The Dead Hand by Judith Cutler

Author:Judith Cutler [Cutler, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-13T16:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

I’m in my Sunday best and a dog that has been chasing ducks comes and shakes itself dry – all over me and over Elias Pritchard, who had been heading towards me with a face like thunder.

‘Dratted creature! No, don’t come wagging your tail at me as if you’ve done something clever: be off with you,’ I shouted. ‘Oh, Elias, look at us! My new dress, too! And your Sunday uniform. What a pair we must look! Drat!’ I dabbed ineffectually with my handkerchief.

Eventually, he reached for his and dried his face.

‘I was hoping I would see you. This is the list of spectacle-wearers – you’ll find most of us are of middle age and above.’

‘Thank you. Mrs Marchbanks wasn’t wearing hers last night, Matthew says.’

‘Her husband disapproved of ladies acting.’

He laughed at the face I pulled. Perhaps now was the moment to take a risk. ‘I’ve just been talking to poor Mrs Tyler; this business has struck her hard, of course. She blames herself for Harry’s wild ways, as any mother would. She says his father was just as bad – did you know he simply walked out of the village one day and was never heard of again? And now this, poor woman.’

‘Have you spoken to her daughter-in-law, too?’ he asked stiffly.

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Unsurprisingly, she didn’t come to church, so I wasn’t sure if I should call in. First, I might not have been welcome. And second – well, what would you have felt if I had done?’

My little challenge seemed to take him aback. ‘I suppose it’s not her fault. She felt his fist often enough. It’s a pity Mr Pounceman’s not well – it would have been a job for the rector really, wouldn’t it?’

‘Of course.’ I sighed. ‘It’s a sad business, isn’t it?’ I looked around. Mrs Briggs was herding the servants as if they hadn’t always made their own way back, sometimes reluctantly, true, but always with great self-discipline. Now it struck me that some were straggling deliberately. I took another risk, nodding in her direction. ‘You’ve met Mrs Briggs; what do you make of her?’

‘She’s pleasant enough, isn’t she? Just a little – on edge, shall I call it? To be honest, I wouldn’t want to be in either of your shoes. You’ve ruled the roost nearly as long as I can remember – you and the rest of the servants have become a team. Yes, you’ve lost staff, but the newcomers seem to have found their place and fitted in. So you want it to stay that way. And she wants to make changes, maybe just to prove a point. Or is there something more than that?’

‘It’s just that … that edge you mentioned. I’m just not sure … Oh dear. What do I do?’

‘What about her references? No, you wouldn’t have considered anyone without good ones. I don’t suppose you’re acquainted with whoever employed her before?’

‘No. It was a countess – yes, Elias, a countess! She lives in a mansion near Blenheim Palace and has a London residence, too.

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