The Courtyard by Marcia Willett Page A

never called Henry ‘darling.’ Well, well! This was a turn up for the book! She shot Nell a calculating look. Dear old Henry was quite smitten with her. Well, why not? It would all add spice to the gathering and John looked as if he could be fun with a little encouragement! ‘What a splendid idea. And that will give Mrs Ridley time to get herself organised.’
    Her glance drifted round to John who caught her eye and coloured a little.
    He looked at Nell. ‘Suits me,’ he said. He raised his eyebrows interrogatively and after a moment she smiled at him.
    â€˜Sounds wonderful,’ she said and felt warmed by Gussie’s obvious delight and Henry’s beam of pleasure. Her visits to Nethercombe thus far had given rise to varying sensations. She always loved to be with Gussie and Henry’s old-world gallantry was charming but she suspected that, as far as Gillian was concerned, she was merely a pawn to be used in the pursuit of pleasure and as an alleviation from the boredom of country life.
    â€˜We’ll have a lovely party,’ said Gillian, pouring coffee. ‘Won’t we, Jack?’
    â€˜Oh yes!’ said the boy, putting down his spoon and beaming at Mrs Ridley, who was going out with a loaded tray. ‘That was smashing! May I stay up to see the New Year in?’
    â€˜No,’ said John.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Gillian simultaneously and they both burst out laughing.
    â€˜Please,’ begged Jack, sensing Gillian’s partisanship. ‘I never have been allowed to. All my friends do.’
    â€˜House rules,’ said Nell firmly, unwilling to let Jack be the pawn in
a game between Gillian and John.‘When you’re a guest you obey the rules of the house. You’ll have to ask Mr Morley.’
    Jack leaned forward to look at Henry who had just got up to open the door for Mrs Ridley and seemed rather nonplussed by the powers suddenly attributed to him. He recalled the days of his youth and decided to compromise.
    â€˜Bed as usual. Then you can get up just before midnight for a glass of champagne and to see the New Year in. How’s that?’
    He looked at Nell anxiously, hoping that he hadn’t rocked any domestic boats and saw that she was smiling. So was John.
    â€˜You’ll sleep right through it,’ he said to Jack.
    â€˜I shall wake him up,’ said Gillian over Jack’s protestations to the contrary and with a provocative smile at John. ‘Don’t worry, Jack. You shall have your champagne.’
    â€˜Gillian’s nice,’ said Jack, waving furiously through the back window as they drove away. ‘I like her. You like her too, don’t you, Dad? I could tell.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said John, after a moment. He slipped a glance at Nell who was staring ahead. ‘Yes, I like her. I like them all.’
    â€˜I’m glad we’re staying on the way back.’ Jack settled into the small space left for him in the loaded car. He opened the paper napkin that Gillian had slipped him and saw with pleasure several of the chocolates that had been put on the table with the coffee. He slipped one into his mouth and sucked contentedly. ‘I like them all, too. But I like Gillian best.’
    John slipped another glance sideways. He took his left hand from the steering wheel and laid it over Nell’s clasped ones.
    â€˜I like Mum best,’ he said.
    â€˜Oh well.’ Jack’s voice sounded rather sleepy and he nestled into his quilt that Nell had tucked into his corner to make it as comfortable for him as she could. ‘That’s different, isn’t it? I don’t count Mum.’

Eight
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    THE PARTY AT NETHERCOMBE set the New Year off to a good start. Henry sold a second cottage, albeit one of the smallest ones, in the Courtyard and John and Martin sold two properties which enabled them to pay some of their creditors and earned them a breathing space. John’s volatile spirits