without waiting to hear from Tommy.
While Daisy mused, they had strolled back along Gayton Road and Well Walk. When they reached the garden, Nana was released from her lead and the twins from the pushchair. Naturally they all headed straight for the fountain in the middle. A quarter of an hour later, Daisy cravenly let the nurserymaid take the damp twins upstairs to face Mrs. Gilpin’s wrath.
“Tell her it’s my fault, Bertha. It’s such a warm afternoon, they can’t possibly come to any harm.”
She took Nana round to the alley at the side of the house and let her through the gate into the garden. The dog would soon dry off there. She was good about staying out of flower beds and not digging, though the thrice-weekly gardener had had to fence off the vegetable plot to keep her from eating his prized tomatoes as soon as they ripened.
As Daisy entered the house, her thoughts returned to Edgar’s heir. Edgar, she was sure, wouldn’t care who it was as long as he was left in peace to pursue his lepidoptera. Geraldine would fuss whoever it was, but probably wouldn’t make a great to-do about it unless he and his family chose to take up residence at Fairacres. Would he be legally entitled to move in? Another question for Tommy.
The one who was absolutely certain to cut up rough, no matter what the result, was the dowager viscountess. Daisy sighed. A hotelier or a freighter’s officer—it made no odds. Her mother would find something to complain about if the angel Gabriel himself came down to Worcestershire to take over Fairacres.
SIX
The following morning, Miss Watt rang up to ask if it would be convenient for Mr. Pearson to drop in that afternoon after calling on a client in Highgate.
“Yes, certainly,” Daisy assured her. “Do make sure he brings Mrs. Samuel Dalrymple’s letter, will you, please, Miss Watt?”
“I’ll remind him that you’d like to see the original, Mrs. Dalrymple. In fact, I’ll slip it into his despatch case, so that he can’t possibly forget it.” Her tone was conspiratorial.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Daisy felt she had gained an ally—not against Tommy, exactly, but against the sort of footling obstacles men tend to raise against any mild unorthodoxy when proposed by a female.
If some professional nicety made him reluctant to show her Martha’s letter, the secretary’s ploy made it difficult for him to claim to have accidentally left it at the office.
No sooner had Daisy hung the receiver on its hook than she remembered Sakari Prasad was coming to tea. She nearly rang back, but there was no knowing when Tommy’s busy schedule would allow him to save her the trouble of going to Lincoln’s Inn. Besides, Sakari was a close friend who wouldn’t take offence if Daisy deserted her for a few minutes to speak to Tommy.
An inveterate attender of lectures and classes, Sakari had written an essay encouraging others to do likewise. She wanted Daisy’s opinion as to whether it was worth submitting to Time and Tide, the liberal, feminist, literary magazine.
Comfortably settled in the small sitting room at the back of the house, Daisy read the article while Sakari poured tea and started to make inroads into the supply of watercress sandwiches, three kinds of biscuits, and a sponge filled with whipped cream and strawberries. Mrs. Dobson thoroughly approved of Sakari, who appreciated good food. Saris—such as the gold-embroidered scarlet she was wearing—were forgiving as to fit, Sakari said, so she had no inhibitions when it came to her waistline. Besides, her chauffeur, Kesin, had become a welcome visitor in the kitchen.
Sakari’s article, with a subject that could have been as dry as dust, was delightful. Daisy should have known that her friend’s forthright sense of humour would shine through. She found herself chuckling, and a most unladylike snort escaped her just as she took a sip of tea.
“Oh dear, I’ve sprayed the page. I’ll type the whole
While Daisy mused, they had strolled back along Gayton Road and Well Walk. When they reached the garden, Nana was released from her lead and the twins from the pushchair. Naturally they all headed straight for the fountain in the middle. A quarter of an hour later, Daisy cravenly let the nurserymaid take the damp twins upstairs to face Mrs. Gilpin’s wrath.
“Tell her it’s my fault, Bertha. It’s such a warm afternoon, they can’t possibly come to any harm.”
She took Nana round to the alley at the side of the house and let her through the gate into the garden. The dog would soon dry off there. She was good about staying out of flower beds and not digging, though the thrice-weekly gardener had had to fence off the vegetable plot to keep her from eating his prized tomatoes as soon as they ripened.
As Daisy entered the house, her thoughts returned to Edgar’s heir. Edgar, she was sure, wouldn’t care who it was as long as he was left in peace to pursue his lepidoptera. Geraldine would fuss whoever it was, but probably wouldn’t make a great to-do about it unless he and his family chose to take up residence at Fairacres. Would he be legally entitled to move in? Another question for Tommy.
The one who was absolutely certain to cut up rough, no matter what the result, was the dowager viscountess. Daisy sighed. A hotelier or a freighter’s officer—it made no odds. Her mother would find something to complain about if the angel Gabriel himself came down to Worcestershire to take over Fairacres.
SIX
The following morning, Miss Watt rang up to ask if it would be convenient for Mr. Pearson to drop in that afternoon after calling on a client in Highgate.
“Yes, certainly,” Daisy assured her. “Do make sure he brings Mrs. Samuel Dalrymple’s letter, will you, please, Miss Watt?”
“I’ll remind him that you’d like to see the original, Mrs. Dalrymple. In fact, I’ll slip it into his despatch case, so that he can’t possibly forget it.” Her tone was conspiratorial.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Daisy felt she had gained an ally—not against Tommy, exactly, but against the sort of footling obstacles men tend to raise against any mild unorthodoxy when proposed by a female.
If some professional nicety made him reluctant to show her Martha’s letter, the secretary’s ploy made it difficult for him to claim to have accidentally left it at the office.
No sooner had Daisy hung the receiver on its hook than she remembered Sakari Prasad was coming to tea. She nearly rang back, but there was no knowing when Tommy’s busy schedule would allow him to save her the trouble of going to Lincoln’s Inn. Besides, Sakari was a close friend who wouldn’t take offence if Daisy deserted her for a few minutes to speak to Tommy.
An inveterate attender of lectures and classes, Sakari had written an essay encouraging others to do likewise. She wanted Daisy’s opinion as to whether it was worth submitting to Time and Tide, the liberal, feminist, literary magazine.
Comfortably settled in the small sitting room at the back of the house, Daisy read the article while Sakari poured tea and started to make inroads into the supply of watercress sandwiches, three kinds of biscuits, and a sponge filled with whipped cream and strawberries. Mrs. Dobson thoroughly approved of Sakari, who appreciated good food. Saris—such as the gold-embroidered scarlet she was wearing—were forgiving as to fit, Sakari said, so she had no inhibitions when it came to her waistline. Besides, her chauffeur, Kesin, had become a welcome visitor in the kitchen.
Sakari’s article, with a subject that could have been as dry as dust, was delightful. Daisy should have known that her friend’s forthright sense of humour would shine through. She found herself chuckling, and a most unladylike snort escaped her just as she took a sip of tea.
“Oh dear, I’ve sprayed the page. I’ll type the whole
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