What Happens In Tuscany.... T A Williams

them. The rider peeled off in the direction of the house before Katie could get a clear look at her. She registered that is was a female figure, dressed in impeccable white breeches and shiny black boots, but she and the horse quickly disappeared from sight. The car followed the avenue as it weaved between the ancient trees. By the time the big vehicle crunched across the gravel in front of the house, there was no sign of the horse or its rider.

      ‘Was that Miss Victoria?’ Katie looked up at Mr Mackintosh as he jumped out to open the door for her. He nodded briefly.

      ‘Yes, Miss. I imagine she’s gone round to the stable yard with Thumper.’

      ‘That’s the name of her horse?’

      ‘That’s the name of the horse she was riding this afternoon. She has a string of horses to suit her mood.’

      ‘Does she have a lot of different moods?’ There was a pause before Mr Mackintosh risked a response.

      ‘She has not had an easy life, Miss, in spite of all this.’ He waved a gloved hand in the general direction of the manor house. ‘I’m sure she will tell you herself.’

      Katie climbed out and went round to retrieve her luggage, but Mackintosh had preceded her. ‘That’s all right, Miss. I’ll see that these go up to your room. Here’s Mrs Milliner. She’ll look after you.’

      A maternal-looking woman who could have been mid-fifties, or maybe a shade older, appeared from the main door of the house and made her way nimbly down the steps towards them. She nodded approvingly as she saw Mr Mackintosh with Katie’s bags and gave him his instructions. ‘The young lady will be in the Green Room. If you would be so kind, Mr Mackintosh…’

      He grunted assent and headed for the house. Mrs Milliner turned her attention to Katie, who was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the place and the formality of the staff members. As Mrs Milliner extended her hand towards her, she felt quite apprehensive. The handshake, however, was gentle and an equally gentle smile spread across the woman’s face. ‘Welcome to Iddlescombe Manor, Miss Parr. I’m Mrs Milliner.’ She supplied no details of her job description but Katie had definitely got the impression by now that Mrs Milliner was in charge. She did her best to reply in a strong voice.

      ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Milliner. My name is Katherine, but everybody calls me Katie.’

      ‘Very good, Miss Katie. Now, if you would like to come along with me, I’ll show you to your room.’ Katie walked with her up the front steps. Two massive stone lions guarded the doors, which were a masterpiece of elaborate carving. A fine brass letterbox was set into the woodwork, shining brightly as only regularly polished brass can do. A massive metal rod and handle hung down to one side of the doors, presumably to act as the doorbell. Mrs Milliner stood to one side and motioned Katie inside.

      The entrance hall and the monumental staircase were awe-inspiring, studded with fine oil paintings and stags’ heads bristling with antlers. The corridor leading to her room was wider than the lane leading up the valley to the house and, beneath the thick strip of carpet, the broad wooden floorboards creaked as they walked along. Mrs Milliner accompanied her along the corridor without comment, and Katie began to feel more and more nervous. There was no sign of Miss Victoria. Maybe she was changing after her ride. As they reached the room, Katie summoned up the courage to attempt conversation.

      ‘Is Miss Victoria’s room along here as well?’

      Mrs Milliner’s reply was friendly enough. ‘Yes, indeed. I’m sure she’ll show you round herself this evening. Dinner will be served at seven o’clock.’ She turned the handle and pushed the door open. Stepping back, she ushered Katie into a massive room. ‘Your bathroom is through that door over there and your dressing room is beyond the arch on the other side of the bed.’ Katie had never had a dressing room before and wasn’t totally sure what it was used for. Surely you didn’t need a whole room just to get dressed? The bed itself was an enormous wooden structure, the size of a couple of table tennis tables. Two windows looked straight out over the park and gardens. It was a remarkable place with a remarkable view.

      ‘How absolutely lovely, Mrs Milliner. What a room!’ The awe in Katie’s voice was clear to hear. ‘Are all the rooms here as luxurious as this?’

      Mrs Milliner paused for thought before replying. ‘All the principal bedrooms, yes. There are twelve of those. The other bedrooms are maybe a little smaller, but they’re all of a similar style.’

      ‘So do many people live in the house?’

      ‘Only Miss Victoria, myself and a couple of maids. And now, of course, you too.’

      ‘Only five of us in this huge place?’ Katie could hardly believe it. Mrs Milliner gave her another little smile.

      ‘Yes, Miss Katie, just the five of us. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be feeling crowded here. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to see that dinner is coming along well. I’ll get one of the girls to bring you up a pot of tea.’

      Katie protested weakly, but to no avail. Five minutes later there was a tap on the door. Before Katie could get across to open it, the handle turned and a ginger-haired woman in a black uniform and crisp white apron brought in a tray.

      ‘Tea, Miss Katie?’

      The “girl” was probably five or ten years older than Katie, who was beginning to get a bit fed up with the constant addition of “Miss” to her name. ‘Just “Katie” is fine. There’s no need for the “Miss”. What’s your name?’

      ‘Rosie, Mis…Katie.’ The maid was busy unloading a silver teapot, milk jug, plates, biscuits and a huge slice of what looked suspiciously like freshly-made sponge cake. Finally Rosie deposited the last item and straightened up. ‘If there’s anything else you require, just press the bell by your bedside.’ She extended a finger towards a large enamel knob protruding from the wall. Like the letterbox, the surround was solid, well-polished brass. By the time Katie had registered the existence of the button, the maid had slipped silently out of the room. Katie checked the time on her phone against the hands of the exquisite old clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost six.

      There was another tap on the door. This time she made it across to the handle before it turned. It was Mr Mackintosh with her bags. He brought them in and set them on a low bench designed for luggage.

      ‘Will there be anything else, Miss?’

      Katie shook her head, thanked him, and he withdrew.

      Over the next hour she unpacked her things, showered and changed. She kept on checking the time on her phone until it was one minute to seven. She stood up and ran her hands down her sides, glancing at her reflection in the enormous floor to ceiling mirror. She had changed into the most formal skirt she had brought and was feeling rather conspicuous. She was also feeling really quite nervous.

      She put her phone down on the table and prepared to go downstairs for dinner. Apart from telling the time, the phone was quite useless here. There appeared to be no mobile signal and no internet connection. She took a deep breath and went out into the corridor and along to the massive staircase. As she walked down the last few steps into the hall, Rosie appeared as if by magic and led her to the dining room. The door was already open and Miss Victoria was standing by the empty fireplace.

      Katie stopped on the threshold and studied the scene. Her first reaction was one of surprise, accompanied by relief. Miss Victoria, far from being an elderly lady, was probably about the same age as she was. She hurried across to meet her new employer, whose hand was already extended in her direction.

      ‘Good evening. You are Katherine Parr?’ Miss Victoria sounded friendly, if a bit formal. Her accent would not have sounded out of place in Buckingham Palace or Made in Chelsea. As if reading Katie’s mind, she added, ‘And do you have royal lineage?’ She was smiling broadly now. Katie had had this remark made about her name often enough to recognise it.

      ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Victoria. And I’m Katherine Parr with a “K”, not a “C”. I’m not the reincarnation of Henry