Page 37 of The Mad Marchams

“We’d better go with her, or she’ll kick up a stink.”

As they walked back to the bakery, Mabel glanced at Felicity. Her flushed face was slightly less rosy, but it was obvious she was deliberately not meeting Mabel’s eye.

The package must be making her nervous for some reason. Mabel had seen that it was from New York, but she wasn’t close enough with Colin’s sister to ask for more details, and Mabel didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

They met the dowager at the bakery and followed her to the Marcham Arms, a low, stone-and-timber building with a long sloping garden down to what appeared to be a river or stream.

Mabel settled the dowager and Felicity at a table and went inside to find the lunch menu and order tea and lemonade. She stepped through the doorway and onto a flagstone floor. The interior of the pub was dark, with a low, beamed ceiling. The space smelled faintly of ash, woodsmoke, and stale beer. The young woman behind the bar was watching cricket on a TV wedged above one of the beams.

“Hi,” Mabel called out. “Do you have a lunch menu?”

“Here you go, love. You sitting outside?”

“Yes, we brought the dogs with us.”

“We don’t mind if they come in.” She smiled and pointed to the enormous old fireplace that took up half the wall. A pile of labradors were sleeping on the hearth. “They can snooze with our four.”

“We’ll definitely come on in if the weather changes,” Mabel said. “Can I get two lemonades and a pot of tea for Lady Marcham, please?”

“Oh, are you that American who’s staying at the hall? My mum was talking about you the other day.”

“Who’s your mom?” Mabel asked cautiously.

“Sandra Reynolds. I’m Cheryl.” She grinned at Mabel. “I was supposed to be at the W.I. meeting but I overslept.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Cheryl. I’m Mabel. Mrs. Reynolds did mention you.”

In fact, Mrs. Reynolds hadn’t stopped mentioning Cheryl for not bothering to turn up to the W.I. meeting, but Mabel wasn’t going to blab.

“She really wanted me to meet you because I’ve been doing computer programming at the local college.”

“That’s great! We need more women in tech.”

“You think so?” Cheryl looked doubtful. “Because I’m getting sick of being talked down to by the guys and the teacher, even when I’m top of the class.”

“The best revenge on those kinds of idiots is to do really well in your career and rub their noses in it at every opportunity,” Mabel said firmly. “Ask me how I know.”

Cheryl sighed. “I’m nearly finished, but it’s the usual problem, companies want experience, and I don’t have any.”

“I can offer you some experience,” Mabel said.

“Doing what?”

“Helping me build the new website for Marcham Hall. And, if you’re willing, after I’ve left, you could maintain and update it for them. Would you be interested? I’ll pay you the going rate.”

“Really?” Cheryl’s smile lit up her face. “That would be great!”

Mabel wrote her cell phone number and email on a napkin and passed it over to Cheryl. “Think about it overnight, and let me know either way, okay?”

“Thank you so much.” Cheryl set two glasses of lemonade on a tray and went to get a tea pot and cup. “Let me know what you want to have for lunch. Mrs. Wilkes does a good gammon, egg, and chips. Today it’s our special.”

Mabel paused. “What’s gam-on?”

“Gammon?” Cheryl looked at her funny. “It’s like a really thick piece of the best bit of bacon.”

“Oh! I don’t think it’s common in California, but it sounds good.” Mabel gathered up the menu and made a hasty exit before Cheryl thought she was completely nuts.

Mabel conferred with Felicity and the dowager about what they’d like to eat, and when she went back inside to place the order for two specials and one ploughman’s, Cheryl greeted her and told her she’d just sent samples of her work to Mabel’s email.