome you. Helena is upstairs with our other guests Nancy and Vivienne, although I think Vivienne was going to have a nap.’

      Elaine took off her fingerless mittens and unwound her woolly scarf.

      ‘What a lovely house – lots of character in these old half-timbered places. You can almost feel the history can’t you? If these walls could talk eh? I bet there would be a few tales. Do you know, I was saying to Frank the other day …’

      Oliver’s door opened again at this point and Oliver stood there, his face dark and irritated.

      ‘Ah,’ I said.

      ‘Coffee?’ he said. ‘Today?’

      ‘Of course, sorry I was just getting Elaine settled. This is Elaine by the way. She’s …’

      Oliver closed his bedroom door again with a noticeable slam.

      ‘… the one whose bedroom you nicked,’ I finished.

      ‘He’s in my room?’ Elaine said, and turned her worried round face to look at me.

      ‘I’m sorry; it seems he’s injured his ankle. He’s in one of those boot things. He just went in there before I could stop him. I would have got him out but he’s not very friendly.’

      ‘No,’ Elaine said looking at the closed door thoughtfully. ‘He’s not very polite either is he?’

      I stood up and went to make a cafetière of coffee and poured out a cup for Elaine. She was busy looking through her handbag and pulling out paperwork, charging cables, spectacles, and all sorts of odds and ends.

      I found one of those awful oversized mugs decorated with a slogan for chocolate that usually come with Easter eggs and are really only useful for storing pencils. I put it on the tray with the cafetière and went and knocked on Oliver’s door.

      ‘Come.’

      I went in. He was still sitting with his feet up on the footstool, writing in his notebook. He didn’t look up as I came in.

      ‘Leave it on the table,’ he said.

      ‘Please,’

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