Valent’s plans for a runway. Joey had already told Etta they were on Valent’s yacht in the Caribbean. Seth Bainton and Corinna had been asked but hadn’t bothered to reply.
‘Damn rude,’ said Ione Travis-Lock.
Etta would have been terribly nervous if Woody and Joey hadn’t been invited and Dora hadn’t said they’d look after her. Wicked as her word, Trixie had found Etta a sassy black taffeta dress, tight-fitting and with frills at the neck, and then lied that she’d bought it for a tenner from a charity shop.
‘I forgot to get one,’ Trixie replied airily when an unbelieving Romy demanded to see the bill.
Trixie, in league with Dora, also gave Etta a soft grey eye-shadow, a glittering pink lipstick called Purr and a beautiful floral scent called For Her, and persuaded Etta to have her hair cut and highlighted by Janice, the wife of Jase the farrier, who worked part-time in the village shop.
The result was gratifying. As it was pouring with rain, Woody gave Etta and Dora a lift in his white van which said ‘Stump Grinding Assessment’ on the side.
‘You look awesome, Etta,’ said Dora in amazement, ‘and that is a cool dress. And as you’re going to an even cooler house, Mrs T-L doesn’t believe in central heating, you’d better bring a shawl.’
‘You look great,’ agreed Woody. ‘Like a film star.’
‘You mustn’t get your lovely new hair wet,’ added Dora, nearly spiking out Etta’s eye with a red umbrella.
On the way they stopped at Ivy Cottage to pick up Joyce Painswick, resplendent in a crimson tent, who had become a firm friend after she and Etta shared macaroni cheese, watched Midsomer Murders together and admired endless photographs of Hengist Brett-Taylor.
It took quite a lot of tugging to get Painswick into the cab of Woody’s van.
‘Good thing you and I and particularly Woody have small bottoms,’ whispered Dora.
As they splashed and jolted up the narrow lane that was pitted with craters by the endless rebuilding of Badger’s Court, Woody said, ‘Mrs T-L will bawl us out for not walking.’
‘She can’t, we’re lift-sharing,’ said Dora, adding dramatically, ‘and I must warn you all not to think you’ve strayed into I’m A Celebrity when you go into the downstairs loo and find billions of worms heaving in a dark vat. This is Mrs T-L’s wormery, which devours household waste and turns it into liquid fertilizer.’
Among the parked cars they saw Joey’s filthy van, with ‘I wish my wife was as dirty as this’ written on the side.
‘Mop Idol’s not dirty,’ protested Dora. ‘Poor thing cleans for Mrs T-L and according to Joey has to brush and wash up everything because Mrs T-L thinks Dysons and dishwashers and tumble dryers use too much energy.’
Inside, the party was well under way. Joey and Chris from the Fox were in the kitchen tarting up sweet cider with dark ale and spices in vast saucepans. Mop Idol, comely and slim despite four children, was having her bottom pinched as she took round big jugs of the stuff.
Dora was soon handing round lentil bake.
‘That’s Toby and Phoebe Weatherall from Wild Rose Cottage,’ she hissed, pointing out a chinless pink-and-white-faced young man in a dark suit and a very pretty girl looking the picture of innocence in a tartan gym tunic with a white collar and with her long mousy hair held back by an Alice band.
‘Toby’s pushing round the drink because he’s Mrs T-L’s nephew and they’ve been invited to kitchen sups later,’ went on Dora. ‘They’ve only been married a year and are still unpacking their wedding presents. Everyone thinks they’re an awfully sweet couple because they’re younger than anyone in the village except children, so they’re asked everywhere. Toby works for your daughter, Carrie. Phoebe’s a terrible freeloader. Freebie, I call her.’
Alban Travis-Lock, in a decrepit dark blue smoking jacket and no tie (which wrong-footed most of the men, who’d been made to wear ties by their wives), had surreptitiously kept whisky, which could be mistaken for mulled cider, aside for Toby and Alan, his drinking chums at the Fox.
As Woody was promptly hijacked by Ione to put more logs on the fire and Painswick, in her role of junior church flower arranger, to hand round courgette and butternut squash tart, Etta was abandoned in a yelling throng, all looking round for Bonny and Valent.
Willowwood Hall, long and low-beamed with narrow windows, had many small downstairs rooms in which to play Hunt the Hostess.
The walls were covered with landscapes needing a clean and