be in the boxes. But dutifully he began to tug at the ties which held the lid on. Andrew got there before him.
‘It’s feathers!’ he said.
‘It’s a costume!’ said Anthea. Daniel finally got the lid of his box off and looked inside. An owl’s face looked back at him. With slightly shaking fingers, he picked it up. It was a whole hollow head, made out of brown feathers and furry material. There were two big yellow eyes with eyeholes punched in them, and an orange plastic beak. And curled up inside the box was a furry, feathery owl’s body.
‘It’s got wings that you can flap as you walk along,’ said Anthea in a pleased voice. Andrew and Daniel exchanged glances.
‘Do we have to wear them?’ asked Daniel. ‘Couldn’t we just have face paint like last year?’ Anthea looked surprised.
‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘Don’t be so silly. Now, when you’ve finished your breakfast you can go and put them on. We’ve got to leave at eleven.’ She looked from Daniel’s glum face to Andrew, who was staring thoughtfully at his costume. ‘Come on, both of you,’ she exclaimed. ‘Look a bit more cheerful! This parade’s going to be fun! And you’ll both look splendid.’ She glanced at Hannah. ‘Won’t they, Hannah?’
‘Splendid,’ echoed Hannah, in indeterminate tones. Anthea peered suspiciously at her, then started to walk briskly up the stairs.
‘Now hurry up with your breakfast,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘We don’t want to be late for the start of the parade.’
When she had gone round the corner, Daniel turned agonized eyes on Hannah.
‘We can’t wear these!’ he said. ‘We’ll look like complete nerds!’
‘It won’t be so bad,’ said Hannah. ‘No one will know it’s you inside.’
‘They will,’ said Andrew. ‘They’ll know it’s us because Mummy will tell them.’ Hannah started laughing.
‘You’ve got a point there,’ she said. She looked back at Daniel, who was miserably fingering his costume. ‘Look, Daniel,’ she said kindly, ‘put it on when you’ve finished your breakfast, and if it looks too awful, maybe your mother will say you don’t have to wear it.’
‘OK,’ said Daniel. He dropped the box on the floor and gave it a little kick. ‘But I bet she won’t,’ he added gloomily.
Marcus was sitting at the breakfast table, sipping his coffee, utterly oblivious to the arrival of the costumes. He looked as though he was reading the newspapers spread out before him, but in fact his mind was elsewhere. The night before, Leo Francis had popped round to Witherstone’s, ostensibly for a simple goodwill meeting between local solicitor and local estate agent. When the door had closed on Suzy, he had leaned over to Marcus.
‘You’ll be glad to hear,’ he murmured, ‘that the Panning Hall estate has been granted probate, and sold privately at the asking price you suggested.’
‘Ah, good,’ replied Marcus softly, ignoring the nervous thrill that leapt through his chest. ‘And your clients were satisfied with that?’
‘Wholly satisfied,’ Leo said, smirking at Marcus. ‘Living, as they do, in the States, they have very little appreciation of the current state of the British property market. I had warned them that the estate might not fetch a great deal, and I believe they were rather pleased with the amount that they received.’ Marcus paused, and studied his blotter. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to be playing this meeting. Was it done to ask direct questions? Or did the whole conversation have to be carried out as though it were being recorded as evidence against them?
‘And the purchaser?’ he said eventually.
‘The property was bought as an investment,’ said Leo smoothly, ‘by a small private company.’ He smiled at Marcus.
‘Aha,’ said Marcus, nodding wisely. ‘A private company.’ Owned by Leo, obviously. He wondered briefly how it was that Leo had the money to make such a huge purchase. Perhaps he was in partnership with someone. Or perhaps he had amassed a fortune from having pulled similar scams in the past. After all, on this deal alone, he stood to make a good million profit from selling the estate on. Minus the cut of twenty per cent that he would give to Marcus.
Marcus smiled at Leo again.
‘And will this company perhaps be looking to sell the estate fairly soon?’ he said, then wondered if that was too blatant. But Leo grinned even harder.
‘Imminently,’ he said. He paused, and looked out of the window. ‘I understand the market has rallied lately,’ he said distantly.
‘It has been doing better,’ agreed Marcus. ‘Considerably better.’
Now his