Page 33 of The Stranger in Room Six
‘Did your guests enjoy the dinner party?’ asked Mabel politely.
Clarissa’s lips pursed. ‘That’s none of your business.’
But when she marched out, leaving Mabel alone in the breakfast room, Cook got very cross. ‘No one came! If you ask me, it’s because of the petrol rationing. All that food wasted! It’s a crying shame. The missus wanted me to bury it in the allotment instead of giving it away but that’s because she doesn’t want folk knowing she’s entertaining when others are going hungry. It’s all right for her lot. They don’t know what an empty stomach’s like.’
‘I’ll take it home,’ Frannie said eagerly when Mabel told her.
‘Let me help,’ offered Mabel.
‘You can bring it when you come for tea. Mam says to come this afternoon.’
When she got there, she found a cottage which was small in size but bursting with warmth. ‘These are my brothers, and this is Grace, who’s just turned four.’ A pretty little girl with long hair ran up and danced around her. If Annabel had lived, she might have grown up into a lovely child like this. The thought brought a lump to Mabel’s throat.
‘It’s so nice to be here,’ she said to Frannie’s mother.
‘Ah, thank you. You’re welcome any time. And you’ve brought a whole hock of ham! How very kind.’
Frannie’s father was a large man who relied heavily on his stick, having been injured in the Great War. He sat in a big chair with an antimacassar on the back. They’d had them in London too. Mama had told her they were to soak up the men’s hair oil.
Now, he sat forward in interest. ‘Frannie told me what you said about your aunt’s important visitors. Sounds like they were coming a long way. Did anyone mention a name or say if they were coming again?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Ah, that’s a pity.’
‘Why’s that?’ Mabel asked.
‘Just because then we can have more food if there’s any spare,’ said Frannie’s mother quickly.
‘I’ll let you know if I hear anything.’
‘Thanks love.’
It gave Mabel a nice feeling to know she was doing some good. That’s what the war was all about, wasn’t it? Those who couldn’t fight were at least able to help in the war effort at home.
The following week, Mabel overheard Cook ranting to the groom in the courtyard.
‘Another dinner party when the rest of us are rationing! She says it’s for the one who was meant to come last time, that friend of the Colonel’s. A real lord, apparently,’ Cook sniffed.
Mabel flew down to Frannie’s cottage. Her friend – or ‘the maid’, as Aunt Clarissa kept saying she had to call her – hadn’t come into work that day because of a cold. But this news couldn’t wait!
Excitedly, she banged the front door knocker. Frannie’s mother opened it, wearing her apron.
‘Aunt Clarissa’s got a lord arriving tonight so there might be some spare food tomorrow!’
‘Is that right?’ said Frannie’s mother. ‘Thank you for telling us. I’m afraid you can’t see Frannie. She’s asleep. Poor lamb has got a nasty fever.’
Mabel was beginning to feel rather warm herself. That night, she woke feeling hot and bothered, after a dreadful nightmare in which there’d been lots of shouting. Then she realized there reallywasshouting downstairs. What was happening?
Shivering, she went to the top of the bannisters. Down below she saw a tall man she’d never seen before, being marched to the door, hands tied behind his back with rope. ‘Please,’ he called out. ‘Help me, someone!’
‘You’ve made a mistake,’ shouted the Colonel, running after them. There was a panic in his voice that she’d never heard before.
‘I hope for your sake you’re right, sir,’ said the policeman. ‘You can clear it all up at the station.’
Aunt Clarissa was weeping, her hands over her face. After they left, Mabel flew down the stairs to comfort her.
‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Clarissa. ‘I don’t know what you heard but they’ve made a mistake.’ Then her eyes widened. ‘I need to tidy up the dining room.’
