Mrs Abercrombie offloaded a stack of flat-pack boxes bearing the mendacious words ‘Tea Lady Instore Bakery’ and then she zoomed off in her Audi TT.
Marnie had told her that a large separate fridge for Tea Lady usage only was on order. It wasn’t, but it would be by the end of the day. She also needed to buy a lot of ingredients and cake tins. The day was taken up with shopping for those. It kept her mind away from what happened exactly a week ago: Suranna Fox storming the building, her life falling down a well – and one that felt as deep as any Margaret Kytson was thrown into.
But thanks to Mrs McMaid and Lilian Dearman, she hadn’t quite reached the bottom. Yet. She had a ledge to rest on, to recoup and rebuild. She had no idea how permanent the ledge was, but it was holding for now.
The fridge was delivered the next morning. She’d had to pay forty pounds more for it to happen, but that was okay. It was either that or wait until Monday and she needed the kitchen to be fully operational as soon as possible.
She had hoped to relax in the garden and read a couple of chapters of Country Manors down by the stream, but the heavens opened that afternoon and so she read at the kitchen table instead whilst eating a baked potato. The lord of the manor – Manfred Masters – (who it was suspected had warlock’s blood in him) had just seduced the gamekeeper’s wife, Eunice, who had shown herself to be – in plain parlance – a right goer, despite making all that jam for the local WI. Manfred could have charmed the knickers off anyone, but the author had still managed to make him sound like a decent bloke. It was fairly obvious that Eunice was merely using him, though. Marnie couldn’t wait until Manfred, who was falling in love with her, found out.
Just as Marnie was reaching a very juicy part, there was a knock on the door. She was surprised to find the May Queen herself on the doorstep, clutching a bunch of flowers.
‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’ asked Ruby.
‘No, not at all,’ fibbed Marnie.
‘I brought you these. Moving-in present.’
‘Thank you very much. That’s so sweet.’
It became obvious after an awkward silence that Ruby was angling to come in and Marnie was too polite to say, ‘cheers then’ and shut the door in her face. So she invited her inside.
‘Can I get you a coffee or a tea?’ She remembered Lionel’s gift. ‘Or a glass of wine, maybe?’
‘Thank you, a glass would be lovely. Mr Temple’s is it?’
‘That’s right.’
Marnie noticed how preened Ruby was, as if she was dressed for business rather than pleasure. She’d done a Body Language and Presentation course at Café Caramba and it had been rather insightful.
There was a prickle in the air as they waded through conversational niceties. Marnie played the game, until Ruby revealed her real reason for being there. She also made sure that she sipped the industrial-strength wine very slowly herself, but refilled Ruby’s glass in the hope that it would oil her tongue and they could get to the nitty-gritty.
Information was duly traded: Ruby’s family had always lived in Wychwell. Her father and mother were divorced and he’d moved back to Skipperstone. Ruby was a twenty-nine-year-old primary school teacher and was a member of Skipperstone’s am-dram society. She liked to sew, knit and read but not trashy stuff like the Country Manors thing that everyone was talking about. Her mother – Kay – worked part-time both in Plum Corner post office and in a mini supermarket in Mintbottom.
Marnie was more than careful with the information she gave out and forgave herself the odd untruth. Had she enjoyed the May Day festivities? – yes (true). How had she met Lilian? – on a baking site on the internet (true). What brought her to Wychwell? – she was in between jobs and taking some time out from the rat race (half-true). The line of Ruby’s questioning then become very telling: was Marnie single – yes (true). How long was she planning on staying – not that long (true). When was the last time she’d had a boyfriend – too long ago to remember (lie). Was there anyone she had her eye on? Marnie wanted to answer, ‘Herv Gunnarsen,’ and watch Ruby spontaneously combust, but she answered ‘absolutely not’ instead. If Ruby Sweetman wasn’t here to warn her off Lilian’s rugged Viking gardener, Marnie would have not only eaten someone’s hat, but the head inside it as well.
Ruby was knocking back the wine under the impression that Marnie was drawing level with her. If Marnie had had so much as a full glass of the stuff, there would have been a repeat of what had happened with Lilian on the confessional night she couldn’t remember. She wouldn’t have bet that her secrets would have been as safe with Miss Sweetman as they were with Lilian.
Eventually the H-word reared its mane-like head.
‘Have you met Lilian’s groundsman yet – Herv?’ Ruby asked. A discernible sigh was tagged onto the end of his name, Marnie noticed.
‘The bloke with the hair and the beard?’ Marnie played dumb. ‘I just said hello at the May Day event. Lilian introduced us.’
‘He’s gorgeous isn’t he?’ Ruby let Marnie fill up her glass again and then Marnie pretended to top up her own.
‘I can’t say that I really noticed,’ sniffed Marnie. ‘I go more for the dark, slim, short-haired-type myself.’
‘I heard him asking about you up at the manor house,’ said Ruby with a smile stapled to those thin lips of hers.
‘Oh? Can’t think why. Maybe he’s just nosey.’
‘Expressing an interest, possibly?’ Ruby began to run her hand around the rim of her glass until it made a really annoying sound.
‘It’s not reciprocated, in case you’re asking,’ Marnie mirrored the fake smile. ‘I’m not interested in men.’
‘Oh, you’re gay?’ Ruby’s relief was obvious.
‘No, not gay, just not interested. Especially not in a handsome man who would probably be more in love with himself than he ever would with me.’
Marnie didn’t mean to say that. She suspected Ruby Sweetman was the sort of person who would store such a slip of the tongue for later use. She tried to rectify the situation immediately.
‘I mean . . . not every man as good looking as him will be an arse . . .’ She was aware she could be making things worse. ‘I’m sure he’s great but . . . I wouldn’t be his type anyway, even if I wanted a man, which I don’t . . .’ She was digging herself a hole and she’d need a sixty-foot ladder to get out of it if she didn’t shut up. ‘Are you and him . . . an item? I thought you looked . . . er . . . nice together at the May Day event.’
‘Really?’ Ruby looked delighted by that.
‘Yes, when he was putting the crown on your head. He looked at you quite . . . quite . . . er . . . tenderly.’
‘We’re very good friends,’ said Ruby with emphasis, smile not stapled on now; rather it was adhering to her lips with the glue of joy. ‘He’s my best friend, in fact. We’re keeping it platonic, though. For now. He moved here after his marriage broke down. His bitch of a wife left him for his best friend so he needs time to heal before he starts another relationship. Early days.’
‘Yes, you could understand him wanting some cooling-down time after that sort of betrayal,’ nodded Marnie. ‘How long has he lived here then?’