Dancing the Charleston Read online

  I set the tea tray with the two rose cups and the nicest of the green cups for me. Mr Benjamin and Aunty didn’t say much, just murmured something about the funeral. Mr Benjamin talked about the hymns, saying he’d helped Lady Somerset choose them.

  ‘Mummy was always very particular, though I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that, Miss Watson! It annoyed her that she couldn’t write the sermon! I kept expecting her to tap on the coffin lid in irritation when the vicar came out with the usual platitudes. Still, at least she was dressed in style. She was extremely pleased with her robe. And no wonder! I’ve a mind to put in an order for one right this minute, just in case I drop down dead tomorrow. I shall follow Lord Baden-Powell’s motto for his little boy scouts. “Be prepared!”’

  Aunty smiled weakly.

  ‘Are you all right, Miss Watson? You look very pale. Am I upsetting you, talking so frivolously? You must forgive me. It’s just my way. I’m truly grieving. Mummy was very dear to me. I loved the old darling, even though she could try the patience of a saint. I know you were fond of her too. Has her death come as a great shock?’ Mr Benjamin asked gently.

  ‘Yes, it has,’ Aunty murmured.

  ‘Especially as …’ ‘Especially as …?’ he repeated.

  ‘As we have to leave the cottage!’ Aunty sobbed, unable to hold back any longer. ‘Oh, Mr Benjamin, what are we going to do?’

  I dashed over and patted her heaving shoulders. She was crying like a child, her mouth square, all attempt at dignity gone.

  ‘Oh good Lord, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset your aunt, Mona. I prattle on so,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘What’s all this talk of leaving the cottage?’

  ‘Mr George says we can’t stay,’ I said.

  ‘Even though your mother promised we could!’ Aunty wailed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Here, dear Miss Watson,’ said Mr Benjamin, offering her his immaculate white handkerchief. ‘Why does George have any say in this?’

  Aunty and I exchanged glances. Was Mr Benjamin playing some kind of game with us? Or was he a bit simple, for all his way with words?

  ‘As Mr George is now in charge of the Somerset estate, he has the right to put us out on the street,’ said Aunty, dabbing at her wet face.

  ‘And he won’t listen to Aunty, and practically accused her of being a liar!’ I said indignantly.

  ‘Then my brother is no gentleman,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘And he’s also been issuing idle threats. He has no power whatsoever to uproot you from your home.’

  ‘Did Lady Somerset put in her will that we can stay in the cottage?’ Aunty gasped.

  ‘Unfortunately not, though I’m sure the intention was there,’ said Mr Benjamin, fiddling with one pearl cufflink. He paused, gazing down at it, and then looked up with a beautiful smile on his face. ‘But my mother’s will said very firmly and clearly that my brother George should not inherit the estate.’

  ‘So she’s left it to young Roland?’ Aunty gasped.

  ‘Rather to everyone’s surprise, she has left it to me – though I view myself as a caretaker for the boy. But as I’m now in charge of the estate, I have the right to decide who lives in this cottage. I promise you it is yours, rent free, for however long you wish to live here.’

  ‘Oh my Lord!’ said Aunty, and started crying all over again.

  ‘I hope you were addressing our father up in heaven! I’m no lord and I’d love you to carry on calling me Mr Benjamin. It sounds far more friendly than Mr Somerset,’ he said. ‘I wonder, could we possibly have that tea now?’

  I turned to finish making it. I heard Mr Benjamin whispering to Aunty, and when I set the tray down before them he was actually patting her hand.

  I poured the tea without spilling a drop, and handed round the cups. I offered a small plate of biscuits too. We kept a few plain digestives for emergencies. We’d had them for months, and they were very stale, but Mr Benjamin bravely swallowed his down.

  ‘You’re a very competent girl for your age, Mona,’ he said. ‘You put my nephews and nieces to shame. As soon as my renovations to the manor are complete, I shall be inviting Barbara’s wild quartet to come and stay. I hope you will come and play with them.’

  ‘That’s too kind of you, Mr Benjamin, but I don’t think it would be quite proper,’ said Aunty. ‘I’m not sure your sister-in-law would like it.’

  ‘Oh, Barbara’s very relaxed about the social niceties, bless her,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘Unlike my other sister-inlaw! I shall issue invitations to George and his family too, but I’m not sure they’ll want to come. George is very angry – and Mary accused me of inducing my mother to change her will. Can you believe it! You know my mother, Miss Watson. She was her own woman right to the end, utterly indomitable.’

  Aunty blew her nose on Mr Benjamin’s handkerchief as delicately as she could. ‘Why do you think your mother made her decision, Mr Benjamin?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, Aunty, it’s obvious – Mr Benjamin is much nicer than Mr George,’ I blurted out.

  ‘Mona! Hold your tongue!’ she said.

  Mr Benjamin laughed. ‘I hope you’re right, Mona! But I rather think it was Mary who upset her own apple cart. Mother once discovered her making lists of all the paintings with a view to getting them valued – they wanted to sell them when George inherited the manor. Imagine! Mother couldn’t bear her – she felt that Mary had got George wrapped round her little finger. She wasn’t too keen on little Cedric and Ada either – she thought them very mealy-mouthed.’

  I giggled, and Aunty shot me a look.

  ‘What’s got into you, Mona? Mind your manners. Giggling like a simpleton when poor Lady Somerset has been buried for less than a week,’ she said sternly. ‘And here’s Mr Benjamin in full mourning clothes.’

  ‘Oh, I’m only dressed like a crow today for the benefit of the lawyers and the family. If I appeared in my normal togs, I dare say Mary would contest the will. She thinks I’m a degenerate, unfit to inherit. I expect she and George will be plotting against me, but Mother took care to make her will watertight. She changed it a month or so before she died, and took me into her confidence. It’s been such a lark this past week, hearing George and Mary making grandiose plans for the future. But as soon as I get back to my London flat I shall be putting my black suit right at the back of the wardrobe. In fact, if the weather stays sunny, I might well wear my new white suit. I have a divine panama hat too. Perhaps you might care to trim it for me, Miss Watson? I fancy silk flowers – maybe a twist of honeysuckle around the brim so I look like a country cottage.’

  ‘With pleasure, Mr Benjamin,’ said Aunty, though she looked a little startled. I wondered if he was teasing her. Surely gentlemen didn’t really have their hats trimmed like that, even in London!

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to put some business your way, though I can’t think of any friends with little children. Your exquisite outfits would be wasted on Barbara’s wild offspring. They’d suit Cedric and Ada to a tee, but I think we’d better not approach Mary just yet.’

  ‘I thought I might see if the big draper’s in Hailbury would consider stocking them,’ Aunty said shyly.

  ‘I should aim a little higher, Miss Watson. Try London! How about Harrods? I think they’d jump at the chance of selling them.’

  ‘You’re too kind, Mr Benjamin,’ she said.

  ‘And of course you will have Mona’s allowance to ease your financial situation a little,’ said Mr Benjamin.

  ‘My allowance?’ I asked.

  ‘I told your aunty about it while you were making this excellent pot of tea. My mother took such a shine to you that she decided to give you a little monetary gift each year,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘Well, I must rush back to the manor and supervise my packing. Mother’s lady’s maid is very sweet, but she has no idea how to fold a shirt, bless her. I shall be able to have a proper valet now, praise the Lord!’

  Aunty stiffened. ‘I don’t quite know how to say this, Mr Benjamin, especially as you’ve been so ex