Ann,” she said, sitting up in her chair. “Where is my nephew?

There had been a sharp frost that morning and there was an icy blast coming straight off the North Sea and down the river. Once on the road, the figure straightened up, revealing her face. Ann gasped. “It is Lady Cruickshank. She must have received my telegram.” She stood up and brushed down her skirts then ran to the mirror above the mantelpiece, sweeping her fingers through her hair and pinning up some straggly locks.

She sighed as she noticed her grey pallor, then pinched her cheeks to try to revive some colour.

“Why has she come? Has she news?” she muttered to herself.

The children ran over to her, excited. “Why is that lady here, Mamma? Does she have news of Papa?”

“I don’t know, but you two must remain up here while I receive her.”

Ann took a deep breath and looked at her hands; they were shaking. She opened the door then turned to her children.

“Play quietly, please. You ought not to be in the drawing room at all. She would expect children to be in the nursery.”

Shambling

Ann closed the door behind her and rushed to the top of the stairs; she looked down to see Mrs Baxter shambling along the hallway to the door.

“The morning room, Mrs Baxter! Put her in there.” Mrs Baxter looked up and nodded, stopping to remove her apron and ram it in a drawer in the hall.

“Bring tea!” Ann hissed, before shuffling backwards so that she could not be seen.

The door swung open. Mrs Baxter inclined her head and ushered in her master’s aunt.

“Please come this way, my lady. Mrs Craig shall be down presently.”

Ann peeked round the banister to watch Lady Cruickshank peel off her gloves, remove her cloak and thrust them at Mrs Baxter.

Ann appeared at the top step, nodded at the housekeeper and began her descent. She wondered what news she brought.

If it were good, why was her attire the black of mourning?

Ann entered the morning room and walked to the window where Lady Cruickshank, dressed in a dark tea gown, stood looking out on to the rose garden.

“It always surprises me that one’s gardeners must cut the roses back quite as much. And yet, every year in the summer months, they bloom with reliable certainty. Nature is a wondrous thing.”

She stretched out a hand and Ann took it, glancing up at the sexagenarian, whose lined face betrayed no emotion.

Ann’s hands were sweaty and all of a sudden she felt weak.

“Please sit down, Aunt Euphemia.” Ann gestured to the comfortable armchair by the fire. “Are you feeling better? You look well.”

She frowned. “I am always well, Ann, I never allow myself the indulgence of illness.”

She started to fan herself with her hand. “Fetch me a fan, will you. It is stifling in here.”

Ann handed her the fan from the table behind her then reached over the table for the bell and rang it. “Shall you take tea?”

“What’s that? Tea, yes. And cake.”

Ann sucked in a deep breath. She wished the woman would not treat her like a servant.

Sharp wind

Lady Cruickshank looked around and towards the window again. “That is an extremely sharp wind out there. But thank the good Lord Sunday’s storm abated.

“I had the impression our walls were to come tumbling down, like Jericho.” Her wrinkled face relaxed a little before the daunting expression returned.

“How was it on this side of the river on Sunday night? Dundee was struck most terribly I hear, and what a shock to have had the bridge come down.

“It took me such a long time to cross the river this morning. Fortunately I was only in Tayport, so only five minutes from the ferry journey over the river to Broughty Ferry.”

“So were you not...”

“Do you recall me telling my nephew about the rumours that the ferry drivers used to race the train drivers over the river?

“They used to watch each other and see who would reach the north shore first.

“He never concurred, he said trains were always faster than boats.

“But I said the races were dangerous, the trains were only meant to travel at a slow pace on the bridge, but men do like to compete.

“However, my ferry today was slow and calm, respectful.”

Lady Cruickshank paused for breath and Ann readied herself to ask a question, but her companion continued.

Susan Carter in the Archers which returns today with episodes made during lockdown. “

We have to run as fast as possible before the disease disappears so we can demonstrate that the vaccine is effective. Pascal Soriot, chief executive of drug maker AstraZeneca.

“And so there has been talk of the fact the train had been speeding over the bridge in such inclement weathers and that may have been what caused the terrible accident.”

A knock at the door brought a welcome interlude. Ann had forgotten how much her husband’s aunt liked to talk, even though she was rather deaf and heard little of what others said.

Mrs Baxter brought in a tray of tea and set it out on the table beside her.

“Thank you, Mrs Baxter.” Ann turned away, aware the housekeeper was still standing behind her. She had taken to doing that, trying to eavesdrop.

Ann shot her a stern look. “That will be all.” Ann cut the cake and began to pour the tea. “Aunt Euphemia, I presume you got my telegram?” The older lady swivelled round, the taffeta of her black gown rustling. She had clearly not heard the question.

“Ann,” she said, sitting up in her chair. “Where is my nephew?”

Delicate

The delicate china cup Ann had been placing on its saucer clattered down, spilling some tea. “What do you mean by that, Aunt Euphemia?” She raised her voice. “Did you not receive my telegram? It was sent on Monday afternoon.” Lady Cruickshank glared at her.

“I left Kirkmichael House on Monday after luncheon on hearing about the accident. Of course I had to be with Caroline in Tayport.

“My daughter was distraught and I had to be at her side,” she explained.

“She is perfectly fine now, her confinement is still some three months hence, but she was anxious and I ordered bed rest until she is calmer.

“I shall return there tonight once I have done this dreadful thing I must do. Which is why I need Robert. Will he be back soon?”

Ann leant back against the chair, aghast. “What ails you, child? Speak!”

Ann took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Aunt Euphemia, I had understood you were here as a result of the telegram I sent you.

“I asked if Robert was indeed on time for his usual train from Ladybank on Sunday evening, after his afternoon visit to Kirkmichael House.

“He had indicated you were unwell.” She paused. Aunt Euphemia’s expression was inscrutable.

More tomorrow.