Page 36 of The Mad Marchams

“I would’ve thought Mrs. Reynolds would’ve been all over that. She adores Freddy.”

“She’s rather busy making fairy cakes for the W.I. stall at the Saturday market,” Felicity said. As usual she wore a long skirt, a high-necked blouse, her droopy cardigan, and a single strand of pearls. To Mabel she always looked like she’d stepped out of the nineteen thirties. Did she even own a pair of jeans? One day Mabel intended to find out.

“Lovely!” Mabel smiled. “I’ve hardly had a chance to get down to the village yet, so this will be a real treat!”

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way down the long drive, Lady Marcham with her trusty cane and her arm firmly through Mabel’s, while Felicity brought up the rear with her two Jack Russell terriers, Ping and Pong. Despite the overgrown trees and the patchy gravel Mabel appreciated the shade and the gentle breeze.

“I assume we won’t be bringing the cake back with us?” Mabel inquired. “Or should we take the car?”

“Oh, they’ll deliver it. They are most obliging.”

“Just like Uber Eats,” Mabel murmured.

“Eats what, dear?”

“Nothing. What are Freddy’s favorite cake flavors?”

“Chocolate anything,” Felicity said.

“Can’t argue with that.” Mabel grinned. “Are there a lot of stores in the village?”

“Not many. Most people do their shopping in the bigger towns these days because it’s so much cheaper. But we still have a small general shop and post office along with the baker and the butcher.”

“No fast food?”

“Only if you count the microwaved pasties at the pub.” Felicity whistled to her dogs and attached their leashes.

“I love pubs.” Mabel patted one of the dogs as he licked the side of her hiking boots. “Maybe we could stop off for lunch. Does it have a garden?”

“I think so.” Felicity frowned. “I haven’t been there for years. Father doesn’t really approve of women going into bars.”

Mabel suppressed a snort. “We won’t really be going in. It’s such a lovely day we could sit in the garden. My treat.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” the dowager said. “And I know Mr. Wilkes won’t mind the dogs at all.”

When they reached the bakery, Mabel offered to stay outside with the dogs while the Marcham ladies went in and ordered the cake. There was a small stone bench set against the wall, which she took advantage of while the dogs enjoyed the shade offered under the seat.

Marcham village looked like a set from a PBS historical drama series. Mabel half expected a coach and horses to trot down the cobbled street past the mixture of thatched cottages and black-and-white, timber-framed Tudor buildings. Her mind immediately jumped to an old college friend who worked in LA for a movie production company. She took a couple of pictures and sent Dale a text.

I know you’re always looking for awesome locations for your movies, Dale, how about this gem? xx

Sudden movement to her left caught her eye. Felicity was moving stealthily in the shadows between the bakery and the village’s other shops. Where the heck was she off to? And why the secrecy?

Mabel glanced through the bakery’s window. Lady Marcham was still occupied, so Mabel said, “Come on,” to the dogs and set off after Felicity.

As they approached the post office, Felicity came out.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Mabel said, smiling.

Felicity acted like she’d been shot, slapping her hand to her chest, and inadvertently dropping a large package to the ground. While she was distracted by the joyous reunion with her dogs, Mabel bent down and retrieved the box.

“It’s nothing important!” Felicity grabbed the package.

“Probably just a present for Freddy?” Mabel asked.

“Yes!” Felicity nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly what it is.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Mabel gestured down the street. “Do you think Lady Marcham will take a while with the baker? Or should we meet her in the pub?”