Property of a Lady

It felt odd to be putting together a casserole next day, knowing she would be serving it in what Beth would call a grown-up way. Wintry sunlight filtered into the kitchen and some of last night’s shadows dissolved. Nell enjoyed cubing meat and dicing bacon and mushrooms. She tipped all the ingredients into an iron casserole pot, poured in red wine, and added a sprinkling of herbs. The whole lot could go in the oven around three o’clock, where it would happily simmer on a very low heat for four hours, if not five. She would collect freshly-baked bread and cheese and fruit on the way to taking Beth to her party.

She had been determined not to watch the clock like a teenager on a first date, but after she dropped Beth off and got back home, she was very aware of half-past four arriving, and then quarter to five.

Michael arrived just before five, carrying a bottle of wine and apologizing for being a bit late. He had been out to Charect as planned and had got involved in a problem concerning a water tank, he said.

‘The builders wanted to fire up the central heating so they could leave a bit of heating on over the holiday,’ he said. ‘But there was something wrong with the pump and they can’t get a replacement until the second of January. So they’re draining all the water tanks and pipes to stop them freezing. At least, I think that’s what it is – does it sound about right to you?’

‘Yes,’ said Nell. ‘Would you like a cup of tea before making a start on the clues for the ghost?’

‘I’ll start right away, I think,’ said Michael. ‘It’s a pity it’s the depths of winter, isn’t it – it would be easier to do this in daylight. Because I was thinking the likeliest place to find anything is in the workshops, and I should think it’s a bit cold and dark out there in this weather.’

‘It’s not too bad, actually,’ said Nell, reaching for a jacket and woollen scarf. ‘There’s electricity out there, so we’ll be able to see what we’re doing.’

‘I’ve brought a torch,’ said Michael, sounding pleased at having thought of something so practical.

‘Well, that’ll be useful. And it isn’t as cold in there as you might think. There’s a horrible old iron stove, but I’ve never fired it. I had a couple of convector heaters put in.’

Nell was pleased to see that Michael liked the workshop. He prowled around, commenting on the scent of beeswax and oil, asking questions, and admiring a small Indian rosewood desk she had found under a heap of rubble in the Powys house sale and was stripping off several layers of Victorian varnish.

‘Where did you study all this?’

‘I’d like to say I did a Fine Arts degree, but I didn’t,’ said Nell. ‘I got on to a training scheme with one of the big auction houses. Not Christie’s or Sotheby’s, but not far off. A great piece of luck for me. It was quite intensive – a three-year apprenticeship, half working in the showrooms, half in a kind of training school. I do love working with all these old things.’

‘I can tell,’ he said, smiling.

‘I’m trying to think Brooke Crutchley did, as well,’ said Nell. ‘I find it a bit spooky knowing he worked here, and I’m not sure if I like the sound of him very much. But it’s easier if I can think of him enjoying what he did.’

‘I can’t see anything in here to give us any leads to him, can you?’ said Michael, shining the torch over the walls and up into the roof space and the rafters.

‘No.’

‘Is that the old stove? I don’t blame you for not trying to fire it.’

‘I hate it,’ said Nell. ‘It’s like a monstrous black toad crouching in the corner.’

‘I should think it dates back to Brooke’s time,’ said Michael, inspecting the stove, which was cast iron, with small doors at the front and a flue stretching up into the roof.

‘It’s Victorian design at its most florid,’ said Nell. ‘I’m going to have it ripped out when there’s enough money and the vent capped outside.’

‘There’s a door on one side. Here, where the wall is set back a bit. It doesn’t look as if it leads anywhere, but it’s too large to be a cupboard.’

‘It’s not a cupboard. It’s just a kind of alcove for cleaning the flue and raking out cinders and clinkers and things. In the days when they had cinders and clinkers.’