Four Days in October

Chapter Three: Day Two (Sunday)

Mrs Dorran was wiping down the kitchen table after preparing lunch, when the door from the back entrance opened and Mirabelle came in. She was wearing a mackintosh coat with a big hood, and wellington boots, and she dripped water all over the floor. 

'Mrs Lightning! Shut that door before you let the cold air in,' the cook fussed at her. 'You do look wet! Like a drowned chicken.' 

'Yes, it's raining cats and dogs,' Mirabelle agreed. She took off her wet coat and hung it up on the peg inside the door, then removed her wet boots and put on light indoor shoes. 

'Come over to the stove and warm up,' Mrs Dorran urged her. 'What have you been doing out there?' 

'I've been guarding the back of the house. We need to make sure no one gets close to Mrs Maria's window.' Mirabelle sat down on a chair by the table, and then smiled warmly as Mrs Dorran pushed a cup of hot tea into her cold hands: 'Oh, thank you!' She sipped the hot liquid and felt the warmth spread through her whole body. 'That's better!' 

'I don't know why you spend so much time over that woman, I really don't,' said Mrs Dorran, sitting down on the other side of the kitchen table with her own cup of hot tea. 'She's been nothing but trouble since she arrived - when was it? Three days ago?' 

'Four,' said Mirabelle. 'This is the fifth day since she came.' 

'Ever since she arrived, she's had Mr Manfred and all of us running round after her. First it's clean out the room for her, then she's going out in the evening and stays out all night, then she gets herself kidnapped and her necklace broken, and why Emily felt she had to mend it for her I don't know.' Mrs Dorran shook her head over the foolishness of her colleague. 'Then she's off to that manor house and gets herself shot, and there's poor Mr Manfred never had a moment's rest since she's come, and you and Mr Lightning and Mr Poiccart charging round the countryside at such a speed it's a mercy you haven't been killed.' 

'She came back slowly enough yesterday,' Mirabelle reminded her. 

'Yes, I'll give you that - bringing her back by boat was an excellent notion of Mr Lightning's. It's slowed her down, and when they brought her in last night I thought, "Well, that young lady's calmed down a bit, at least."' 

'She was very touched that you all stayed here late to see her brought into the house,' remarked Mirabelle. 

'Yes, well, we wanted to see she was all right,' Mrs Dorran hastened to excuse her curiosity. 'After all, now she's Mr Manfred's wife, she'll be mistress of this house.' 

Mirabelle didn't reply to this; she just raised her eyebrows, and sipped her tea. 

'You look just like Mr Lightning when you do that,' the cook told her, raising her own eyebrows in imitation of her. 'You're not happy about Mrs Manfred living here, are you?' 

'Not really,' answered Mirabelle. 'Leon doesn't trust her.' 

'Well, given the run-around she's given you all, I can't say as I blame him,' answered her colleague. 'But what about yourself, young Mirabelle? You've been manager in this house, haven't you? Since you came here last June you and I have kept this house going nicely, I'd say. All the tradesmen tell me that you pay them really regular, and all the orders are sent in good time, and it's all as it should be. But now that foreign woman has come here, there's you and me have our noses put out of joint.' 

'Now, Mrs Dorran,' said Mirabelle, smiling, 'we don't know that. She'll probably be happy for us to carry on running the house. She isn't very practical, you know; I don't think she'll want to do any managing.' 

'Then she'll go on running around and giving Mr Manfred nothing but trouble? Dear me, poor Mr Manfred. There's him such a nice gentleman, and he has to marry a hussy like her!'