Save for its size and the novelty of the
fireplace, it was an ordinary kitchen, complete to red-checked curtains
at the windows. Pleasant and homey, Val thought rather wistfully. But
that was before the coming of that night when Ricky walked in the garden
and he heard something stir in the Long Hall--which should have been
empty--
"Val! Rupert!" A cry which started valiantly became a wail as it echoed
through empty rooms. "Where are yo-o-ou!"
"Here, in the kitchen," Val shouted back.
A moment later Ricky stood in the doorway, her face flushed and her
usually correct curls all on end.
"Mean, selfish, utterly selfish pigs!" she burst out. "Leaving me all
alone in the dark! And it's so dark!"
"We just went down to turn on the lights," Val began.
"So I see." With a sniff she looked about her. "It took two of you to do
that. But it only required one of me to make three beds. Well, this is a
warning to me. Next time--" she did not finish her threat. "I suppose
you want some supper?"
Rupert was already at the cupboards. "That," he agreed, "is the general
idea."
"Beans or--" Ricky's hand closed upon Val's arm with a nipper-like grip.
"What," her voice was a thin thread of sound, "was that?"
Above the steady beat of the rain they heard a noise which was half
scratch, half thud. Under Rupert's hand the latch of the cupboard
clicked.
"Back door," he said laconically.
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