But to their surprise and delight they found a small wash house attached to the cottage and the privy, which was a perfectly functioning lavatory, was next to this.

  ‘That could be a bathroom,’ said Meg. ‘Eventually.’

  ‘If there was a bathroom, this little cottage could be a darling place to stay!’ said Louise. ‘I bet there are chests full of old curtains and things up in the attics of the main house. Families who owned houses like this never threw anything away.’

  ‘Is the family interesting? I know Ambrosine is writing a history of the family and the house. It would be wonderful to have a leaflet to put in all the bedrooms,’ said Meg. ‘We might as well exploit the grand past of Nightingale Woods. They didn’t have anything like that in Justin’s hotel.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, darling. Now, let’s carry on our explorations. It would be wonderful if Nightingale Woods could have enough accommodation to actually be profitable.’ Louise sighed. ‘Come on! I’m hoping that communing with spiders and patches of mildew, damp and anything else old houses can provide will help me decide what to do about those deeds.’

  They found that the space over the old stables could make a neat little flat, there were a few more bedrooms in the house that could be made nice, and they saw a path that Susan said led to the old gamekeeper’s cottage. They decided not to follow the path. They didn’t know how far away the cottage was and they were getting tired.

  As they walked back to the hotel, Louise said, ‘I still don’t know what to do about finding those deeds. I’m not at all sure saying that the safe door just swinging open is quite a good enough reason for us to have delved inside. It’s really another version of “it came off in my hand”.’

  ‘We could do what I suggested and shove it all back in and make sure the safe door is properly closed,’ suggested Meg.

  ‘That would be silly. The right answer will come to me. Now let’s go and see the stables that haven’t been turned into garages. It’s possible a flat like ours could be built over them.’ By the time they got back to the house, they were filthy but convinced they could put up quite a large number of people who didn’t mind roughing it a bit. They were both feeling very positive about it all and discussing paint colours and curtains when they reached the house.

  ‘I need a gin and tonic,’ said Meg. ‘Let’s go and get one. There’s no one in for dinner.’ Then she looked down at herself. ‘Gosh, I’m filthy. I’ll just go and wash. Shall I find ice? Or not bother?’

  ‘Not bother. Although a slice or two of lemon would be nice.’

  Before getting herself clean, Meg went into the kitchen. Susan and her daughter were there, clearing up after tea.

  ‘Why don’t you take the rest of that home,’ said Meg, seeing three-quarters of a Victoria jam sponge on a plate. ‘I’ll make another for tomorrow.’

  ‘We’d get another day out of it,’ said Susan.

  ‘But Dad loves Meg’s sponge cakes,’ said Cherry. ‘Thank you, Meg.’

  Meg smiled. ‘Do take it. You’ve earned it.’

  ‘Then I will,’ said Susan, picking up the plate and putting it in her basket. ‘By the way, young Justin’s just arrived.’

  ‘What?’ All Meg’s contentment vanished.

  Susan nodded. ‘He came in here and said hello and that he was going to the office. Had a slice of cake first, mind.’

  Meg fled from the kitchen and across the hallway like a startled hare to where her mother was standing in front of the office door, her arms outstretched as if forbidding entry to a sacred space.

  Justin, a piece of cake in his hand, was looking confused and angry as he loomed over her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Let me in! I need to get into the safe.’

  ‘You can’t,’ said Louise dramatically.

  ‘Why the hell not?’ demanded Justin.

  ‘What my mother means,’ said Meg, loudly, so Justin would stop unnerving Louise, ‘is that there’s something I need to tell you before you do.’

  Justin turned to her and Meg saw her mother’s posture relax.

  ‘What?’ said Justin, obviously more confused than ever.

  Louise started to speak but Meg put up a hand. ‘Things in there aren’t as you left them.’

  ‘What do you mean? Did the ceiling fall in? Did someone let a bath overflow?’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ said Meg. ‘Mum? Why don’t you get us all some drinks? There’s tonic in the fridge. I’m going to explain everything to Justin.

  Louise moved away from the door and Meg went in, Justin following closely behind.

  Meg spoke quickly, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Justin would start being loud and while she certainly wasn’t afraid of him – absolutely not – she wanted to take the initiative.

  ‘I discovered the door to the safe wasn’t properly closed.’ She saw Justin look shocked and she hurried on. ‘I know we shouldn’t have – I shouldn’t have – but we opened it and looked for the deeds. And found them.’

  ‘You found the deeds?’ Justin said at normal volume but obviously surprised. ‘My father and I both looked exhaustively.’

  ‘I know. But everything was so jumbled up. My mother—’ Too late, Meg forgot to take full responsibility. ‘She sorted everything out and found them tucked under something else.’

  ‘Can you give them to me?’ said Justin.

  ‘Er – no. We closed the door properly after we found the deeds.’

  He made an irritated sound as he turned the dial on the safe, finding the numbers. Then the door opened. ‘Good Lord! It’s tidy!’

  ‘That’s my mother. But I take full responsibility for opening the safe,’ Meg said firmly. ‘Look, the deeds are on the top there,’ she added, spotting them.

  Justin took them out and then opened the envelope. ‘These are the ones.’ He looked up. ‘What did you say happened to the door of the safe?

  At that moment, Louise came in with a tray. She had glasses with gin in them, a dish of lemon slices, a bowl of ice and two bottles of tonic. ‘You’ll have a drink, Justin?’ she said. ‘Meggy and I promised ourselves a gin.’

  ‘I’ll get nibbles,’ said Meg, knowing her mother poured strong drinks.

  She ran through to the kitchen. Susan was just buttoning up her cardigan, ready to go home. ‘Have we got anything I can serve with drinks?’

  ‘There are some broken vol-au-vent cases in the tin,’ Susan replied. ‘Do you want me to stay and help?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Meg automatically. ‘I’ll manage.’

  The top oven in the range was hot and it didn’t take her long to grate cheese and sprinkle it over the cases, cut into suitably sized pieces. A bit of cayenne and the baking tray was in the oven. She drummed her fingers on the table, willing time to pass.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? You seem all of a jitter.’ Susan and Cherry regarded her curiously.

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll explain everything later. Tomorrow!’ said Meg. Why was she so jumpy? Justin didn’t seem that bothered about them opening the safe although she would have to think of some sort of explanation.

  Shortly afterwards she set off with her tray to find that Louise and Justin had gone into the sitting room. Justin had a drink in his hands and was sitting on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him.

  ‘Justin’s staying for supper,’ said Louise as Meg set down her emergency cheese straws and a bowl of olives on a table near him.

  Meg took a restorative gulp of her drink, forgetting how strong her mother made them. ‘How did you get here?’ she said to Justin.

  ‘Someone gave me a lift,’ he said.

  Was it Laura? Meg wondered, putting down her glass, resigned to driving him back again. No, if Laura had been with him, she’d have stayed, no question. But maybe, considering she had been so proprietorial about him when she’d delivered him to the hotel after his accident, Laura could come and collect him?

  ‘Did you come over to look for the deeds?’ asked Louise.

  ‘No,’ said Justin. ‘I came to ask Meg if she could make me a Black Forest gateau for a birthday tomorrow. I could have just telephoned but as I’m asking quite a big favour, I thought it better to do it in person.’

  ‘I haven’t any cherries,’ said Meg, pleased to be able to get out of the task without feeling churlish.

  ‘I thought you might not have. I brought a couple of jars of them. And some kirsch, also some half-decent chocolate. You do make such good cakes,’ he added. ‘I just had a slice of your Victoria sponge.’

  ‘You’re flattering me, so I’ll say yes,’ she said bluntly, and sensed her mother’s look of disapproval. ‘But I’d make better cakes – or at least I’d make a Black Forest quicker if I had a mixer.’

  ‘You haven’t got an electric mixer here?’ Justin frowned.

  ‘A wooden spoon and a balloon whisk only,’ said Meg.

  ‘Very traditional and old-fashioned,’ said Justin. ‘I’ll arrange for a mixer to be delivered.’ He gave a reluctant laugh. ‘I know my hotel is better, and yours is stuck in the nineteenth century, when Mrs Beeton ruled with the only cookery book anyone had, but you do need a stand mixer. We have a couple spare.’

  Meg tried to stop herself smiling back. ‘Good.’

  ‘And I’ll tell the client they can’t have a Black Forest gateau,’ said Justin. ‘I couldn’t get the mixer to you in time.’

  ‘No, don’t cancel it,’ said Meg. ‘I’ll make one by hand.’

  Justin considered this. ‘You could come up to my kitchen and use my equipment. It would save transporting a fragile cake in the back of a car.’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea, darling,’ said Louise, who was halfway through her drink and obviously feeling far more relaxed. ‘No one is coming until teatime tomorrow.’

  ‘No, thank you. I can do other things in between processes if I make it here,’ said Meg quickly. Then she tried to think of a process that gave her time to do anything. ‘While it’s cooking,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘Do come and make it up at the hotel,’ said Justin.

  Something about the way he said it implied that Nightingale Woods was not a place for professional cooking. ‘No, really. I’ll be fine doing it here, thank you,’ she said stiffly.

  She picked up her glass and took another gulp. ‘Have a bit of broken vol au vent,’ she said to Justin, offering the plate.

  ‘Delicious,’ he said. Meg could feel him studying her as he ate it.

  She took a bit herself before passing the plate to her mother. ‘Right!’ said Louise a few moments later, getting to her feet. ‘I’m going to make omelettes for our supper.’

  ‘I thought it was Meg who made such good ones,’ said Justin.

  ‘She does make excellent omelettes,’ said Louise. ‘But I taught her how.’

  Neither Meg nor Justin spoke for several minutes. She refused to make polite conversation just because her mother had put her in this awkward position and Justin obviously didn’t feel the need to make polite anything.

  Meg broke first. ‘Will you take the deeds to your father?’

  ‘Yes. The sooner this estate is sorted out the better. Everyone needs to get on with their lives and they can’t when they don’t know if they’ll have money to do it or not.’

  ‘You mean your father and his brother?’

  Justin nodded. ‘My uncle has – things – he needs to settle.’

  ‘By “things”, do you mean debts?’ asked Meg.

  Justin laughed ruefully. ‘Yes. It was very indiscreet of me to say that.’

  ‘But your grandfather will have left things equally between his two sons, surely?’

  Justin shrugged. ‘I didn’t know him well but he was fairly eccentric. If he didn’t want the hotel sold, he might easily have willed the hotel to my father, and any leftover cash to Colin.’

  ‘Would that be an equal way to divide the money?

  ‘No, and Uncle Colin would feel very bitter about it. So I must get the deeds to my dad as soon as possible. I’m still out of action anyway, so it’s a good time for me to go to France.’

  ‘Let my mother go instead,’ said Meg, surprising herself. She had no idea where that thought had come from but now it had, she knew it was right. ‘She’d love to see your father and you’re busier than she is.’

  ‘Are you pushing her and my father together?’ Justin sounded suspicious.

  ‘No,’ said Meg. ‘We both know they are together already. It would give my mother a chance to see him, and him her. Imagine how lovely it would be for them in France, in early summer.’ Then she realised it was possible that Justin had no imagination.

  ‘That’s a ridiculous idea,’ he said dismissively. ‘You couldn’t do all the cooking and the office work – even in a hotel as quiet as this one.’

  ‘Of course I could!’ said Meg, who hated to be told she couldn’t do things.

  Justin sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’m as keen as you are about your mother and my father getting together.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My father has been chased by women before. It hasn’t turned out well for him.’

  ‘My mother does not “chase” men, as you so delicately put it. They are mutually attracted to each other.’

  ‘And would Louise be so attracted if my father didn’t come with a very nice country house attached?’

  Meg was clenching her teeth now. ‘I know you can’t help being rude, it seems to be your predominant characteristic, but considering you hardly know my mother at all, that is an outrageous thing to say – to suggest! Anyway, depending on your grandfather’s will, the country house may not be attached as firmly as all that.’

  Justin laughed, startling Meg. ‘You’re absolutely right. And if Dad and Louise still love each other if and when Nightingale Woods has to be sold, I’ll give their union my blessing.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s up to you to bless it or not!’ Meg was indignant.

  ‘You seem to have given it your blessing. Why is it different for me?’

  It was Meg’s turn to sigh. ‘It’s just been the two of us for as long as I can remember, and we both feel protective of each other. My mother is entitled to love, to security, and not to be lonely. I’ve wanted that for her for a long time.’ She didn’t add that every penny she could spare she saved, gathering together enough money for somewhere her mother could live that was theirs.

  ‘Would you like another drink?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, starting to get up.

  Meg was quicker. ‘I insist. I’ll just get some more tonic.’ She left the room as quickly as she could without running.

  Her mother had lit the fire in the drawing room and laid two places at a table drawn up near the fire. ‘I thought it was a bit bleak, and having a fire in the summer always seems a bit decadent and so special.’

  ‘Why only two places, Mum?’ said Meg pointedly. ‘You’re not abandoning me now!’

  ‘I just thought Justin would prefer to have you on his own.’

  ‘For one, you’re quite wrong, and for another, I don’t care! I’m getting us more drinks.’

  Justin was in the sitting room, by the fire, with a large gin and tonic by the time Meg came down from delivering supper to Ambrosine. There was always a bit of chat involved and Justin’s presence downstairs involved a bit of teasing and some raised eyebrows about his intentions.

  She was relieved to see that her mother had laid a place for herself at the table.

  ‘Come and join me,’ said Justin. ‘I must say, this room is quite cosy.’

  ‘It has class,’ said Meg, accepting the drink, deciding that how Justin was going to get back to his hotel wasn’t her problem. ‘And so appeals to the more discerning guest who wants to stay somewhere that feels like it’s a stately home.’

  Justin laughed. ‘You’re wasted in the kitchen. You should be writing advertisements.’

  ‘Have you thought any more about letting Mum go to France with the deeds?’

  ‘After one and a half stiff drinks I think I can agree to that.’

  He smiled at her, genuinely. It was like the sun coming out from behind a storm cloud, Meg felt. Then she pressed on. ‘While you’re in the mood to grant favours, can we have permission to turn the small single next to the best bedroom into a bathroom? It was the dressing room so there’s already a connecting door. I’d ask Bob – you know? Susan’s husband?’

  ‘I’ve known Bob half my life. Has he given up gardening?’

  ‘Not entirely but he’s recently taken up plumbing. It would make so much difference to us, having even one bedroom with its own bathroom.’ She paused. ‘Although you may not want to have the competition for the hotel where you work.’

  He hung on to his good mood. ‘I’m not afraid of the competition and it shouldn’t cost too much. I’ll say yes.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ said Meg, aware too late that she didn’t need to be grateful. He wasn’t granting her a personal favour; he was allowing a sound bit of investment. ‘There are four principal bedrooms with singles next to them that could be converted.’

  ‘Do them all. Why not?’

  Meg felt the atmosphere between them had changed. Before they had been combative – rivals; or rather, Justin had been the Goliath and she was a little David, doing her best with her five stones and a slingshot. Just now, they were more like allies. She knew better than to think anything had basically changed but it was restful not to have to be on her mettle all the time.

  ‘Omelettes are ready!’ said her mother, coming into the room with plates. ‘Meggy? I’ve found a bottle of wine if you’d like to fetch it, and can you take the potatoes out of the oven?’

  Justin caught Meg’s eye as she put her hand on her glass. ‘I know you don’t like to drive if you’ve had alcohol,’ he said. ‘I can ask Laura to come and collect me. She won’t mind.’

  Although this was the ideal solution for Meg, for some reason her good mood melted. But she smiled firmly. ‘So, when do you want this gateau?’

  ‘Tomorrow evening? Short notice, I know, but it’s what our guests expect. This is a really delicious omelette, Mrs Sanderson.’