Busman’s Honeymoon

‘So ’e is-sleeps over the wireless business. But you’d ’ave a job ter get him, I reckon, ’im being’ a bit deaf and the bell ringin’ inter the shop. Your best way’ll be ter run over ter Pagford an’ git Aggie Twitterton.’

‘The lady who keeps hens?’

‘That’s ’er. You mind the little cottage down by the river, miss-mum, I should say-where old Blunt useter live?

Well, that’s it, an’ she’s got a key to the ’ouse-comes over ter see ter things w’en ’e’s away, though, come ter think of it, I ain’t seen ’er this last week. Maybe she’s poorly, because, come ter think of it, if ’e knowed you was coming it’s Aggie Twitterton ’e’d a-told about it.’

‘I expect that’s it,’ said Harriet. ‘Perhaps she meant to let you know, and got ill and couldn’t see to it. We’ll go over. Thank you very much. Do you think she could let us have a loaf of bread and some butter?’

‘Bless you, miss-mum-I can do that. I got a nice loafer bread, ’ardly touched, and ’arf a pound er butter at ’ome this mi

‘Lady Peter Wimsey,’ said Harriet, feeling not at all sure that it was her name.

‘I never!’ said Mrs Ruddle. ‘That’s wot ’e said’-she jerked her head at Bunter-‘but I didn’t pay no ’eed to ’im. Begging your pardon, mum, but there’s some of these commercial fellers ’ud say anythink, wouldn’t they, sir?’

‘Oh, we all have to pay heed to Bunter,’ said Wimsey. ‘He’s the only really reliable person in the party. Now, Mrs Ruddle, we’ll run over to get the keys from Miss Twitterton and be back in twenty minutes. Bunter, you’d better stay here and give Mrs Ruddle a hand with the things. Is there room to turn?’

‘Very good, my lord. No, my lord. I fancy there is not room to turn. I will open the gate for your lordship. Allow me, my lord. Your lordship’s hat.’

‘Give it to me,’ said Harriet, Peter’s hands being occupied with the ignition switch and the self-starter.

‘Yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady.’

‘After which,’ said Peter, when they had reversed through the gate and were once again headed for Great Pagford, ‘Bunter will proceed to make it quite plain to Mrs Ruddle-in case she hasn’t grasped the idea-that Lord and Lady Peter Wimsey are my lord and lady. Poor old Bunter! Never have his feelings been so harrowed. Film-actors, by the look of you! No better than you should be! These commercial fellers will say anythink!’

‘Oh, Peter! I wish I could have married Bunter. I do love him so.’

‘Bride’s Wedding-Night Confession; Titled Clubman Slays Valet and Self. I’m glad you take to Bunter-I owe him a lot… Do you know anything about this Twitterton woman we’re going to see?’

‘No-but I’ve an idea there was an elderly labourer of that name in Pagford Parva who used to beat his wife or something. They weren’t Dad’s patients. It’s fu

‘Dashed fu

‘Simcox? Oh, the agent, yes?’

‘He was surprised to find the place going so cheap. It’s true it was only the house and a couple of fields-Noakes seems to have sold part of the property. I paid Noakes last Monday, and the cheque was cleared in London on Thursday, I shouldn’t wonder if another bit of clearing was done at the same time.’

‘What?’

‘Friend Noakes. It doesn’t affect our purchase of the house-the title is all right and there’s no mortgage; I made sure of that. The fact that there was no mortgage cuts both ways. If he was in difficulties, you’d expect a mortgage; but if he was in great difficulties, he might have kept the property free for a quick sale. He kept a bicycle shop in your day. Was he ever in difficulties with that?’

‘I don’t know. I think he sold it and the man who bought it said he’d been cheated. Noakes was supposed to be pretty sharp over a bargain.’

‘Yes. He got Talboys dirt cheap, I fancy, from what Simcox said. Got some kind of squeeze on the old people and put the brokers in. I’ve an idea he was fond of buying and selling things as a speculation.’

‘He used to be spoken of as a warm man. Always up to something.’

‘All sorts of little enterprises, h’m? Picking things up cheap on the chance of patching ’em up for resale at a profit-that sort?’

‘Rather that sort.’

‘Um. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. There’s a London tenant of mine who started twenty years ago with a few second-hand oddments in a cellar. I’ve just built him a very handsome block of flats with sunshine balconies and vita-glass and things. He’ll do very well with them. But then he’s a Jew, and knows exactly what he’s doing. I shall get my money back and so will he. He’s got the knack of making money turn over. We’ll have him to di

Harriet asked a question or two, which her husband answered, but in so abstracted a tone that she realized he was giving only about a quarter of his mind to the virtuous Jew of London and none of it to herself. He was probably mulling over the mysterious behaviour of Mr Noakes. She was quite accustomed to his sudden withdrawals into the recesses of his own mind, and did not resent them. She had known him stop short in the middle of a proposal of marriage to her because some chance sight or sound had offered him a new piece to fit into a criminal jig-saw. His meditations did not last long, for within five minutes they were ru

Chapter II. Goosefeather Bed

But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,

That hath not been talk’d of yet.

– Drayton: Eighth Nimphall

The cottage, which had three yellow brick sides and a red-brick front, like the uglier kind of doll’s house, stood rather isolated from the town, so that it was perhaps not unreasonable in Miss Twitterton to interrogate her visitors in sharp and agitated tones from an upper window, as to their intentions and bona fides, before cautiously opening the door to them. She revealed herself as a small, fair am flustered spinster in her forties, wrapped in a pink fla

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Miss Twitterton, leading the way into a sittingroom furnished with a suite in green velvet and walnut veneer, and a surprising variety of knickknacks, ‘for receiving you like this-do please sit down. Lady Peter-I do hope you will both forgive my attire-dear me!-but my house is a little lonely and it’s only a short time ago since my hen-roost was robbed-and really, the whole thing is so inexplicable. I scarcely know what to think-it really is most upsetting-so peculiar of uncle-and what you must be thinking of both of us I ca