Catnip (Dunbarton Mysteries Book 1) (5 page)

Sighing, she brought herself back
from the heavenly to the mundane. “I hate unpleasant scenes and try to avoid
them whenever possible. With mother, unpleasant scenes are a regular
occurrence.”

“If you feel that way, why did
you come home from college when you mother sent for you?”

“It seemed easier at the time
than opposing her. Mother can be a bit of a steam-roller and I learned years
ago that there are only two things you can do when a steam-roller comes
barreling towards you - get out of its way or get crushed. I chose the former.
Father didn’t. Poor dear, he was never the man mother thought he should be. He’s
a very artistic person and always more interested in craftsmanship than
commerce. Mother couldn’t see this, and the more she pushed, the more he ...
crumbled. Grandmother saw what was happening and hated her even more for it,
and so she made Mother’s life miserable. As for Mother, she always thought she
was doing the right thing, giving him the push he needed. In her own way, she
really loves him. What he really needed, though, and still needs, is to succeed
on his own. I think Grandmother understood that.”

“And what do you need?”

“Me? All I need is to be left
alone.”

“Do you know what you grandmother
said about you?”

She shook her head.

“She said you were a Sleeping
Beauty, waiting for a prince to come and awaken you. What happened to the
prince, Alicia?”

Angry color flooded her cheeks. “That,
Mr. Mallory, is none of your business. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be
going in.” She stood and turned to go.

Recklessly, he went on, knowing
he’d never get another chance. “The Sleeping Beauty could only be awakened with
a kiss. Let’s see if it works.” And before she could protest, he pulled her to
him and covered her lips with his own. For several seconds, too stunned to
resist, she lay softly against him. Then, suddenly, she pulled away, and before
he knew what she intended, sent him staggering with a right hook to the jaw.
Without another word, she stalked back down the path.

Chuckling softly and rubbing his
stinging jaw, Chris walked slowly back to the house, remembering all the while
the warm softness of her lips and the fire in her eyes as her fist struck his
cheek.

Some sleeping princess!

He stood alone, an obscure
figure, tucked away in the shadows of the black walnut tree by the gate at the
end of the driveway, well-hidden from any prying eyes.

‘
This
should be a piece of
cake’,
he thought.
‘
Everyone in town knows that spoiled rotten cat comes and
goes whenever he wants. Just wait until he comes out, pop him into the bag and
be gone, with
no-one
the wiser. Dumb animal won’t know
what hit him. Piece o’cake!
’

Chris awoke the next morning with
the very pleasant sensation of something wonderful having happened, and it was
a glorious two minutes before complete remembrance came flooding back and he
burrowed back into the comfort of his pillows, cursing the day he’d first laid
eyes on a large orange cat with a crooked ear and a girl with a mean right
hook.

The weather did little to
lift
his spirits as he drove to the office. Chill and damp,
with thick black clouds billowing overhead, it mirrored the great, black slough
of despair he was drowning in.

And the day seemed endless.
Usually when he had a problem, Chris could lose himself in work, but not that
day. The nagging thought of the Dunbars and their problems constantly intruded
with scenes from the previous night’s fiasco flashing relentlessly before his
eyes. Finally, he gave up all attempts at other work and turned his full
attention to the core of the problem - Alice Dunbar.

Taking a sheet of paper, he
listed all the things that were making her life and, consequently, everyone
else’s life miserable.

1. The
cat.

That went without saying.

2. Her
lack of a social life.

He didn’t see what he could
possibly do about that.

3. The
state of the house with its nineteenth century decor and its nineteenth century
comfort, or, rather, lack thereof.

He had unpleasant memories of
that himself.

4. Having
to care for that large house with only Alicia for help.

He couldn’t blame her for
that. He had enough trouble keeping his flat clean. Just recently he’d had to
resort to employing a weekly cleaning woman.

A cleaning
woman? Well, why not? There was nothing in the will that forbade it and Mrs.
Dunbar had said he was to use his own judgment. What had Alice said about the
staff when Robert Dunbar was living – ‘a cook, housekeeper, maid and gardener
on full-time staff’? That would be out of the question today. But just maybe
...

After giving the idea more
thought and rechecking the provisions of the will, Chris called James at the
factory, not daring to approach Alice just yet, and made arrangements to pay a
visit after dinner that evening, promising to explain why when they were all
together.

*  *  *

By seven o’clock that evening it
was pouring
with
rain. James let him in, and hustled
his raincoat and umbrella into the kitchen to dry. When he returned they joined
the ladies in the library where they were sitting before a crackling fire. It
was the coziest room in the house and Chris appreciated the warmth and cheerful
chatter of the fire. Marmalade, he learned, was shut in the kitchen for the
time-being,
and since the night was no more fit for beast
than man, was snoozing peacefully in his bed by the
radiator.

Alice greeted him with a curt, “Good
evening, Mr. Mallory,” her expression grim. James pulled up two more chairs,
and Chris sank gratefully into its over-stuffed splendor. James had been wise
in making this room his domain. It was the most comfortable one in the house as
far as Chris could tell.

“I’m grateful that you were
willing to see me this evening, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am
about what happened yesterday. I hope you understand that I was sharp with you
only because I wanted to stop you from doing something you’d later regret.” He
could see Alice was thawing a little and so rushed on to press his advantage. “I
know that it must be very difficult for you, taking care of this house
yourself, looking after your family, and now the cat,
and
doing
all the cooking. It’s remarkable that you manage so well, but I know that it
doesn’t leave you a great deal of time for yourself to pursue your own
interests and have a social life. You shouldn’t have to be a slave to this
house.” She nodded, gratified, and he now had Alicia’s puzzled attention as
well. “I’ve been giving this situation a lot of thought and I think I might
have a solution to this problem, and a way to give more supervision to
Marmalade, to avoid any other unpleasant incidents such as the one that
occurred that night.” He now had their undivided attention and so went on
confidently. “I realized some time ago that part of the reason there have been
so many accidents was the size of the house. There’s just no way that you can
possibly watch him all the time, and he does seem to take an almost diabolical
pleasure in creating chaos. Since it isn’t possible to shrink the size of the
house, then the obvious solution is to increase the size of the household.”

Alice looked bewildered. “Just
what are you suggesting, Mr. Mallory?”

“I’m sorry. I realize I haven’t
made myself very clear. I’m suggesting that it is possible for you to have some
help with the house if you wish.”

“But that’s wonderful!” Alice
exclaimed. “Can you really arrange this?”

“Yes, I can. I looked over the
will again and it is within my power as trustee. Mrs. Dunbar left a great deal
to my judgment. Now, I have considered this carefully and I feel it would be
possible to hire a full-time housekeeper, live-in if you like, to help with the
general housework and cooking, and a cleaning woman to come in weekly to take
care of larger chores such as floors, windows, and whatever else is necessary.
That should free you and Alicia for your own pursuits, and still leave someone
here to keep an eye on Marmalade.”

“Why, Chris, this is marvelous!
It’s just what we’ve needed. I can’t thank you enough.” Alice positively glowed
and he hadn’t failed to notice her use of his first name.

“You’re quite welcome. Now, I’ll
leave the arrangements to you. Hire whomever you wish. The bills will be paid
by our office from the estate. I hope this will make things easier for all of
you.”

Not to mention
for
a certain harassed, young attorney.

God-damned rain
- w
ould it never stop?

It wouldn’t be so bad if he had
an umbrella like that Mallory chap who’d left a while ago but, no, he had to
stand there like a fool with water running down his head and neck and under his
collar. Pretty soon he’d be soaked right through.
Damn rain!
Probably
just wasting his time, too. That cat won’t come out on a night like this. He’ll
be sitting inside by the fire, all warm and dry. No soaking wet feet for him.

Hold on
-
what’s that? It’s that nosy neighbor next door. Why’s
she coming out?

“OK, Horatio. I know it’s raining
but you still have to go out and do your little duty. Go quickly so you don’t
get too wet.”

Damn, it’s the yappy little
mutt. What’s he up to?

Horatio seemed to be on a
mission, heading straight for the hedge by the driveway.

“That’s good, Horatio. Go tinkle
over there by the hedge.”

Horatio lifted a leg and a
jet-stream flowed through the branches directly at him. He didn’t dare move as
it soaked his shoe and pant-leg.

“Good boy, Horatio!”

Oh, shit!

It was almost two weeks before
Chris set foot in the house again. The following Saturday was his mother’s
birthday and he’d spent a long weekend in Toronto with his family. He had
thought to be able to get over one night during the week, but his case load was
especially heavy just then and it was necessary to work late most nights. It
was encouraging, though, that during those two weeks there were no reports of
new disasters.

He arrived at his customary time
the following Sunday with none of the sense of dread he’d felt on previous
visits. He buzzed and waited, wondering if Alicia would be the one to answer
the door. But she wasn’t. Instead, it was answered by a small, round lady with
thick white hair, twinkling blue eyes, and cheeks that shone like a pair of
ripe apples.

“Come in, laddie, come in. You
must be Mr. Mallory. I’d know you anywhere from Miss Alicia’s description.” Her
voice was a gentle Scots burr. “I’m Katie Stuart, the housekeeper.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you. I
hope you’ll be very happy working here.”

“I’ve no doubt about it. Now, you
just go into the parlor and sit down, and I’ll tell Mrs. Dunbar you’re here.”

Alice met him in the parlor, for
once relaxed and smiling. “Hello, Chris. How nice to see you. We missed you
last Sunday. I hope you enjoyed your weekend at home.”

They chatted a few moments while
waiting for James and Alicia to come in from the garden.

“I thought we’d be more
comfortable in the conservatory. If you like, we can go there now.”

He was more than happy to agree.
The conservatory was furnished in wicker with thick floral cushions. Sun shone
through the glass walls and filtered through the greenery. In contrast, the
parlor, with its stiff formality, seemed gloomy and unwelcoming.

“I’m surprised you were able to
find a housekeeper so quickly,” he said as they settled into the soft cushions
of the sofa.

“Mrs. Stuart is an old friend. I’ve
known her since I was a teenager. Her daughter, Nan, was my best friend in high
school and I spent a lot of time in their home. I was so surprised when she
answered my ad but her children are all grown and away, and the house was much
too big for her alone, so she sold it. She’s been living in a
n
apartment,
but after being in a house she felt cramped and lonely. This
way, she has an income and a place to live, and she’s able to invest the money
from the house. She really is a dear.”

The jingle of china approached
and Mrs. Stuart bustled in with a tray heaped high with goodies. “Now, my lamb,
I’ve brought you some ‘Singing Hinnies’ straight from the oven, and cream, and
some of my special strawberry jam. It won a blue ribbon, last county fair. And
here’s a nice cup of tea, good and hot. Now, you get started. Don’t wait for
Miss Alicia and Mr. Dunbar. They came in a few minutes ago but I sent them
upstairs to wash up. You just dig in and I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

Open-mouthed, Chris watched her
bustle back out. “Singing Hinnies?”

Alice giggled like a young girl. “They’re
a tea scone with raisins. She used to make them for me when I was a girl.
Honestly, with her around, I feel sixteen again. She’s positively adopted us. Her
daughter, Nan, married an engineer and they have three teenagers. They all used
to live together, but his company transferred him to Vancouver last year and
she’s been very lonely ever since. I think this is going to work out
beautifully for all of us. She’s a marvelous cook and we share kitchen duty.
And as for cleaning, I can barely keep up with her. I took your advice, though,
and have hired your cleaning lady, Mrs. Gunther, to come in weekly.”

“You certainly have organized
this quickly. I’m very pleased. It seems to be working out.”

“It’s working beautifully. Mrs.
Stuart always had cats at home and so she’s used to them. And she certainly
knows how to handle Marmalade.” She actually managed to say his name without
grimacing. “And you were right. Having an extra person to keep an eye on him
has reduced mishaps.”

“It should free you and Alicia as
well, to get out more and socialize.”

“Yes, I can get out more, but, of
course, a real social life is impossible.”

“Why is that?” he asked, more
than a little annoyed.

“It’s just that I can’t accept
invitations I can’t return. That has always been the problem.”

Exasperated, Chris stood up and
walked to the French doors, trying to hide his annoyance. “I fail to see the
problem. Mrs. Stuart can keep Marmalade away from your guests, and help you
with the preparations.”

“No, no, you don’t understand.
How can we have guests in when there isn’t even a comfortable place for them to
sit? And it’s so hopelessly
old-fashioned.
The rooms
are large and there are some lovely pieces, but everything is so cluttered and
out-dated.” A look of distaste crossed her face.

“Well then, why don’t you bring
things up-to-date?”

“You mean that’s possible?” she
asked, startled.

“Of course. I’ve been a
s
sensitive as any to the problems of the decor. I told you
at the outset that you needn’t be afraid to approach me on matters concerning
the house.”

“That’s right, you did. I
remember. It’s just that James’ mother was always so against changing anything
and I sometimes forget she’s gone.”

“You’ll have to okay all plans
with me with respect to the existing furniture and any new pieces you want to
buy, and there will be a budget, but the rest is up to you. What rooms would
you want to change?”

She didn’t hesitate. It was
clearly something she had thought about, and often. “The parlor and dining
room, of course, and the foyer and upstairs hall. The library is fine the way
it is but I’ll ask James if he’d like any changes. Perhaps some new draperies.
Our bedrooms were all redecorated a couple of years ago so they needn’t be
done. I think the only other rooms would be the bathrooms and the kitchen. They’re
in desperate need of modernizing.”

“That’s quite an ambitious
undertaking,” he said doubtfully, “but if you’re up to it, feel free to go
ahead.” At this point he was willing to OK anything that would make Alice
happy.

“Wonderful! I’ll start making
plans this week, and next Sunday we can go over them. Now you help yourself to
the scones and jam, and I’ll go and see what’s become of my absentee family.”
Humming happily, she left the room and he heard her calling her husband and
daughter, a lilt in her voice that he had never heard before.

He walked out onto the patio and
lounged complacently against the door.

“Mr. Mallory.” A conspiratorial
whisper from behind drew him sharply around.

“Oh, Mrs. Stuart, you startled
me.”

“I’m sorry, laddie, but I didn’t
want Mrs. Dunbar to overhear. Will ye come with me into the garden for just a
wee minute?”

Mystified, he nodded and followed
her away from the house into the comparative privacy of the garden.

“What can I do for you, Mrs.
Stuart?” he asked, feeling ridiculous to be whispering in the bushes.

“Oh, nothing, laddie. I just want
to thank you for what you’re doing for this family and my lovely Alice. When
she and my Nan were young, she was like a second daughter to me. You can’t
imagine what a lovely little thing she was, so fun-loving and pretty.” She
smiled in reminiscence and sighed. “I used to worry about her even then. All
she ever wanted was to go to parties and have a good time, and I was afraid she
wasn’t preparing herself for life. But then she married Mr. Dunbar and I
thought everything would be all right. We lost touch over the years, but I
always kept an eye on her, and it near broke my heart to see what was happening
to her. Mind you, now, I’m not saying it was all old Mrs. Dunbar’s fault. I’m
not blind. But still, I think the old lady could have tried harder. She never
wanted Alice for a daughter-in-law and never gave her a chance. It kind of
soured my poor, bonnie girl. But that’s all water under the bridge and I’m not
one to speak ill of the dead. This is just a round-about way of saying that
what you’ve done for my little Alice and her family can never be repaid, but
you should know the good you’ve done, and that I, for one, am grateful.” She
sniffed and fumbled for her hankie. “Now, I’ve said my piece, and if you’ll
excuse me, I’ll just slip around to the kitchen door. Please don’t say anything
about what I told you. You just go and have your tea while it’s still hot.” She
turned to go, then, hesitating, impulsively reached up and kissed him gently on
the cheek before she hurried off around the house.

He watched her until she was out
of sight, feeling very touched, then turned contentedly back to the house.

That feeling of contentment
carried over through most of the next week.

*  *  *

James called on Friday and asked
to meet for lunch, and Chris was very gratified at the gesture of friendship.

They met at the town’s best
restaurant, a little Italian place in an old converted house on the main
street. Chris was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that he had an ulterior
motive in accepting the invitation. In the face of James’ goodwill, Chris hoped
to enlist his aid in the pursuit of his daughter, but his ulterior motives were
to be lost in what James had to say.

Di Angelo’s was as busy as usual,
but the Dunbar name procured a table without waiting, much to James’
embarrassment and the annoyance of those ahead of them in line. They ordered
and made small talk until the food arrived. Chris could sense James had
something on his mind but left it up to him to bring up whatever was bothering
him.

“I’m glad to have this
opportunity to express my gratitude for how happy you’ve made Alice. I haven’t
seen her so excited in years. We’re up to our elbows in decorating books and
wallpaper, paint and fabric samples.” He laughed briefly, but the laughter didn’t
reach his eyes. “That’s not the reason I asked you to meet me, though. I
thought I should let you know what was happening before I made any final
decision.”

‘Final decision’? Surely he wasn’t
thinking of divorcing her just when things were looking up.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t
understand. Happening with what? What ‘final decision’?”

“I’m not making myself very
clear, am I? You must know that for some years the company has been having
financial difficulties. I’ve held out, hoping things would improve, but I’m
about out of ideas, and I’m afraid that in the near future I’m going to have to
close the factory. I’d like to do it while we still have a good reputation.”

Chris’ appetite suddenly left and
he pushed his lunch aside. James looked beaten. “Are you sure there’s nothing
to be done?”

“If there is, it escapes me. We just
can’t compete any more. Our costs keep rising, wood prices are out of sight,
and it’s putting us out of the reach of most people. The large department store
chain that has always been our major customer has just informed me that at the
end of our current contract they won’t be renewing. I know we could turn out
cheaper furniture if we mechanized and used an assembly line, veneers and
compressed wood products, but I refuse to compromise the reputation of the
company by producing lesser quality furniture. The Dunbar name has always stood
for excellence. Furthermore, even if we could solve the market problem, we just
can’t get skilled craftsmen. It seems no-one today wants to work with his
hands. Most of my employees are nearing retirement, and when they’re gone, I
don’t know how I’ll replace them.”

“I’m so sorry. I know this must
be very hard for you.”

“I thought you ought to know
since the estate owns 49% of the company. You know that when my father died, he
left everything to mother, except
the
controlling
interest in the firm. He felt I’d need that in order to run it successfully.”
He smiled bitterly. “At any rate, when we close I feel that I’m obliged to give
each employee a year’s salary as well as their pension. After that, and once we’ve
paid all outstanding debts, whatever’s left, if anything, will be divided.”

“Will you do me a favor, James?
Don’t do anything just yet. Give me some time to look into things.”

“Very well. How much time will
you need?”

“I don’t know just yet. Just don’t
do anything for a while. Would it be possible for me to tour the factory?”

“Of course. Any time you like.”

“How about first thing Monday
morning?”

“All right. I’ll be expecting
you. Now, if you don’t mind, I don’t seem to have much appetite. I think I’d
just better get back to the office. I’ll take care of the check on my way out.”

Chris started to protest but
James was gone, winding his way through the tables, shoulders drooping, head
bowed, a picture of dejection and defeat.