Unsuitable Men by Pippa Wright Read Free Book Online

sink.
    ‘Now, Percy,’ she said, briskly. ‘I’m just going to rinse off this shampoo and then it will be as if nothing ever happened, yes? And then I will call a plumber who will
sort out the pipes so this doesn’t happen again, and you will apologize to Eleanor.’
    ‘Over my dead body,’ muttered Percy, lowering his head into the porcelain sink. He stopped grumbling as Auntie Lyd ladled warm water from the washing-up bowl over his head, rinsing
away the offending bubbles. The soothing sound of the water splashing into the sink brought calm to the kitchen at last.
    ‘It quite reminds me of being a child,’ said Eleanor, from her perch. ‘Watching my mother wash my little brother in the sink.’
    ‘My mother used to do the same,’ Percy’s voice echoed from inside the sink. ‘I still remember waiting my turn with my sister as the kettle warmed up.’
    Auntie Lyd smiled at me over Percy’s bent back as Eleanor and Percy engaged in a conversation of gently competitive nostalgia – who had been the last to get indoor plumbing (Percy),
who had had to go to school in their brother’s shoes (Eleanor), how young people today had no idea how lucky they were. Percy’s accusations were all but forgotten. Shortly afterwards we
were all sitting at the wooden table, sharing a pot of tea.
    ‘Well, it might have been an earlier start than I’m used to,’ said Auntie Lyd, ‘but it’s worked out rather nicely, sitting here all together like this, hasn’t
it? It’s nice to catch up with you before work, Rory.’
    ‘Aurora, dear,’ said Eleanor, turning her pale eyes towards me. ‘Your aunt says that you are terribly important at Country House magazine these days. Features editor, is
it?’
    ‘Oh, er, not quite,’ I said. ‘Just deputy features editor.’
    ‘“Just” deputy?’ declared Percy. ‘No such thing as “just” a deputy. Did dear Paul Scofield say that I was “just” his understudy? Did the
audience say I was “just” Pericles, Prince of Tyre, when I had to take on the matinée performance? No! “Deputy” means you are ready and able to step into the breach
at a moment’s notice – there is no “just” about it.’
    Eleanor rolled her eyes at Auntie Lyd, who stared back with the expression of non-committal blankness that she habitually adopted in the face of strong provocation from both sides.
    ‘I’m not sure it’s quite A Star is Born at Country House ,’ I said, smiling into my tea at the idea that I might some day take over from our Martha in a wild
burst of applause and glory, instead of to general indifference.
    ‘I’m sure you are already quite the star, dear,’ said Eleanor politely. ‘Are you working on anything interesting right now?’
    ‘Rory has her own column, don’t you, Rory?’ said Auntie Lyd. ‘Behind the Rope – all about the hidden highlights of stately homes. I have back issues of every Country House since she started it – they’re all stacked up in the living room if you want to have a read.’
    ‘What, that big pile of magazines that Mr Bits’s bed is balanced on?’ asked Percy.
    ‘The very same. Just shove him off if you’d like to see one. I recommend June 2010 on the electric tablecloth at Castle Drogo,’ she said. ‘Fascinating.’
    I stared at her. I’d had no idea that Auntie Lyd even knew I wrote a column, let alone that she had bought the magazine every month to see it. My own mother had never had much interest in Country House , and if Dad read it then he had never bothered to say so, but as we were only in touch a few times a year that wasn’t a great surprise. Martin, I probably do not need to
tell you, thought my column amusing and trivial but failed to see the point of it, much as, I was beginning to realize, he had pretty much failed to see the point of me.
    Auntie Lyd smiled back. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Porridge, everyone?’
    Eleanor said she wasn’t hungry, and Percy leapt on her, claiming if it weren’t for the