up your weekends. What about Friday afternoons?'
'I shops on Fridays.'
'Wednesday then?'
'Auntie comes up here Wednesdays.'
'Oh, of course. Tuesday any good?'
'I goes to Springbourne Tuesdays, 'cos it's double green shield stamp day at the shop.'
'What's wrong with Monday?'
'The Vicar.'
I was beginning to get desperate. Did Minnie want work or did she not? Heaven alone knew I would be happy to dispense with her services, but having got so far I felt I must soldier on. I changed my tactics.
'Well, Minnie, when
could
you come?'
'Friday afternoon.'
I took a deep breath.
'But I thought you said you went shopping on Friday.'
'Not till six o'clock. It's late night Caxley.'
I controlled a sudden desire to scream the place down.
'Very well then, let's say from two until four on Friday afternoon. Or one-thirty to three-thirty, if that suits you better.'
'Is that harpast one?'
'Yes,' I said weakly. Whoever had had the teaching of Minnie Pringle deserved deep sympathy, but not congratulation.
There was silence as Minnie scratched her head again, and thought it out.
'Well, that's fine and dandy. I'll come up harpast one and do two hours, and go atâwhat time did you say?'
'Harpastâ
half past
three,' I said faintly. 'I shall be back from school soon after that.'
'What about me money then?' She sounded alarmed.
'I shall leave it on the mantelpiece,' I assured her, 'just as I do for Mrs Pringle. Now, come and look at the work.'
I proposed that she took over window-cleaning and the upstairs brasswork, and bath and basins. This meant that she would be out of Mrs Pringle's way, and could not do too much damage.
I showed her where the dusters and cleaning things were kept, and she looked doubtfully at the window-cleaning liquid.
'Ain't you got no meth. and newspaper? It does 'em a treat. Keeps the flies off too.'
I said shortly that this was what I used, and that I disliked the smell of methylated spirits.
'My uncle drinks it,' she said cheerfully. 'Gets real high on it. They picks 'im up regular in Caxley, and it's only on meths!' She sounded proud of her uncle's achievements.
I led the way downstairs.
'You want the grandfather clock done? I could polish up that brass wigger-wagger a treat. And the glass top.'
There was a gleam in her mad blue eye which chilled me.
'Never touch the clock!' I rapped out, in my best schoolmarm voice.
'O.K.' said Minnie, opening the door. 'See you Friday then, if not before.'
I watched her totter on the high heels down the path, still trying to remember where I had seen that skirt before.
'Heaven help us all, Tibby,' I said to the cat, who had wisely absented herself during Minnie's visit. 'Talk about sowing the something-or-other and reaping the whirlwind! I've done just that.'
I felt the need for early bedtime more keenly than ever. Just before I fell asleep, I remembered where I had seen Minnie's skirt before.
It had once been my landing curtain. I must say, it looked better on Minnie than many of her purchases.
Notice of the managers' meeting arrived a few days after Minnie's visit. It was to be held after school as usual, on a Wednesday. There was nothing on the agenda, I observed, about possible closure of the school. Could it be village rumours once again?
The Vicar called at the school on the afternoon following the receipt of our notices. He was in a state of some agitation.
'It's about the managers' meeting. I'm in rather a quandary. My dear wife has inadvertently invited all the sewing ladies that afternoon, so the dining-room will be in use. The table, you know, so convenient for cutting out.'
'Don't worry,' I said. 'We could meet here, if it's easier.'
We usually sit in comfort at the Vicar's mahogany dining-table, under the baleful eye of an ancestor who glares from a massive gilt frame behind the chairman's seat. Sometimes we have met in the drawing-room among the antique glass and the china cabinets.
'And the drawing-room,' went on Mr Partridge,
'I shops on Fridays.'
'Wednesday then?'
'Auntie comes up here Wednesdays.'
'Oh, of course. Tuesday any good?'
'I goes to Springbourne Tuesdays, 'cos it's double green shield stamp day at the shop.'
'What's wrong with Monday?'
'The Vicar.'
I was beginning to get desperate. Did Minnie want work or did she not? Heaven alone knew I would be happy to dispense with her services, but having got so far I felt I must soldier on. I changed my tactics.
'Well, Minnie, when
could
you come?'
'Friday afternoon.'
I took a deep breath.
'But I thought you said you went shopping on Friday.'
'Not till six o'clock. It's late night Caxley.'
I controlled a sudden desire to scream the place down.
'Very well then, let's say from two until four on Friday afternoon. Or one-thirty to three-thirty, if that suits you better.'
'Is that harpast one?'
'Yes,' I said weakly. Whoever had had the teaching of Minnie Pringle deserved deep sympathy, but not congratulation.
There was silence as Minnie scratched her head again, and thought it out.
'Well, that's fine and dandy. I'll come up harpast one and do two hours, and go atâwhat time did you say?'
'Harpastâ
half past
three,' I said faintly. 'I shall be back from school soon after that.'
'What about me money then?' She sounded alarmed.
'I shall leave it on the mantelpiece,' I assured her, 'just as I do for Mrs Pringle. Now, come and look at the work.'
I proposed that she took over window-cleaning and the upstairs brasswork, and bath and basins. This meant that she would be out of Mrs Pringle's way, and could not do too much damage.
I showed her where the dusters and cleaning things were kept, and she looked doubtfully at the window-cleaning liquid.
'Ain't you got no meth. and newspaper? It does 'em a treat. Keeps the flies off too.'
I said shortly that this was what I used, and that I disliked the smell of methylated spirits.
'My uncle drinks it,' she said cheerfully. 'Gets real high on it. They picks 'im up regular in Caxley, and it's only on meths!' She sounded proud of her uncle's achievements.
I led the way downstairs.
'You want the grandfather clock done? I could polish up that brass wigger-wagger a treat. And the glass top.'
There was a gleam in her mad blue eye which chilled me.
'Never touch the clock!' I rapped out, in my best schoolmarm voice.
'O.K.' said Minnie, opening the door. 'See you Friday then, if not before.'
I watched her totter on the high heels down the path, still trying to remember where I had seen that skirt before.
'Heaven help us all, Tibby,' I said to the cat, who had wisely absented herself during Minnie's visit. 'Talk about sowing the something-or-other and reaping the whirlwind! I've done just that.'
I felt the need for early bedtime more keenly than ever. Just before I fell asleep, I remembered where I had seen Minnie's skirt before.
It had once been my landing curtain. I must say, it looked better on Minnie than many of her purchases.
Notice of the managers' meeting arrived a few days after Minnie's visit. It was to be held after school as usual, on a Wednesday. There was nothing on the agenda, I observed, about possible closure of the school. Could it be village rumours once again?
The Vicar called at the school on the afternoon following the receipt of our notices. He was in a state of some agitation.
'It's about the managers' meeting. I'm in rather a quandary. My dear wife has inadvertently invited all the sewing ladies that afternoon, so the dining-room will be in use. The table, you know, so convenient for cutting out.'
'Don't worry,' I said. 'We could meet here, if it's easier.'
We usually sit in comfort at the Vicar's mahogany dining-table, under the baleful eye of an ancestor who glares from a massive gilt frame behind the chairman's seat. Sometimes we have met in the drawing-room among the antique glass and the china cabinets.
'And the drawing-room,' went on Mr Partridge,
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