Chapter 2 #2
“Oh, well, in that case—” She paused as the hiker reached the top, frowning when he flashed a smile at Daisy as he passed. “My dear, a word of warning.”
Daisy suppressed a sigh, but short of being downright rude she couldn’t think of a way to escape. “Excuse me for just a moment. Girls, run along and find a new home for the crab, then go and get ready for lunch. I’ll see you at the house shortly.”
The girls ran off. Mrs. Hammett started moving along the jetty after them and the other disembarking passengers.
“A word of warning,” she repeated. “A young woman on her own, without her husband to support her, simply can’t be too careful.
I dare say that young man you were talking to may be respectable enough.
” Her sniff conveyed a world of doubt. “But there’s others as can’t be trusted not to take an ell if you give ’em an inch. ”
“Oh?” Daisy’s chilly tone was intended to make plain that she didn’t feel her having saved the blasted woman’s eggs gave said blasted woman a right to lecture.
But she must be out of practice with the Dowager Viscountess’s arctic pretension-depressing voice, for she might as well have saved the chill to cool her porridge.
“Just to give you a hint, for your own good. You stay away from that George Enderby, that’s landlord o’ the Schooner Inn. Married
Nancy Pinner, as ought to have knowed better, to get his hands on the hotel, and he can’t keep his hands off any woman under forty.
A real charmer he is, they say, though I can’t see it meself, but he’s going to get his comeuppance one o’ these days, you mark my words. They ought to bring back the stocks.”
And the ducking-stool for scolds, Daisy thought. Mrs. Hammett was the sort of person who made one think things one couldn’t utter aloud.
“There, I’ve had my say. You’d best be off after your daughter, or they’ll be late for lunch. Children don’t obey their elders the way they did when I was young.” She turned a look of suspicion on Daisy. “You look very young to have a daughter that age!”
“How kind of you to say so.” Daisy beamed at her unwanted new acquaintance as if the woman had intended a compliment. “You’re quite right, I must go and find the girls. Good day.” With a slight bow, she escaped.
When she reached the guest-house, after stopping at the newsagent for chocolate, Bel and Deva were already coming up from the beach.
“Our castle’s all washed away,” said Deva mournfully.
“There’s not a single sign of it. I wish we’d saved the feather Sid gave us. We can build an even better one this afternoon, though, Deva,” Belinda assured her, “can’t we, Mummy?”
“If you’ve recovered from our walk. Come on, now, we’ll be late for lunch.”
In the hall, they found the hiker. He was telling Mrs. Anstruther, “You were recommended to me as a particularly comfortable place to stay.”
“Oh dear, I do have a room free, but I’m afraid I don’t usually take young single gentlemen.” She saw Daisy and the girls and her face cleared. “But as I have a family staying, I expect it will be all right. You don’t mind children?”
“Not at all.” He looked round and smiled. “We’ve already met, on the ferry. I’m a schoolmaster. I’ll be out walking most of the time,
anyway. I hope you can give me a packed lunch and tea, Mrs. Anstruther?”
“Of course, sir, and there’s plenty if you want to stop in for lunch now. Here, will you sign the guest-book, please?”
Daisy and the girls went up to their rooms to tidy themselves.
A few minutes after they came down to the dining room, with its cheerful chintzes and its bay-window view of the inlet, the young man joined them.
He was clad now in somewhat creased flannels, jacket and tie.
He stood for a moment with his hands on the back of his chair, surveying the gate-legged table set for four, with a slice of melon at each place, a pitcher of lemonade and a basket of rolls in the middle.
“Jolly good show at a moment’s notice. It looks as if I shan’t starve.”
“You’re more likely to find your knapsack weighed down by your packed lunch and tea,” said Daisy. “Do sit down. I’m Mrs. Fletcher and this is my daughter Belinda and her friend Deva Prasad.”
“I’m Donald Baskin. How do you do, ladies. Are you staying here for long?”
“Two weeks,” Belinda informed him. “My father’s coming on Saturday. We put the hermit crab in a rocky pool. It had seaweed in it and snails, and sea amenomes and little fishes.”
“Pomatoschistus microps, I expect; the common goby. Good, I’m sure your hermit crab will live a long and satisfactory life.”
“Mr. Baskin,” said Deva, her dark eyes round, “are you really going to walk all day, every day?”
“I am indeed, Miss Prasad. You see, I work in London and it’s a great treat to me to walk in the beautiful countryside.”
“Oh,” she said doubtfully. “We went for a long walk this morning and my legs got very tired.”
“Ah, but if you walk every day, you soon stop getting tired.”
“Oh. Mrs. Fletcher, are we going to walk every single day, when it’s not raining?”
“I expect so, Deva. I thought we’d go up the cliff tomorrow. Now let Mr. Baskin eat his lunch in peace.”
“That’s all right.” He helped himself to a home-baked roll still warm from the oven, and Belinda passed him the butter.
“And this is all right! I haven’t had a chance to look about the town yet.
The person who recommended Mrs. Anstruther’s to me mentioned a hotel called the Schooner Inn. Do you know it, Mrs. Fletcher?”
“I’ve heard of it,” Daisy said cautiously, “but until today it’s been raining since we arrived, so we haven’t done much exploring. The town’s tiny, though, more of an overgrown village, so I’m sure you can’t miss it.”
“Ah. I thought I might pop in for a drink later. What have you girls been doing while it’s been raining?”
“Playing games,” said Deva. “Mrs. Anstruther has lots. Do you know how to play pachisi? It’s an Indian game but it’s called Ludo in England.”
“Yes, I know it.”
“What about Halma?” asked Belinda. “It’s best to have an even number of people, so poor Mummy didn’t play.”
Mr. Baskin grinned at Daisy, obviously guessing she had not been heartbroken at her exclusion. “I’ll be happy to challenge all comers at Halma this evening,” he proclaimed. “If that will suit Mrs. Fletcher?”
Daisy agreed. After the morning’s exertions and an afternoon on the beach, the girls shouldn’t have enough energy to argue over every move, even if Baskin’s presence didn’t deter them.
In the event, he played so brilliantly that he made Bel win one game and Deva the second, without either suspecting a thing.
A clever man, Daisy thought, admiring his manoeuvres.
She wondered if he would have given her the third game, had they played any longer. However, he went off for his drink.
“Isn’t he a nice man, Mummy?”
Daisy would have agreed wholeheartedly had it not been for his question about the Schooner Inn. Not that she had the slightest objection to his popping into a pub for a pint or a g-and-t or whatever
his favourite tipple might be. But she fancied his frank bonhomie had suffered a slight eclipse when he mentioned the place.
After Mrs. Hammett, however unlikable, had added her warning to Mrs. Anstruther’s, on top of Daisy’s uneasiness with the man himself, anyone in any way associated with George Enderby was to be mistrusted.