Perfectly Correct Read online

  ‘Secure?’ Louise asked helplessly.

  ‘All bolted up?’

  ‘Oh yes, Mr Miles came down and tied a hurdle on the gap.’

  ‘Tied? That won’t do. You need a chain and a padlock.’

  ‘Mr Miles says they’ll be going past. They’re on their way to his farm. He’s rented them a field.’

  There was a stunned silence. ‘I assume this is not some kind of a joke,’ the Captain said icily.

  ‘No, no,’ Louise said. ‘He just told me.’

  ‘Is he still with you?’

  ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘I’ll be up there at once,’ the Captain said and the phone suddenly clicked off.

  In the van Andrew Miles was sitting on Rose’s bed. She was perched like a bright flighty hummingbird beside him. Today she was wrapped in a purple silk kimono, with a broad sash at the waist of pink shot silk scarves.

  ‘Forgot your gear box,’ Andrew said. ‘Do it soon.’

  ‘No hurry,’ she said pleasantly.

  He smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘Thought not. Will you move on in June?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve come home to die,’ she said simply. ‘I’ve got a month at the most.’

  Andrew chuckled. ‘You said that at Bluestone Farm three years ago,’ he reminded her. ‘They let you stay all summer and gave you all the cracked eggs. D’you remember? You ate like a lord. They kept hoping you’d get salmonella but you were still there in October.’

  ‘Oh aye,’ she said. ‘Laugh at an old woman. But you’ll burn my van and my things, won’t you, lad? When I go?’

  ‘When you go I will,’ he promised. ‘But I don’t reckon it’ll be this month.’

  ‘Pretty girl,’ Rose remarked, nodding at the cottage.

  Andrew looked surprised. ‘She’s hardly a girl,’ he said. ‘Miss Case.’

  The old woman shook her head. ‘You’ve not looked,’ she said positively. ‘Under the lah-di-dah and the books and the big head. She’s a pretty girl. Do nicely for you, get you the cottage back and all. Your dad always regretted selling it.’

  Andrew shook his head, smiling. ‘Tell my fortune?’ he suggested mockingly. ‘Will I marry a rich girl? How many babies?’

  ‘Time you were wed,’ the old woman said determinedly. ‘Your liver can’t stand you being a bachelor much longer. And that’s the very girl for you.’

  ‘She’s got a man of her own,’ Andrew objected. ‘And a job at the university.’

  Rose screwed up her wrinkled face in disgust. ‘He’s a nothing! Hardly a man at all. And he does nothing for her, you take my word for it. And that job of hers is a bit of nothing too. What she needs is a good man and a couple of chavies. Then you’ll see.’

  ‘How d’you know he does nothing for her?’ Andrew asked curiously. ‘Have you been eavesdropping?’

  ‘I know what I know,’ Rose said, retreating rapidly into sibylline wisdom.

  ‘If you’ve been hanging around under the windows listening, or opening letters, or spying, you’ll get into real trouble,’ Andrew cautioned her. ‘I won’t help you stay here if you’re pestering Miss Case.’

  ‘Miss Case! Miss Case!’ the old woman jeered. ‘Her name’s Louise, and if you had any sense you’d take her up to the farm into the big bedroom and start as you mean to go on.’

  Andrew flushed a deep brick red. ‘That’s enough,’ he said. He stood up but kept his head stooped to allow for the low roof of the van. The van rocked like a ship at sea when he moved to the door and stepped into his Wellington boots. The dog sat up and sniffed cautiously at his boots and trousers.

  ‘Don’t you like the look of her then?’ the old woman demanded tauntingly from the interior. ‘She’s got a pair of cream pyjamas in pure silk, and a long silky dressing gown to match. And every night she’s alone in that big bed of hers with nothing but a book to keep her warm.’

  Andrew patted the dog and then straightened up. ‘She’d never look twice at me,’ he said very quietly. ‘She pays me as an odd job man. She’d never look twice at me.’

  ‘She’s burning up for you,’ the old woman alleged. ‘I hear her at night, all on her own. She cries into her pillow for sheer loneliness. In her silk pyjamas, in that big bed.’

  Andrew stared at Rose like a puzzled large animal. ‘Well, that isn’t right,’ he said fairly. ‘A pretty girl like that, crying herself to sleep.’

  Rose nodded. ‘Throwing her young years away on her books and that feeble bloke,’ she reminded him.

  Andrew shook his head again as if someone had told him of a new and wasteful farming practice. ‘That’s not right,’ he repeated. ‘Not right at all.’

  Rose gleamed at him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘She needs a man to give her babies, before it’s too late for her.’

  Andrew nodded. ‘Yes, I can see that she’d need that.’

  ‘And someone to love her,’ Rose said, her voice a seductive spellbinding whisper. ‘A man to take her to bed and see her right, keep her warm at nights and make her laugh. It’s not right that she’s stuck with that girl’s blouse Toby Summers.’

  Andrew hitched his trousers and glanced towards the house. ‘She could surely do better than him,’ he said fairly.

  ‘She could do no better than you,’ Rose stated. ‘And I’ve told her so as well.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She smiled,’ the old woman said mendaciously. ‘She smiled and blushed.’

  ‘Oh,’ Andrew said. ‘Really?’

  ‘Blushed like a little rose.’

  Andrew Miles walked thoughtfully up the orchard through the garden gate to his Land-Rover parked in the drive. An old but shiny Rover was parked behind him, blocking him in. Captain Frome got out.

  Andrew gave a small grunt of annoyance and straightened his cap on his head.

  ‘Good day!’ Captain Frome said cheerily. ‘Glad to see you’ve got that hurdle up. Good man! I brought a chain and padlock up for the young lady. We really have to batten down the hatches!’

  Andrew nodded and opened the door of his Land-Rover with a loud creak.

  ‘I’ve heard the most nonsensical rumour,’ Captain Frome went on heartily. Louise and Miriam appeared at the front door; he lifted his hat to them. ‘Heard that you might be thinking of renting a field to some bunch of weirdos. A great convoy of them are headed this way. You wouldn’t give ’em house room, would you?’

  ‘Now who told you that?’ Andrew asked curiously.

  Captain Frome slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Village gossip,’ he said. ‘It’s quicker than jungle drums. I’ve been telling everyone you’re too good a man to get mixed up in that kind of racket.’

  Andrew smiled slowly. ‘Could you move your car, Captain?’ he said gently. ‘I have to get home. Pigs need feeding.’

  ‘Certainly, certainly,’ Captain Frome said. ‘We can’t keep the … er … pigs waiting, can we? But I can tell the neighbourhood watch that you’re not involved?’

  Andrew got into the Land-Rover and slid open the window. ‘You keep them informed,’ he recommended pleasantly. ‘Is Mr James still the chairman?’

  ‘Yes. James, good man, a responsible landlord. He’s promised to close the Olde House down for the day if the convoy comes through.’

  ‘You can ask him when I can come back and drink in his pub,’ Andrew said. ‘It’s been three years last Christmas, and they open all day now on Saturdays. It would suit me.’

  ‘My dear fellow,’ Captain Frome said. ‘I’ll certainly mention it. Especially if you’re … er … holding the line up here. What were you … er … banned for?’

  ‘Patting his wife’s bum,’ Andrew admitted. ‘But I was drunk.’

  ‘Good Lord,’ the Captain said. ‘Well, I see. I see James’s position too, actually …’

  ‘Three years for a quick feel?’ Andrew demanded. ‘That’s got to be wrong.’

  ‘Well, I hardly know,’ the Captain dithered. ‘I mean, a chap’s wife!’

  Andrew