‘First rule of box office,’ said his mother, Estée. ‘Give the people what they want.’
‘Well, thank you very much, Jasper,’ said Minty pointedly. ‘We wish you lots of luck with your movie night venture, and of course we’llallbe there to support you. Won’t we?’ She eyed the assembly sternly. That hadn’t been an invitation but an instruction. ‘Now, Estée has a report on the food bank project.’
This made Harri do a double take. Why was a local celebrity involved in the food bank?
‘Foodpantry, thank you,’ said Estée rising to her feet. ‘I’m pleased to report that after a visit to Sparing’s Farm out on the promontory, I’ve managed to persuade the younger farmer Sparing to donate some of his early potato and kale harvest this year. He was also very forthcoming about delivering the produce himself, so long as I’m around to sign for it.’
‘I’ll bet he was,’ snorted Mr Bovis under his breath, but still loud enough for the circle to hear. ‘Daft lad ’ud be goggle-eyed at the sight of thefamousMrs Gold.’
‘MsGold,’ she corrected him.
‘Amazing what a flash of those American chompers’ll do,’ Bovis said, paying her no heed, only to receive a jab of Mrs C.’s elbow.
‘In fact,’ Estée continued, ignoring him, ‘the community has surprised us all with its generosity towards the pantry and, combined with the Clove Lore estate produce, masterfully grown by our own Leonid, we’ve enough donations coming in to get us through the winter and well into spring.’
‘You’re doin’ a lovely job, Estée,’ put in Jowan. ‘And we’re all proud of how you’ve made the food pantry take off, what with you having no experience of the real world or us normal folks’ ways.’
Estée smiled at this and lowered herself to her chair in a floaty haze of voluminous silver fabric. ‘Thank you,’ she said graciously.
Harri couldn’t help glancing at Annie to see if she thought the whole exchange as deranged as he did. He found she wasn’t even trying to hide her delight.
‘What’s next?’ said Minty, consulting her agenda. ‘Oh yes, my husband reporting on the unhappy goings-on at Castle Lore.’
This made Harri sit up. ‘Sounds like a novel,’ he said, but the locals kept their eyes fixed on Jowan. ‘I’ll shut up then,’ he whispered for Annie’s ears only. She glowed beside him.
‘’Tis a sad business,’ began Jowan, standing, his pearl drop earring bouncing at his jaw. Harri thought how like a pirate he looked as well as sounded. ‘Seeing a once great castle up for sale and all its effects going to auction.’
‘Not that any of us have set foot in the place!’ tutted Mrs Crocombe, arms folded over her matronly bust.
‘Not one amongst us but our Mint ever laid eyes on the mysterious late Lord Courtenay of Castle Lore,’ Jowan said, turning to his wife.
‘It’s true,’ Minty responded. ‘My father included him in his hunting party when the young fellow first inherited the castle. He’d lived in France all his life, and came to England that winter. Gosh, it must be fifty years ago now. He rode over, drowning in his late father’s hunting pinks, gulped down a sherry while astride, spoke to no one at all, and when the hunt moved off, he beat a hasty retreat back to his castle. I never saw him again. Sickly, he was, and ever so pale. I invited him to the Big House, of course, but he never responded and that was that. Some country folk can be a little strange,’ she concluded sagely, leaning into the circle to address Annie.
Harri felt Annie’s shoulders shaking by his side. He had to speak to stop himself blurting a laugh. ‘And now they’re selling off the castle, did you say?’
‘Lock and stock,’ said Jowan. ‘There’s no one to inherit; the entire line died out with him, title an’ all. Auction’s on Saturday.’
‘We’ve all been agog at the auction catalogue, haven’t we!’ Mrs Crocombe said excitedly.
‘Not everyone,’ Elliot the vet put in dryly and with the look of a dutiful young husband dragged along to these things against his will.
‘And that brings me to you two!’ Jowan was saying, pointing his sandy-bristled chin at Harri and Annie.
‘Us?’ Annie grinned, totally lost as to what was going on, but having fun nonetheless.
‘The bookshop always requires antiquarian stock. It sells well an’ it looks good on display. The auction catalogue suggests Castle Lore’s grand library has an impressive collection, much of it is goin’ to be bundled in lots of unspecified titles, which suggests there’s too much material to catalogue individually!’
‘I smell treasure,’ Mr Bovis butted in.
‘An’ that’s where the Borrowers come in,’ Jowan continued. ‘We need representatives to attend the auction and bid on some of these lots. Suss them out, find the treasure.’
‘It’ll be goin’ for pennies,’ Bovis added knowingly.
‘Will you go on our behalf?’ Jowan was asking Harri. ‘Auction’s on all day and there’s a drinks reception for buyers before the big lots in the evening. Collectors will be flyin’ in from all over the world for a snoop.’
‘Heck yes we will!’ answered Annie. ‘An auction in a spooky English castle, and with drinks thrown in?’
‘Don’t you want to go?’ Harri asked Jowan. ‘Since it’s your bookshop, your stock?’
