Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,31
was as usual taking charge of everything in her inarguable manner.
Verity glared at Delia. ‘You wouldn’t know she was in the house, Mrs Vercoe. It’s a joy to me to share in looking after her while Finn is busy working at Merrivale. It’s more comfortable for Mrs Templeton and she’s progressing slowly but steadily.’
‘I’m sure,’ Jean said, jiggling her legs up and down to make the chubby twins chuckle. ‘You’ve always enjoyed having a houseful, haven’t you, Mrs Resterick? Me too, couldn’t stand it for a minute if my place was quiet.’ She too shot darts of contempt at the pursed-mouthed Delia. ‘Some round here wouldn’t put themselves out for others, and some of them pack themselves into the front pews every Sunday. Faith without good deeds isn’t faith at all. They know it; it’s time they took note of it.’
Belle brought over the tray of refreshments. ‘Sam says Merrivale has been completely replastered, the woodwork repaired and the roof is now being re-tiled. I’ve seen for myself the outlook is altogether much lighter now the trees have been thinned out. The stream that runs through the bottom of the garden has been cleared and runs down to Shady Lane again. The gloominess seems all taken away. I’ve also seen Mr Carthewy labouring away and up to his knees and elbows in dirt. He’s given some hard-pressed men the opportunity of earning something extra, and good for him. Finn says that by and by he’ll get his mother to sit by the stream. Good idea, I told him, there’s nothing as soothing as the sound of pure running water. He also says he’s no longer daunted about the prospect of living there again.’
Running a gleaming white dishcloth over the scrap of cafe counter, Mrs Pentecost, short, nimble, thin and bony, in her seventies with long-lashed eyes always ready to smile, chipped in. ‘Rebecca says the little one is thriving. She was pleased as punch when you suggested the family move into Sunny Corner while Merrivale is being worked on. That poor woman would never recover with all manner of bangs and thumps going on around her. She’d have had no privacy, and all that dust would have been very bad for the baby. Rebecca says Mr Greg dotes on her and it amuses Rebecca when he talks to little Eloise as if she can understand him.’
‘Allow me to hold Eloise while you drink your tea, Mrs Resterick,’ Belle offered. Smilingly Dorrie relinquished her charge.
‘Bring the child over here,’ Esther ordered. She was filling in the inventory book of things for sale in the niche. People were used to Esther’s bossiness and only a few took exception to it. ‘I haven’t had a good look at her yet.’
Piqued over the reproving remarks Jean had aimed at her, Delia uttered under her breath, ‘You can bet Guy Carthewy isn’t lashing out all his time and money for nothing. It’s wicked.’ Then she stiffly turned her back and set her feather duster vigorously over a block paperweight. She hummed a tune in an indistinguishable drone to ensure she stayed excluded from the clucky gathering. Delia had three grown-up sons all ‘doing well in the city’ and all ‘far too busy to travel down so far to see Mr Newton and I.’ Thrice a year for a week, in turn, the Newtons visited their sons, and Nanviscoe bathed in the respite.
‘Mmmm, she is a pretty baby.’ Esther nodded approvingly. ‘Such deeply coloured eyes. I would have so loved to have had children, but it wasn’t to be.’
Honoria Sanders breezed in, clouding the air with a heavy tropical perfume and swinging her fox furs. The gold and diamonds on her fingers created prisms and stabs of sparkling light. Pearls circled her neck. ‘I’m delighted I never had any little sprogs, some of us aren’t cut out to be mothers, eh, Esther? But this child is very sweet, bless her heart. Is her mother here? I can see the answer is no. I hope she’s still recovering. Ah, Mrs R, I take it you’re in charge of the tiny mite. Must give you some silver for her. Here’s half a crown.’
‘Thank you for your generosity, Mrs Sanders,’ Dorrie said, grinning, for one couldn’t fail to delight in Honoria’s scintillating company.
Honoria chattered on. ‘Hello, Mrs Newton, I see you’re hiding away in there. Is that because the meeting about the hall didn’t go your and the Rev. Lytton’s way? We all know the vicar’s reason; he’s a