Chapter 12

Sure enough, about quarter of an hour after Henry and Samantha had left, a Mondeo drew up outside the Cavendish's front door and Mr Jacobs rang the bell. Henrietta, flanked by two yapping terriers answered it. She quietened them down taking in the Mondeo parked in the drive.

"Good morning, Mr Jacobs," she said. "My son rang and warned me that you might turn up. I suggest you turn round and drive away again."

The dogs picked up her tone of voice and began to growl.

"Good morning, Lady Cavendish, I won't take more than a few minutes of your time."

"I have nothing to say to you. Please go away."

"Lady Cavendish, I..."

"Please go away." Her voice was louder. So was the growling of the terriers.

"Lady Cavendish..."

"Go away." The last syllable was sharply accentuated and the terriers took that as their signal and went for Mr Jacobs's ankles.

He gave a howl of pain and outrage.

"Drop!" commanded Henrietta. The terriers did so but their growls were now high pitched, nasal snarls.

"I shall sue you for wounding," yelped Jacobs.

"Do," said Henrietta equably, "and I shall sue you for trespass. Now hop it and you can tell your associates that they're not wanted here either."

Jacobs hurried back to his car. The terriers continued to snarl. The wheels spun as he drove away.

Henrietta stood where she was until the car went round the bend in the drive and then bent down to the terriers.

"Good girls," she said stroking their heads. "Did you enjoy that? There may be more later if you're lucky."

Rupert's Land Rover came slowly up the drive. He leant out of the window as he turned to drive round to the back of the house.

"Who was that?" he asked. "He seemed in an awful hurry."

"A reporter. Pip and Squeak dealt with him."

Rupert grinned. "Did Lady Cavendish bite him too?"

Lady Cavendish made a rude gesture and they both roared with laughter.

"See you in a minute," he said and drove on round the back.

Henrietta went back into the house.

"He's going to want beer," she thought. "Looking over heifers is such thirsty work."

She handed it to him as he came in. He kissed her.

"Thank you, my darling," he smiled at her. "I think you may be worth keeping after all. So, tell me what all that was about."

She did so starting with Henry's telephone call.

"I never did like Marty," he said, "even before the divorce. I rather hope that he's stupid enough not to apologise and then Ian can really do him over. Poor little Samantha though."

"I wouldn't worry too much about her," said Henrietta. "Her dander's well and truly up. I almost feel sorry for that ass Marty."

"I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of the press. I think I'll close and lock the gate then we can threaten them with trespass if they come past it. Tom and Bert won't need to go out the front way. I must warn them though. Are you planning to go out in the next couple of days?"

"I was planning to go and see the children the day after tomorrow but that can wait. I will need to go and get some groceries on Thursday."

"Won't they deliver?"

"I suppose so but it's so tedious when they get the order wrong."

"Rather like when you forget something," teased Rupert.

She smiled benignly at him. "Watch it, my boy."

Rupert blew her a raspberry and they both laughed.

"With any luck," he said, "it'll have blown over by then."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"I might get Bert to do the odd patrol down at the gate with that bull terrier of his. The word will soon get round that Jacobs got noshed and Basher's got a bigger bite than Pip and Squeak have."

"If you want night patrols as well you'll have to involve someone else."

"True. Terry Wright might turn out with his Alsatian. I'll give him a ring later."

"Henry reckoned they'd start coming down here when they realise that he and Samantha won't be coming back to the flat."

"Eight here at the earliest."

The press did arrive but not until the next morning. At half past eight the telephone from the gate rang. Rupert answered it.

"Is that Henry Cavendish?"

"No."

"May I speak to him?"

"No."

"Is he staying there?"

"No."

"Is that Sir Rupert Cavendish?"

"Yes."

"May I have a word with you?"

"No. Good morning."

Rupert put the telephone down but left it off the hook.

The house telephone rang. Rupert answered it again.

"Hello, Rupert. It's Stella. Your gate's locked and there's a mob of people here. Have you stirred up a repeat of the Peasants' Revolt?"

Rupert laughed. "No, Stella dear. It's the press. They're after the children."

"Oh poor things! It's just that I've got some jam for Henrietta which I promised but it can wait."

"Can you wait ten minutes and we'll lay on a little demonstration."

Stella chuckled. "That might be rather fun. I'll wait."

"Thanks, Stella. I'll make sure there's some coffee waiting for you."

Rupert walked out the back to the farm where he found Bert with Basher nearby. The dog came over and greeted him.

"Hello, Basher." He fondled his ears. "Bert, Mrs Mainwaring has come round to deliver some of her home made jam to my wife. Would you take Basher down to the gate with you and let her in. While you're at it let the gentlemen of the press see his teeth but for Heaven's sake don't let him chew one of them up."

Bert grinned delightedly. "On my way, Sir Rupert," he said.

Quarter of an hour later a beaming Stella Mainwaring arrived at the house carrying a basket full of jam jars. She kissed Rupert and Henrietta on the cheeks.

"That was worth waiting for. Bert came marching down the drive with that bull terrier of his on a lead. He ordered the press to stand back to let me through. He sounded very military."

"He was a sergeant in the Duke of Edinburgh's Royal Regiment before it was amalgamated," chipped in Rupert.

"Ah! Anyway they behaved like lambs until he was closing the gate behind me when one of them stepped forward to say he wanted to come in too.

"'Why?' asked Bert.

"'To speak to Henry and Samantha.'

"'They're not here.'

"'Sir Rupert or Lady Cavendish then?'

"'Have you got an invitation?'

"'Er no but... '

"'You're not coming in then.'

"The chap was stupid enough to step forward. The dog gave the most blood-curdling growl and bared its teeth and the chap stepped backwards so quickly that he tripped and fell over. Someone moved forward to help him up and the dog went up on its hind legs making even more noise. He backed off and the first chap scrambled to his feet and got away. Bert told the dog to sit which it did.

"'Anyone else wanting to come in?' he asked.

"There was utter silence. 'Right, ' said Bert, locked the gate, nodded to them and turned away. He raised his cap to me and marched back up the drive. It was brilliant."

"Well done, Bert," said Henrietta. "I might even give him one of your pots of jam. I know Hilda would be pleased."

"He's a good egg," said Rupert. "Just as well they don't know that Basher wouldn't hurt a fly unless of course he reckoned someone was going to attack Bert or Hilda."