The Great Betrayal by Pamela Oldfield

Takes a while, but it does work – unless someone opens the bathroom door when a draught might blow out the flames. Can be tricky, but my daughter manages it very well when her husband’s away.’ He put a finger to his lips. ‘Very secret, his work. Something for the government, but I don’t enquire.’
    ‘I see. Right.’
    George laughed. ‘That’s my room –’ he pointed – ‘and that’s where the boy sleeps in the small room next to his mother. The spare room which will be yours is up these few steps . . . Here we are. Now, what do you think? You’ll be very comfortable.’
    The room was sparsely furnished, with a large bed on which sat a pile of folded blankets, sheets and two pillows. There was a washstand with a brown and white jug and bowl, a mahogany wardrobe, a chair and table, and chest of drawers which matched the wardrobe. The floor was mainly covered with small rugs placed strategically on the wood floor. The small fireplace boasted a companion set – iron tongs, poker, dustpan and brush – as well as a brass coal scuttle in need of polish.
    The young man nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s very nice, Mr Meecham. It all rather depends on the price. I do hope we can come to an agreement. I shall be pleased to speak to your daughter about meals and . . . and washing facilities.’ He gave a discreet glance under the bed to the inevitable china pot.
    Seeing this, George said, ‘There is a lavatory on the ground floor.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘There really is no need to consult with my daughter. This is my house, Mr . . . What was it?’
    ‘Phipps. Leonard Phipps.’
    ‘Mr Phipps. You can discuss a price with her, however, because there may be a matter of washing clothes and ironing them, cleaning the room, perhaps. We did a lot for poor Miss Baisley.’ He frowned. ‘If that was her name. I grow forgetful, I’m afraid.’ His frown vanished. ‘We’re a very cheerful family. And you’ll like young Adam and my son Robert.’ He rubbed his hands with satisfaction. ‘I think we shall get along splendidly. Interested in cricket, are you? I used to be a handy all-rounder when I was a young man.’
    As the young man followed him down the stairs and attempted to answer, George interrupted him. ‘You’ve been promoted, I believe, hence the move to this area. What exactly do you do, Mr Phipps?’
    Mr Phipps’ answer came as a pleasant surprise and brought a grin to George’s face.
    By the time Lydia returned with Adam the two men were discussing the government and its perceived failures. Lydia stared at the young man, who jumped to his feet and began to stammer an explanation of his presence there. ‘I have brought a reference,’ he told her and took it from his jacket pocket in readiness.
    Lydia shook her head, unwilling to accept it.
    Adam started to tell him about the shoe shop and his new shoes, which he proudly produced from their box, but Lydia, shocked into silence, now sat down heavily on the sofa and wondered how she could tactfully protest at the arrangement which had been made in her absence.
    ‘My father, I’m sure, had no intention of giving you a firm answer or definitely agreeing to any such plan,’ she managed at last, ‘and you must understand that I shall have to consult with my husband before we can go ahead.’ She turned to her father. ‘You knew you should have waited,’ she told him.
    ‘I only showed him the room,’ he protested. ‘There is no need to take this attitude, Liddy.’
    ‘But you have raised poor Mr Phipps’ hopes, and that is hardly fair.’
    George shrugged his shoulders. ‘I simply said that as far as I am concerned the room is his. That is all. If you, or that husband of yours, veto the idea then that is another matter.’ He leaned down to Adam. ‘What smart shoes your mother has bought for you, but lace-ups? Do you think those small fingers of yours are quite clever enough?’
    Leonard Phipps, by this time red-faced with embarrassment,