“Gillian might seem fierce,” Bridget added, “but she’s a pussycat really, once you get to know her.”
“I’m not sure I want to get to know her, though having her living at the bottom of my drive and stabling her horse, I expect avoiding her will be unavoidable. Are you friends with her, then?”
“Oldest and dearest,” Bridget replied, taking a sip of coffee. “We’ve been friends since she moved to the village about thirty-five years ago. Which brings me to a favour I need to ask.” She worried her lip, then said, “It’s just that the flower show—”
“Don’t tell me you want my bottom field too?”
“Your great hall, actually,” Bridget replied sheepishly. “I’m assuming I’m not the first to ask for a favour today.”
“No. Do you organise it then?”
“Gillian does. I just help her with her events between my part-time job as parish clerk. She keeps me busy.”
Viola immediately imagined Bridget to be some kind of dogsbody to Gillian and felt a flush of sympathy for her.
“Do you not have a husband or partner?”
“No. I’m a widow.” Bridget sighed. “Have been for a long time.”
Viola flashed her a sympathetic smile. “Well, I’m sure Gillian couldn’t do any of it without you, but you can tell Gillian that if she wants my hall, she can ask me herself.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Bridget replied quickly, her mouth twitching as if trying to contain a smile.
“Does she organise everything around here?”
“Pretty much, except the classic car show.”
“Ah yes, that would be the major’s domain. He asked me to open it.”
“Oh, really?” Bridget said, her eyes widening.
Viola raised an eyebrow. “You seem surprised?”
“It’s just Gillian does that every year. She’ll be furious,” Bridget said, her mouth twitching again.
That would be one benefit of opening the car show. Not that Viola wanted to. She wanted to be left alone.
“There’s also the annual manor summer ball,” Bridget continued, “if that is still going ahead, of course. It’s the event of the year, and that would be your job now, not Gillian’s.”
“My job? As what?Lady of the manor?” Viola said, her mouth quirking up at one corner. “I assume that’s held in my great hall too.”
“Err… yes.”
“Is there no other place this ball could be held?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the manor summer ball without the manor.”
“That’s kind of what I was aiming for.” Viola smirked, playfully narrowing her eyes.
Bridget giggled. “Oh, yes. I see. Unfortunately, nowhere in the village is big enough. There’s also the summer fete and the harvest festival. The manor is —wasthe centre of everything in Kingsford. The village hall has always been a bit inadequate for Gillian’s events, and she’s always been more than happy to hold them in the great hall.”
I bet she has. No doubt to ensure she controls everything, Viola thought to herself.
“She has —hadexcellent caterers, and her cook was an exquisite baker,” Bridget continued.
“I could use a cook and housekeeper. I don’t suppose Gillian’s would be interested in returning, assuming they haven’t gone with her?”
Bridget reached for her handbag and extracted a pencil and a piece of paper. “No, she didn’t take any staff. I can give you the cook’s number; she was also the housekeeper.”