‘Oh, OK. Well, when can you and David come to stay down here? Please make it soon!’

  They made their arrangements and ended the call.

  ‘That was Alexandra,’ said Meg to Louise.

  ‘I gathered that, darling. And she’s coming to stay?’

  Meg nodded. ‘With David. Do you remember David?’

  ‘Of course I remember David. He was so kind and helpful with our little dog. Do you want to finish telling me while I check the guest rooms that are booked for tonight?’

  A few minutes later, Louise, deftly flicking a bedspread into place having inspected what was underneath, said, ‘I don’t think I met Alexandra, but you did tell me all about her wedding. She sounds wonderful.’

  Meg watched her mother run her finger over the mirror, checking for dust like a caricature of a housekeeper. ‘You wouldn’t have forgotten if you had met her. She’s beautiful, kind and funny and just a bit eccentric. I must work out a menu for when they are here. David and I loved cooking together. He taught me a lot.’

  ‘When did you say they were coming?’

  ‘This weekend. I hope there’s room!’ Meg suddenly worried that the wonderful reunion with her friends might be spoilt by too many visiting army types and their ladies, who would have to take precedence.

  ‘I’m sure there will be, but we’ve got quite a few bookings for Sunday lunch. They’re people who were at the banquet for the first time and are trying us out for another special meal.’

  Meg smiled. ‘That won’t interfere with anything we might do for David and Alexandra. But I hope the Sunday lunchers will think we’re as good when we’re not serving cold food but a traditional roast.’

  ‘As long as you’ve got really good gravy and crisp potatoes, it’ll be fine.’ Louise checked the washbasin by running her finger over it to make sure there was no trace of limescale which would make it look dull. ‘You’ve always had a knack with gravy. I’ve only ever been able to do the Bisto kind.’

  Meg remembered her mother’s mahogany-coloured gravy, glossy and thick and tasting strongly of salt. It wasn’t good. ‘And Yorkshire pudding,’ said Meg. ‘Everyone loves that.’

  ‘They’ll love it all. We have good meat, maybe some home-grown cabbage or spinach, and the rest will follow.’

  ‘But are they coming for Justin’s cooking, or mine?’ said Meg.

  ‘You did the coronation chicken,’ said her mother, obviously a bit surprised at Meg’s lack of confidence.

  ‘I just don’t want them to be disappointed,’ said Meg.

  ‘Silly girl!’ Louise dismissed Meg’s fears. ‘You did most of it for that lunch, you know you did. Now, what else do we need to do in here?’ she said, looking round the room.

  Meg realised if she wanted her mother’s full attention and proper sympathy for her insecurities, she needed to ask for it when Louise wasn’t inspecting guest bedrooms. She decided to stop worrying about her cooking.

  ‘I’ll just put a couple of flowers in a vase for the dressing table and that’s it.’ Louise gave the room a last critical look.

  ‘You love all this!’ said Meg. ‘Making sure the rooms look pretty and are perfect.’

  Louise nodded. ‘I think I’ve finally found what I want to do when I’m grown up: work in a country hotel. I love the guests, I love getting it right, and I love working with lovely people like Susan and her family.’

  Meg nodded. ‘And I love Bob, their dad. He’s so enjoyed getting the kitchen garden back into order. It was kind of Justin to get him back although it can’t be all that cost-effective.’ Meg was working on having positive feelings towards Justin. In her heart she resented him, swooping in, saving the situation, and swooping out again, while telling her she was just a girl.

  ‘Bob is wonderful, isn’t he? In fact, all of the hotel gardens remind me of The Secret Garden,’ said Louise. ‘I love the idea of it all being asleep—’

  ‘Or just having a doze?’

  ‘—and being woken by a gardener.’

  ‘Although in the book it was Mary and Colin,’ said Meg.

  ‘I know it’s not really like the book,’ said Louise, who obviously felt Meg was splitting hairs, ‘but the idea is the same.’

  ‘I must say it would be wonderful if we can give Alexandra and David asparagus from the garden. There is some nearly ready.’

  ‘As long as we can give it to everyone. Now, if you’re happy here, let’s get to the next room. And then I must check the bathrooms.’ Louise frowned. ‘I do wish we could have another one. It’s rather a long walk down the corridor and there’s that single bedroom …’

  ‘Why don’t you ask Andrew about it the next time he telephones you?’ Meg’s mind was now on new season’s lamb for Alexandra and David, and beef for Sunday lunch, and she wanted an excuse to go and check on what was growing in the vegetable garden. ‘I need to pick some parsley. There’s a nice clump of it next to the greenhouses.’

  Chapter Seven

  It hadn’t occurred to either Louise or Meg that Justin would want to visit the hotel to see how things were going and they were both extremely annoyed that he chose the morning of Alexandra and David’s arrival to do it. Meg was in the kitchen garden gathering herbs and Louise was picking flowers from the cutting section so she could put them in the bedrooms. They both jumped when he found them in the vegetable garden, their hands full. Meg realised that Justin couldn’t have come on his motorbike or she’d have heard his approach.

  ‘Hello!’ he called. ‘Can we go inside and have a chat? I see you’re not busy.’

  ‘I am busy,’ said Meg. ‘I’m picking herbs.’

  ‘So am I,’ said Louise. She held up her handful of flowers. ‘For the bedrooms.’

  Justin sighed. ‘I’ll meet you both in the office. I haven’t got much time.’

  ‘God, he’s irritating. I could quite easily hate him!’ muttered Meg to her mother as they followed him inside, both unable to carry on with their pleasant tasks now he was here.

  ‘Try not to, darling. Andrew thinks the world of him. Although he did say Justin could be difficult.’

  ‘I should cocoa!’ said Meg. Then she straightened her dress, the one deemed ‘a bit short’ when she first arrived in Dorset, and followed her mother into the office.

  ‘You haven’t many bookings, I see,’ said Justin, looking up from the reservations book.

  ‘We’ve a couple coming today who are staying for several days,’ said Louise.

  ‘A Frenchwoman?’

  ‘She’s a countess,’ said Meg.

  ‘She still only sleeps in one bed. Although I see there are two rooms booked.’ He looked at Meg. ‘Does this countess not share a bedroom with her husband?’

  ‘It’s none of your business!’ said Meg indignantly. ‘Anyway, she’s not travelling with her husband.’

  ‘They’re friends of Meg’s,’ said Louise, sounding conciliatory. ‘Very nice people.’

  ‘It makes no difference what they’re like,’ Justin said. ‘If bookings don’t go up, we will have to close down sooner than I thought. We’re not running a hotel for occasional blow-ins for Sunday lunch, one old lady and Meg’s chums.’

  ‘Has Andrew said this to you? About having to close down?’ asked Louise.

  ‘As you know, my father is away. I’m keeping an eye on things for him.’

  ‘We’re aware that we don’t really have enough guests,’ said Meg. ‘But we have plans to improve that.’

  ‘What plans?’ asked Justin.

  Meg’s mouth had gone dry. ‘I’m intending to write them all down and present them to Andrew.’ This was the first she’d heard of these plans, but they sounded a good idea, even if she didn’t yet know what they were.

  ‘Present them to me. By the end of the week at the latest,’ said Justin.

  ‘You can have them when they’re ready!’ said Meg, now regretting her rash statement.

  ‘Which will be by the end of the week,’ said Justin. ‘Now, Louise, can you talk me through the rest of the figures?’

  ‘Of course, Justin!’ said Louise, in a way that made Meg shudder with irritation.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said, and retreated to the kitchen.

  Meg always felt calmer when she was in the kitchen. She felt at home there, and knew what she was doing.

  Unlike many kitchens in large country houses, this one was full of light. The long scrubbed table meant there was plenty of space to work and she enjoyed using the old chopping boards worn down by generations of cooks. She loved putting her hand into the old salt pig and using the storage jars that were full of flour.

  Now, she set about making pastry and, two hours later, she had made some quiches, a tray of little tart cases she planned to fill later, there was a roasting tin of tomatoes filled with peas, a flattened lamb joint that wouldn’t take long to cook, and some scrubbed new potatoes. There was also a saucepan full of sliced vegetables, fresh from the garden, and a large pile of finely chopped parsley. Having this in abundance a few feet away from the kitchen never failed to give Meg a rush of pleasure.

  Meg surveyed her preparations. If all went to plan, it would be wonderful. There was one other couple dining, so she and her mother would join Alexandra and David. Justin had disappeared, presumably having gone back to his usual job, wherever that was. Now she was ready, she allowed herself to get really excited about Alexandra and David’s visit.

  Louise took her up to a spot on the first floor which gave a good view of the entrance to the drive, where people slowed down to turn in.

  ‘You’ve got time to be downstairs at the door, with your breath back, before they get here,’ Louise explained. ‘It’s terribly useful. I like to know who’s ringing the bell before they ring it.’

  ‘I suppose that is nice. I’ve never had the luxury of being able to see people before they arrive before.’

  ‘You get to like it,’ said Louise and they settled in to wait.

  ‘Did Justin say or do anything terrible after I left?’ Meg asked. ‘He didn’t come and say goodbye.’

  ‘No. He went and chatted to Ambrosine, who obviously adores him. He was so different when he talked to her. He wasn’t patronising as so many people are when dealing with older people, he was just funny and kind. Although I’m convinced he thinks I’m a gold digger, after his father for all the wrong reasons, I was impressed by him.’

  ‘If the hotel isn’t making much money, and he made very sure we knew that, you could hardly be a gold digger.’

  ‘But if Nightingale Woods stopped being a hotel, it would be a wonderful house!’

  ‘But it’s the hotel part you love,’ said Meg.

  ‘Oh yes! The people! I don’t think I’d want to live here if it was just a house.’

  ‘Just a house? A small stately home, rather.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ said Louise, offended.

  At last a car turned into the drive. Meg watched it for a few moments, checking it was the one she was waiting for. It was a large estate car and looked French. ‘That’s Alexandra!’ she said gleefully, and galloped down the stairs to meet her.

  Alexandra was out of the car and in Meg’s arms in a blink. They hugged and jumped up and down. David got out more slowly and he and Louise greeted each other, observing with friendly amusement Meg and Alexandra’s delight in seeing each other again.

  They were all still in front of the house when Justin appeared. ‘Good afternoon. Welcome to Nightingale Woods. You must be the Countess,’ he said formally.

  Meg suppressed a scream of surprise. She had been certain he was miles away. Why wasn’t he safely back at his job? What on earth had he been doing all this time?

  Alexandra held out an imperious hand to take his. ‘Yes. I’m an old friend of Meg’s. It’s so nice to be able to visit her here. This is my friend David Campbell.’

  ‘Nice car,’ Justin said, having shaken David’s hand. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A Citroën Safari,’ said Alexandra, although Justin had addressed David. ‘Perfect for large families and antiques dealers.’

  ‘Which category are you?’ asked Justin.

  ‘Both.’ Alexandra smiled, every inch the countess. ‘Although I’m only a part-time antiques dealer these days.’

  Meg was infuriated. It was outrageous, him encroaching on her precious time with Alexandra and David.

  ‘Let me show you to your rooms,’ she said, taking Alexandra’s arm. ‘Maybe Justin could take your bags?’

  The look Justin gave her was both hugely satisfying and terrifying; he was sure to take his revenge. Meg didn’t care. She was so angry with him. And as Alexandra obviously wanted to go into the hotel, they went up the shallow steps and into the hall.

  ‘Isn’t this lovely?’ said Alexandra, looking round the hall with its smart black and white checked floor, antique furniture and welcoming atmosphere. Family portraits and old lithographs of the house decorated the yellow walls, and afternoon sun shone in through the front windows.

  ‘It’s all so pretty and comfortable,’ Alexandra went on. ‘I’ve just been in the London house—’

  ‘Our old home,’ said David, sounding nostalgic.

  ‘Yes,’ Alexandra agreed. ‘And although we all loved it at the time, now it seems desperately gloomy and in need of repair and decoration. I was there to sort out the leaking roof – not personally, obviously – but really, the whole house is a disgrace.’

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ said Justin. ‘I do have other things to do.’

  Meg clamped her teeth on bitter words about why he wasn’t doing them; she didn’t want to spoil Alexandra’s visit.

  She wanted to snatch Alexandra’s overnight bag from his hand but having more or less demanded that he take it upstairs, she couldn’t do that now. ‘I’ll lead the way,’ she said, trusting everyone would follow her.

  Meg had so looked forward to showing Alexandra her room and she knew her mother felt the same. She walked up the stairs feeling angry and disappointed – all the more angry because it was entirely her fault. If she hadn’t wanted to get at Justin he’d have been nowhere near them. Although he was so unpredictable he might have followed them anyway. She was desperate to know what he’d been doing all afternoon.

  She opened the door to their best bedroom. It looked charming, she decided. The faded chintz wallpaper toned well with the cushions and bedspread. The dressing table had a very pretty antique dressing-table set in cut glass that included candlesticks and little vases – now filled with flowers. There was a small sofa near the window, perfect for curling up on with a good view, and a couple of small armchairs made it like a sitting room as well as somewhere to sleep. ‘Here you are!’

  Alexandra went straight to the large window that overlooked the front of the property and the parkland that surrounded it. ‘This is just lovely!’

  ‘This is the best bedroom?’ asked Justin, questioningly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Louise firmly. ‘It has the best view, a very comfortable bed and is near the bathroom.’

  ‘But it’s not a private bathroom?’ Justin went on.

  ‘No,’ said Louise, sounding a bit sharp.

  Justin left the room without saying any more.

  ‘I’m so sorry about the bathroom not being private,’ said Louise. ‘I know they’re starting to come in but there just isn’t the money for putting bathrooms in all the bedrooms.’

  ‘It’s fine!’ said Alexandra. ‘Will I just be sharing a bathroom with David? We’re used to that. It’s a lovely room.’

  Louise couldn’t stop being apologetic. ‘It needs doing up really. The wallpaper is very shabby in places.’

  ‘I think it’s perfect as it is!’ said Alexandra, who had gone back to the window.

  ‘David’s room hasn’t got such a good view,’ said Meg, ‘but it’s still nice.’

  ‘It is,’ said David, coming up behind them. ‘Justin showed me mine. What have you got against the poor man?’

  Meg turned to him. ‘Don’t let’s spoil your arrival by talking about him. And how did you know I don’t like him?’

  David shrugged expressively and then said, ‘This is such a lovely house. Beautiful proportions and perfectly sited for the very best views.’

  ‘Why don’t you and Alexandra get settled in and then come down and have a grand tour?’ suggested Meg.

  ‘We’d love that,’ said David. ‘I can’t wait to see it all. And please, show us all the below-stairs parts. I love seeing the butler’s pantry, the housekeeper’s room and, of course, all the larders and things.’

  ‘We do still have a lot of those rooms,’ said Louise, ‘although I’m glad to say the game larder has been turned into a room to arrange flowers in.’

  Alexandra and David would be very satisfactory people to show Nightingale Woods to, Meg decided. Louise probably felt the same. Meg went back to work, promising to organise tea on the lawn shortly.

  ‘I do love our chateau,’ said Alexandra a little later, when Meg had shown them every inch of Nightingale Woods. ‘It’s in beautiful Provence and it’s home. But it’s not pretty in the way this place is. The rose garden here is going to be glorious! I’d love a proper vegetable garden at the chateau too.’

  ‘What I like best is the area behind the old tennis court. It’s the perfect setting for a play. It’s like a little amphitheatre,’ said David.

  ‘Sadly, it’s a hotel, David, not a theatre,’ said Meg.

  ‘No reason why it couldn’t be both, surely?’ David said. ‘I’ve a friend, an actor turned director, who puts on the Dream in a few special gardens every year. People love it! What can be more lovely than a fine summer night, a beautiful setting and a really romantic bit of Shakespeare?’

  ‘Maybe I could put it on my list of ideas to make the hotel more profitable that I’ve got to make for Justin,’ said Meg. ‘I’ve been struggling to think of things.’

  ‘Why is it down to you?’ asked Alexandra. ‘You don’t even work here officially, do you?’

  Meg sighed. ‘I am on the payroll now and I think I’ve got emotionally involved. It’s to do with Mum, I suppose. She loves Nightingale Woods, and I’m fairly sure she loves Justin’s father, too. He’s the current owner.’