Page 34 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘I chose it,’ Alice said proudly.

‘Well, ma’am,’ said the bicyclist, ‘if you could go on holding his head, I’ll have a look at what’s happened to your trap.’

Alice quite liked being called ‘ma’am’. ‘I can see what’s happened,’ she called, as the man disappeared behind it. ‘The wheel’s gone down the ditch.’

He reappeared, and said, ‘I don’t think anything’s broken. If your friend would be so good as to climb down—’

‘My sister,’ Alice corrected, and Rachel gave her a minatory look.

‘The trap doesn’t look very heavy. I think if I lifted the body a bit, the pony could pull it out.’

That sounded like a good scheme to Alice. ‘Get down, Ray,’ she urged. ‘You’ll have to get down and lighten the load.’

‘Would you permit me to assist you?’ the young man said, coming close. Rachel had been scrambling in and out of the trap unassisted for years, but she looked sweetly helpless as she placed hesitant hands on the young man’s shoulders. He grasped her firmly at the waist – Alice couldn’t see his face from where she was standing, but she knew he looked up at Rachel, and that Rachel blushed – and jumped her neatly down. Rachel was released, and the young man peered into the trap. ‘Anything else that’s heavy?’ he asked, eyeing a large basket.

Alice answered. Rachel was taking care of her blush. ‘Oh, that’s empty now. We took some things to old Mrs Clay in Ashmore Carr – goosefat and soup and some woollens. She has an influenza, poor thing.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll give it a try, shall we? When I say “go”, lead him forward slowly.’

Alice felt a twinge of conscience. ‘I hope your boots won’t be spoiled.’

‘I’m prepared for it,’ he said, muffled by the trap’s body. ‘A cyclist expects to get muddy. Ready now? One, two, three – go!’

It was probably heavier than he had thought, Alice reflected, for she could hear him grunting, but the ditch was not very deep, and he only had to raise the body enough for the rim of the wheel to clear the edge. Biscuit obeyed her voice and her tug and stepped forward, the nearside wheel found purchase and the trap was free. Alice led the pony on a few steps and safely into the middle of the road, and the young man came scrambling out, brushing his hands together. His boots were no longer shiny.

‘All’s well, it seems,’ he said, approaching Rachel again. He doesn’t see me at all, Alice thought. ‘Though if I might presume to advise, it would be as well to have a blacksmith look at the wheel, and make sure there’s no damage.’

Rachel, still in high colour, brought out a sentence she had been practising for minutes. ‘May we know to whom we are indebted?’

‘My name’s Lattery – Victor Lattery. I’ve just come to stay in Canons Ashmore with my aunt, Miss Eddowes. She lives in the stone house at the far end near the church, Weldon House. She’s a philanthropist.’ He looked for reciprocation, and as Rachel seemed to be tongue-tied again, Alice stepped in.

‘I’m Alice Tallant and my sister’s Rachel. We live at the Castle. How do you do?’

‘How do you do?’ he replied. ‘The pleasure of the meeting, I suspect, is all mine, but I hope you’ve taken no real hurt. May I help you up again?’

‘We can get up all right,’ Alice said, and went round to the near side to scramble up, but Rachel let him take her hand and help her, though it was quite unnecessary. ‘I’ll drive,’ Alice said firmly, gathering the reins.

Lattery was still at the other side, gazing up at Rachel, one hand resting on the trap’s side. ‘Don’t forget to have the wheel checked,’ he said earnestly.

‘We won’t,’ Alice said. ‘Goodbye.’ She clucked to Biscuit and drove briskly away. ‘Don’t look back!’ she whispered urgently to Rachel. But it was too late – she already had. ‘What will he think?’

‘He did us a kindness,’ Rachel said, facing front again. ‘It would have been very awkward otherwise.’

‘I expect someone else would have come along. And it was his fault in the first place.’

‘Oh, Alice. Don’t be so hard.’

‘He seemed nice, though, didn’t he?’

Rachel didn’t answer that. ‘I wonder how long he’ll be here,’ she said instead. ‘He said “staying with” his aunt, but that could be just a short visit. What’s a philanthropist?’

‘Isn’t it something to do with stamp collecting?’ Alice said vaguely. ‘I wonder if Giles knows him, or Richard.’

‘Richard would be more likely. Giles has hardly ever been here to make friends. Oh, I wish Richard would come home. I wish the war would be over.’

‘Giles is more likely to be interested in stamp collecting than Richard,’ Alice observed. ‘Do you think we ought to go round by way of the forge? It would be awful if the wheel collapsed on us.’

When they reached the forge, the blacksmith, Eli Rowse, was working on a large, placid Shire horse tethered out front. He looked up and nodded to them as Alice halted, his large hand full of hoof while he pared the horn. The horse was dozing comfortably, ears relaxed and pouched lower lip quivering with its breaths.