The Spring Cleaning Murders Read Online Free Page B

blinked his eyes and looked abashed at having nodded off. “Please, Freddy, do not hound Mrs. Large for information. She may not work for any of the new people. Mrs. Malloy told me the Misses Miller had hired Trina McKinnley. Anyway, Mrs. Large is going to have her hands full helping to get me organized, without feeding your fantasies.”
    Unwilling to be ignored any longer, Tam turned his eggshell upside down in its cup, stuck out his chin, and said, “I wefuse to eat my egg.” This was a favourite game, and having invented it, I knew my lines.
    “Oh, you naughty boy!” I scolded, face solemn, hands on hips. “Whatever would Daddy say if he knew I had gone to all the trouble of making you a nice breakfast and you haven’t taken a tiny bite? Well, no mid-morning snack for you. Only good little boys get a chocolate biscuit.”
    “Tricked you, Mummy!” Tam triumphantly turned the eggshell back over to display the empty inside. “I fool you every time, don’t I?”
    Assuring him he was a master trickster, I gave him a hug, which he returned along with a smacking kiss on my cheek before bounding off to join his sister, who was busily engaged in emptying the toy box. Again my eyes went to the clock. It was now almost ten past nine. Mrs. Large was late. Something surely against the rules of the Magna Char. I was just pouring myself a cup of tea when there was a knock at the garden door and in she walked.
    “Morning, all.” Her voice was deep and gruff and—as might be expected—she was definitely a big woman. A good six feet tall, with a long, lugubrious face and a plodding walk. Abbey and Tam scampered behind the rocking chair as if she were a member of the household police, Jonas vouchsafed a mumbled greeting before burying his face in his cup, and Freddy was trying not to laugh.
    “Mrs. Large!” The twins had now attached themselves to my legs so that I was able to take only minuscule steps, in the manner of someone auditioning for a part in The Mikado. “I’m so pleased you’re here.”
    “Sorry to be late.” Her deep-set eyes took in the chaotic kitchen without batting a lash. “Had one of my bad nights.” She set her bag of supplies down on the floor with a thump. I distinctly heard the clink of bottles, and obviously she did, too. “No, it wasn’t drink that done it, Mrs. Haskell. I’m not one for booze, never have been. I just come down with one of my bad heads. Suffer with them cruel at times. Doctor calls them tension headaches.”
    “Oh, dear!” I was about to suggest that she go home to bed and come another day. But it became clear she was a woman made of sterner stuff. Peeling off her grey flannel coat as if it were a banana skin, she hung it on a peg in the alcove by the garden door and rolled up her sleeves before I could clear my throat.
    “How about a cup of tea?” I offered.
    “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Haskell.” The words rumbled off her tongue, causing Abbey to leap for safety in Freddy’s arms. “But I’ve not come here on my holidays. ‘Hard work keeps a body strong’ has always been my motto.” Appearing to wrap her arms around the length and breadth of the kitchen table, she gathered up the breakfast dishes in one mighty swoop. A couple of cups chattered in alarm, but the whole was safely transported over to the sink.
    “The woman’s a human forklift.” Freddy may have thought he was whispering, but his voice came at me like a ball, bouncing against my head.
    “A bloody marvel, but I don’t want n’owt in my room touched,” Jonas growled, every hair of his moustache twitching.
    “Did you hear that, Mrs. Large?” I caroled cheerily. “There’s no need for you to bother with Mr. Phipps’s room. He likes to do it himself.”
    “He’s afraid you’ll find his girlie pictures,” Freddy piped up again.
    “You get to see a lot of stuff likely to make your eyeballs pop in my line of work,” Mrs. Large pronounced mournfully over the water running into the sink.