THE MISTRESS OF CASTLE CRAGGE

CHAPTER SIX

                    CHAPTER SIX

Dorkins stood in the hall staring for another moment at the door through which his master had just gone. Then his lip curled disdainfully and he turned towards the baize door and stepped through into his own domain.

     He was not surprised to see his wife loitering in the passage beyond.

     ‘Eavesdropping again, Betty?’

     Betty Dorkins sniffed. ‘I have to. You never tell me anything.’

     ‘That is because it is none of your business.’

     Fred Dorkins walked past her and on into the kitchen. Betty followed on his heels.

     ‘Why didn’t you tell the master about the gentleman who call on the missus last Wednesday?’ she asked.

     ‘Because the missus asked me not to.’

     ‘Paid you, you mean.’

     Dorkins rounded on her. ‘Get my supper, woman, and keep your trap shut.’

     Betty gave another sniff of irritation. ‘It’s not right, it isn’t,’ she said. ‘Keeping the master in the dark. If you ask me the missus is nothing more than a hussy, and her a married woman.’

     ‘I said shut it!’ Dorkins snapped. ‘That’s the kind of talk as will get us the sack. We’re sitting very pretty here, and I don’t want anything spoiling it.’

     ‘Sitting pretty? Out in this backwater?’ Betty exclaimed. ‘We could do better for ourselves in London or even Truro where there’s a bit of life.’

     ‘It suits me here,’ Dorkins said. ‘Looks like it’s shaping up to be a profitable little situation.’ He smiled slyly. 'Yes, indeed!'

     Betty stared at him. ‘Fred! You’re not up to your old tricks again, are you?’

     ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

    ‘You know all right,’ Betty said in consternation. ‘Skimming here, skimming there. That’s how we lost our last place.’

     Dorkins gave a sneering smile. ‘The master is not going to boot us out for a halfpenny here or there. He has too much on his mind to care.’

     ‘What do you mean?’

    ‘If I was to tell you...’ he began and then stopped abruptly.

Looking at the expectant expression on her face he knew it would be a big mistake to tell his wife of his suspicions, even if they were almost certainties.

If church-going Betty once suspected that the master was not who he said he was and was also living in sin with the woman upstairs who he called his wife, she would be giving her notice in immediately.

He did not want that. There was profit to be made in their present situation; he could smell it. Skimming on the housekeeping was small stuff. He had his eye on much bigger game.

‘Tell me what, Fred?’

‘Nothing! Like I said, it’s none of your business.'

LONDON, STILL LATER THAT NIGHT

Archie Peacock swung into the portals of the Condor Club on Stamford Street as the clocks were striking half past eleven. The night porter in reception showed surprise at the sight of him.

     ‘Mr Peacock, sir, how good to see you again!’

     ‘Yes, I’m back, Simkins,’ Archie said cheerfully. ‘Back in the thick of things.’