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‘I had a long chat with Thom – that’s his name, Thom Carey – and he can make the stands to order, in any quantity, if you supply the plates.’

‘They’d be perfect in willow-pattern china and, goodness knows, I’m drowning in the stuff now Nile’s put the word out that I want it.’

‘How many stands do you think you’d need?’ Bel asked, practically.

‘At least twenty – I’ll have to sit down and work it out. Ideally I’d like four-tier stands for the Classic Yorkshire and the Fat Rascal High Teas and three-tiered ones for the Light Afternoon.’

‘I think I’m feeling hungry again,’ she said, gazing regretfully at the empty cream cake box. We seemed to have scoffed two cakes each.

‘I’ve got a large egg custard tart, if you’d like a slice?’ I offered. ‘Nell gave me the recipe, so I tried it out.’

‘Oh, yes, I haven’t had custard tart for ages!’ she said, and while we were expanding our figures even more, I gave her all the details of my interview with George Godet. I’d entirely given up trying to keepanysecrets from the Giddingses.

I called Bel’s upcycler to discuss what I needed and the upshot was that I would take lots of plates to his workshop on Sunday morning, so he could start on the order.

I sorted them out and then packed them into my boot, for Nile had decreed (in a series of texts – he hadn’t graced me with his physical presence all day) that I should leave my Beetle at Oldstone Farm onSaturday morning and then he would pick me up and drive me to Upvale in his car.

I was now feeling rather nervous about meeting Emily Rhymer – if she was there; I hadn’t tried ringing first to check. I’d just wing it, and see.

The solicitor was here today at Father’s request (though I admit to having sown the idea in his mind) and he signed the forms giving me lasting power of attorney, so that in the event of his being incapacitated, I could make decisions for him, both financial and otherwise.

In return, I assured him that I had no intention of consigning him to a nursing home, should his physical or mental health deteriorate. Even had I not perceived it to be my duty, there was the advantage that in his own home I could ensure that at all times he received the high standard of care we were paying for.

34

Angel Delights

My drive to Oldstone Farm next morning was accompanied both by the clink of willow-pattern china and by Nile, whose car was right behind mine, until we came to the only straight bit of road, when he took the opportunity to zoom past me. I suppose I had been driving slowly, but then,hehadn’t got a car full of breakable crockery.

When I pulled up next to him his passenger door was open and the engine was still running, so I hopped out of my car and into his, without even going indoors to beg a piece of toast and say hello.

Given that I’d been experimenting with new variations on cake and savoury recipes lately and then eating a lot of the results, this was probably a good move as far as my figure was concerned. Well-stacked was OK, but over-stacked definitely not.

The drive over the undulating moors to Upvale was scenic, especially the last bit, where the road beyond the Standing Stones Motel descended steeply and with two hairpin bends to the village below.

I wondered what kind of young woman would think hiking up there in the dark, with only her dog for company, was a fun idea. Maybe she really was a witch and unafraid of anyone, or anything, she might meet?

We passed one or two isolated houses, but most of the village lined the road that climbed up the other side of the valley, which could be reached by crossing an ancient stone bridge over a small stream.

We parked just before it, by a small pink-gravelled tennis court that made me recall what Sheila had said about her husband and Dr Collins having been tennis partners in their youth, and wonder if it was herethey had played. I found it hard to imagine what my doctor had been like as a teenager!

We crossed the bridge and then walked up the hill until I spotted a big detached house, the only one in sight.

‘There it is,’ I told Nile.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I googled it last night. Anyway, Eleri told me it was called The Parsonage and there’s a sign on the gate,’ I said. ‘Where’s your shop?’

‘Angel Delights is back the way we came, further down from the bridge, but I wanted to see you in first.’

‘You needn’t bother, because if there’s no one home, I’ll come and find you. Otherwise, I’ll see you back at the car.’

‘OK,’ he agreed, and left me to walk up the last steep bit of road to the gate alone. There was no one about, but I still felt that there were eyes watching me behind the windows of the tall stone terraced houses that crowded close to the road on either side.

The Parsonage door had been freshly painted a bright vermilion and the old stone house seemed a bit uncertain about this, as if it was trying to decide whether the colour made it look like mutton dressed as lamb.

I rang a bell and after a long delay, during which time I heard the distant bark of a large dog, the door swung open a fraction to reveal an ancient and wizened face under a lot of silver hair.