Read Online Knit One Pearl One by Gil McNeil - Free Book Online Page A

from Clarkson, who likes licking people’s feet, while simultaneously attempting the half bob/half curtsy she reserves for Lady Denby’s appearances in the shop.
    “Morning, Enid.”
    Martin smiles. If anyone else attempted to call his mother Enid, there’d be ructions, but Elsie seems to have decided that discretion is the better part of valor where our local aristocrats are involved.
    “I’ll ring you after the auction, Jo. Good morning, ladies.” Martin’s whistling as he goes out of the shop, and he winks at me, which Lady Denby spots. Trevor goes into a frenzy of barking and tail wagging, leaping up and putting his paws on Martin’s chest so they end up doing a sort of dance until Martin finally gets the lead untangled.
    “Did he say auction? Hope he’s selling that ridiculous dog, though I can’t imagine who would buy it.”
    “He’s restoring a barn, Lady Denby, so he’s off to buy wood. Shall I take the dogs outside for you?”
    “Please, my dear. Restoring a barn? Excellent, got to keep our old buildings alive. So important. Now, what was it I wanted? Oh yes, told George I’d meet him here. Cup of tea, keeps him going, the promise of a cup of tea. Has he tipped up yet?”
    “Not yet, but do go through, Tom will find you a table.”
    I’m outside untangling dog leads and getting my hands and feet licked when Lord Denby wanders along, looking as vague as ever, and carrying a large metal bucket.
    “Those dogs look familiar, got two just like that at home. Oh, right, Pru inside, is she? Meant to be meeting her, only I’m damned if I can remember when. Excellent. Got it right for once. Might treat myself to a bun.”
    Not if Lady Denby has anything to say about it, he won’t. She tends to stick to cups of tea unless it’s a special occasion.
    I follow him into the café so I can wash my hands in the sink behind the counter. Bloody dogs. I can tell Tom is trying not to laugh.
    “You can stop that right now or I’ll make you do it next time.”
    “I’m allergic to dogs.”
    “Really?”
    “Well no, but they seem to like you.”
    “Yes, and they’ll like you too, once they’ve licked your feet a few times.”
    Elsie is still lurking, ostensibly checking the stock of pattern books and knitting magazines on the shelf unit by the window.
    “Good morning, Moira.”
    Lord Denby calls everyone Moira. He says it saves time.
    “Cup of tea and a bun please, when you have a minute.”
    Lady Denby sighs. “There you are, George. Do sit down, I’ve already ordered. What on earth is that?”
    He glances down and looks momentarily confused. “A bucket?”
    “Yes, thank you, I can see that, but why have you got it?”
    “No idea. Hang on; it’s coming back to me. Need it for the drawing room fire. Other one’s got a ruddy great hole in it. Nothing like wood ash for mulching round clematis. Hydrangeas love it too. Marvelous stuff.”
    She doesn’t look convinced, but they’re sitting sipping tea and enjoying a tussle over whether Lord Denby will or will not have cake while I add a few knitted jam tarts to the café window. Gran’s knitted some slices of Battenberg too, just to keep the pink theme going.
    “Excellent, that’s the ticket, got to keep up your standards, key part of our plan, can’t be doing with Silver again.”
    Lady Denby is determined to win the Gold Medal in the Best Seaside Town (Small) competition this year.
    “Meant to ask, could you provide tea and cakes for the judges? They’ve changed the rules this year, coming down unannounced, sneaky trick, and then they return for the formal visit. But we’ll have our scouts out, so we’re bound to spot them. Just need to make sure everything is looking tip-top from early summer onward, and your windows always do us proud.”
    “Of course, we’d be happy to help.”
    Elsie’s thrilled. “Fancy, the judges in our café. Won’t that be lovely.”
    Lady Denby gives her the kind of look you’d give a parlormaid who was lingering