Vile Visitors

Mum agreed like a shot. He hadn’t paid for a thing up to then. The boys had visions of ice cream and cream buns. I knew there was a catch in it, but it was just the day for tea out on a lawn somewhere, and I did feel we ought at least to get that out of Angus Flint in return for all our suffering. So we all crammed into his car. Angus Flint drove exactly like you might expect, far too fast. He honked his horn a lot, overtook everything he could – particularly on corners – and he expected old ladies to leap like deer in order not to be run over. Mum said what about the Copper Kettle? Tony said the cakes in the other place were better. But Angus Flint insisted that he had seen, “A perfect little place,” on his way to stay with us.

We drove three times round town looking for the perfect little place, at top speed. Our name was mud in every street by then. We called out whenever we saw a cafe of any kind after a while, but Angus Flint just said, “We can’t stop here,” and sped on.

After nearly an hour, when Pip was near despair, we ended up roaring through Palham, which is a village about three miles out of town. There was a place called “Ye Olde Tea Shoppe” with striped umbrellas. Our spirit was broken by then. We didn’t even mention it. But Angus Flint stopped with a screech of brakes. “This looks like as if it might do,” he said.

We all piled out and sat under an umbrella.

“Well, what will you have?” said Angus Flint.

Deep breaths were drawn and cream teas for five were ordered. We all waited, looking forward to cream and cakes. We felt we really deserved our teas.

Angus Flint said, “I’ve applied for a job in your town, Margaret. The interview’s tomorrow. Your husband was good enough to say that I could make my home with you. Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

We stared. Had Dad said that?

“There’s Cora,” Mum said. “We’ve no room.”

“That’s no problem,” Angus Flint said. “You can put the two girls in together.”

“No!” I said. If you knew Cora—

“I’d pay,” Angus Flint said, joking and trying to be nice. “A nominal sum – a pound a month, say?”

Mum drew herself up resolutely, to my great relief. “No, Angus. It’s absolutely out of the question. You’ll have to go as soon as Cora comes back.”