The Ullswater Undertaking by Rebecca Tope (read dune .TXT) 📕

‘Bit of a stereotype, then,’ said Ben absently.

‘I’m afraid so. Except that she was linked to the Armitage family, to the extent that one of them wanted to marry her and another one left her a very valuable house. Along with four filing cabinets full of papers. I did tell you about that, didn’t I?’

Ben was spluttering. ‘I think this is what they call l’esprit d’escalier,’ he said. ‘We are literally standing on the doorstep – admittedly not a staircase, but the meaning’s the same.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘What you just said – a vital detail that you almost forgot to mention. How can we find out what was in them? The filing cabinets, I mean.’ He shook his head in a mixture of excitement and frustration.

‘We can’t,’ Simmy said firmly. ‘And we’re not even going to try.’

Chapter Fourteen

Lunch at Beck View was brief to the point of rudeness. Angie was knee-deep in crumpled sheets and Russell had been given the task of replacing all the cloths on the dining-room tables. The dog was lurking in his basket by the Rayburn.

‘There isn’t any lunch per se,’ said Russell. ‘You can dig around for some cheese and there might be a tin of soup somewhere. We had a bit of trouble with a tricky family this morning. It’s put us all at odds with the world and each other.’

‘Bread? There’s got to be bread,’ said Simmy. ‘I need nourishment. You said yourself that I’m eating for two.’

‘Of course there’s bread,’ Angie shouted down from the top of the stairs. ‘There’s all sorts of stuff in the pantry. Help yourself. How’s the baby?’

Simmy went out into the hallway, where she could at least see her mother. ‘He’s fine. Fast asleep. I really hate that seat thing, though. It’s ridiculously heavy and awkward.’

‘Not much choice about that, as I understand it.’ Angie was breathless, her hair disarrayed and her cheeks flushed. ‘Honestly, those people! They didn’t go until after eleven, and all they did was complain. Said the road was too noisy and they couldn’t sleep. I ask you! We hardly get any night-time traffic past here.’

‘Where do they live? Somewhere deadly quiet, I suppose.’

‘That’s what’s so silly. They’re from Swindon, of all places. But apparently it’s a cul-de-sac on a big estate and never gets passing traffic.’

Russell drifted out of the kitchen, holding a somnolent Robin against his chest. ‘I got him out of that seat thing,’ he said proudly. ‘But you’d need a degree in engineering to put him back again. Don’t ever leave me in charge of doing that, will you?’

Simmy laughed. The buckle device on the contraption was indeed mind-boggling. Small plastic shapes had to be fitted together in exact formation before the catch would click into place. With a floppy, sleepy baby, or a rigid screaming one, it was a major exercise to get him into it. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Christopher’s only just got the hang of it.’

‘Does he need a feed?’ asked Russell. ‘Shall I try to wake him up?’

‘Don’t you dare. He should last till about two – I’m going to see if I can get home in time. I appear to just be in the way here today.’

‘Well …’ said Angie, never one to tell a needless lie. ‘As you can see, it is a bit fraught.’

‘You could leave him with us while you pop to the shops or something,’ said Russell hopefully. ‘I’ll amuse him if he wakes up.’

Simmy hesitated. She would like to see Bonnie, but there was no pressing reason to do so. It was a five-minute walk from Beck View, but it involved crossing one busy road and other smaller streets, and the possibility of being knocked down and rendered incapable of returning to her dependent offspring was suddenly terrifying. ‘Better not,’ she said. ‘I do need a bit of shopping but nothing I can get round here. I thought I’d call in on the one in Troutbeck, on the way home. I can park right outside and do it in no time. There’ll be enough fruit and veg and biscuits to keep us going for a bit. We’ve still got one or two bits of meat in the freezer.’

‘Take some mushrooms. We’ve got far too many,’ panted Angie. She had turned back to her large pile of bedsheets, preparing to carry them downstairs.

‘Thanks, I will. Do be careful on the stairs,’ she added. ‘Why don’t you just throw the whole lot down? That’s what you used to do.’

‘I was going to.’ And she plonked the bundle on the top stair and gave it a hearty kick. It stopped halfway down, and she followed it, kicking it again. ‘This is fun,’ she said. ‘I can pretend it’s that awful man’s head.’

Simmy and Russell both laughed. Simmy experienced a surge of optimism for a future containing these two in their role as Robin’s only surviving grandparents. They would make life fun for him, with their cavalier approach to the world and its restrictions. They would show him how to be brave and independent and argumentative. Something that Simmy felt that she herself really was not.

She stayed for half an hour, and then bundled Robin, still fast asleep, back yet again into the despised seat. The familiarity of the road up to Troutbeck made her feel sentimental and nostalgic. So much had changed in the past year, shifting her out of the comfortable single life and detaching her from the almost incredible scenery that had been right outside her door. Such drama was missing from Hartsop and Patterdale, despite the proximity of Ullswater. And the roads up there were even worse. However many times she drove over the Kirkstone Pass, she was intimidated yet again by the sheer insanity of the endless kinks in the road that went on for three miles or so, forcing a total concentration and making any decent speed unthinkable. The walls felt as if they were alive and