One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [57]
Maggie cleared her throat. ‘Actually, we thought we’d leave it pretty much intact. The walls we’ll take back a shade to catch the morning sun, but the freestanding furniture will stay, although we’ll distress it so it’s less uniform. We won’t need a pole at the window because we won’t be dressing it. And the fridge is in the pantry. Where it will stay.’
Ralph turned slowly to face his informant. Maggie’s eyes were steady: her famous hundred-yard stare.
He blinked. ‘Is that so?’ he said softly. ‘Well, I’m sure that will work equally well too. In a…’ he smirked, searching for the word, ‘traditional kind of way.’
‘I’m a traditional kind of girl.’
‘Aren’t you just?’
A silence descended.
‘Well!’ Laura finally broke it. ‘There we are then. All sorted. Splendid. Um. Perhaps you’ll come along with me, Mr de Granville.’
‘Ralphie,’ he purred, eyes still on Maggie.
‘Ralphie, and I’ll, er, show you the formal rooms. The drawing room, the dining room and the… what have you… rooms,’ she finished lamely.
‘Delighted,’ he murmured, shooting Maggie a final glittering look. ‘Couldn’t be more thrilled.’
He swept out of the door Laura had held open for him, green coat flying, closely followed by Mum, who, despite Laura’s frown, clearly thought she was Of The Party.
‘Oh my Lord,’ Dad said with a sigh as he picked up his copy of the Independent on Sunday again. He folded it, the better to peruse the crossword. ‘That man will have my wife eating out of his silk-lined pockets before he’s through, no doubt about that. I like your style, Maggie.’ He shot her an approving look before attending to One Across.
‘Oh dear.’ Maggie turned, distressed, to Hugh. ‘I hope I wasn’t too… you know…’
‘Punchy? Not in the least. Frankly, I’d like to tell him what to do with his solid glass curtain pole, but I’m afraid Laura’s smitten.’
‘D’you mean up his bum?’ asked Charlie, who, at eight, delighted in all things scatological.
‘My advice, Hugh,’ said Dad, reaching across to swat Charlie on the head with his newspaper, ‘is to give in graciously. You’ll have to eventually, so you may as well do it now. I speak from experience here. Spot a campaign early, that’s what I say. Whether it’s a new dishwasher or a new dog, these women lobby till they’ve ground you down.’ He shuddered. ‘Why more of them don’t go into politics beats me.’
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Hugh gloomily. He picked a bit of dried egg off the tablecloth. ‘I’ll probably have absolutely no say in the matter, as usual.’
‘And you, young man, can come with me.’ Dad got to his feet. Charlie was mincing around the kitchen, flapping his hands camply and aping Ralph’s effeminate voice: ‘Pinkie-perfect fridge here, mousy-mousy thingy there…’
Dad caught his shoulders and steered him out of the door. ‘We’re gonna check out Daisy’s bantams.’
‘Oh!’ Daisy, who’d remained pretty much inert and abstracted throughout the whole episode, jumped to her feet. Pausing only to shove her feet into wellies by the back door, she ran after them, dressing gown flapping.
‘Wait for me!’
Under the circumstances, Maggie and I felt the great outdoors was probably the best place for us too. We went upstairs to grab jackets, and then, whilst Mr de—Ralphie, prowled the great indoors, the two unmarried ladies, as befitted their station – and for all the world like a couple of Jane Austen characters, we decided with a giggle – took a turn about the rose garden.
‘Although I’m not convinced they’d chain-smoke their way round,’ I remarked as Maggie paused to light her second cigarette of the morning. There was a stiff