Digging Up The Dirt

Hadley cocked his head to the side and regarded her with one of his patented slow smiles, designed to warm even the coldest heart. “I am here to stay, dear An’gel. Athena holds an attraction that, oddly enough, London doesn’t.”

He’s pouring it on a bit too thick. An’gel wanted to box his ears. Why is he singling me out like this?

Once again she felt hostile glances. She gazed coolly around the room with a silent challenge. The other women’s gazes dropped, and An’gel relaxed.

“We’re all delighted to hear that you’re staying,” Dickce said. “Though if I had to pick between London and Athena, well, there are plenty of days I’d rather be in London.”

Bless Sister for helping to break the tension. An’gel laughed. “Especially in August and September when it’s unbearably hot here.”

Barbie cleared her throat. “Time to get the meeting started. We really need to focus on the spring tour of homes. Now that we can include Ashton Hall I believe we can up the ticket prices by a few dollars. What do y’all think?”

“We’ve been charging twelve dollars for the past ten years for a single house tour,” Arliss said. “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t raise that to fifteen now. Three dollars isn’t that much.”

“I agree.” Reba nodded. “And ten for children under sixteen. That seems reasonable.”

“I agree,” An’gel said, and Dickce echoed her. An’gel went on. “What about the package prices? Fifty dollars for four houses?”

“Sounds fine to me,” Lottie said. “We need to increase our revenue. Preservation isn’t cheap, and some of us don’t have large bank accounts to pay for repairs to these old houses.” She cut a sly glance at An’gel and Dickce.

An’gel ignored Lottie’s remark. Lottie always liked to pretend she was the poorest member of the board, but An’gel knew Lottie was tight with money. Lottie’s home, The Oaks, stayed in excellent condition.

“We can use the same schedule we have for the past few years,” Barbie said. “What group should Ashton Hall be in? People will be excited since it hasn’t been shown for over thirty years.”

“Put it in the group with Riverhill,” Hadley said. “That’s the closest, and Fairleigh is the next closest in town.”

Sarinda brightened at the mention of her home. “Yes, I agree. It makes sense to group us together.” She smiled at Hadley. “I can’t wait to see Ashton Hall restored to its former glory.”

“The tour generally starts the first weekend in March.” An’gel looked at Hadley. “That gives you about four months to get the gardens and the house ready. Will you be able to do that?”

Hadley nodded. “I already have a team there inspecting the house and the gardens. The house mostly needs a good cleaning.” He grimaced. “I’m afraid Hamish was none too particular about housekeeping recently.”

“We’re going to need a few pictures for the website,” Barbie said. “How soon do you think we can get those?”

“I think I can find some suitable shots in the next few days,” Hadley said.

“I’ll be delighted to come over and help you look,” Reba said. “My son Martin—do you remember him, Hadley? He was about five when you left—anyway, he takes all the pictures for the website, and we can come over and scout around.”

Hadley shook his head. “Only vague memories, I’m afraid. I never paid much attention to children. I’m a more than decent photographer, if I do say so myself. I can take the pictures and send them. Who maintains the website?”

“Martin does,” Reba said. “It really wouldn’t be any trouble at all for us to take the pictures and save you the bother.”

“I appreciate your offer,” Hadley said. “But there are going to be so many workmen around the place that everything’s going to be chaos for a while. I think it’s better if I take the pictures myself.”

Reba shrugged. “Well, if you insist. I’ll give you Martin’s email address.”

Hadley had made it clear that he didn’t particularly want visitors, at least for now, An’gel decided. She wondered whether the others would take the hint, or whether there would soon be a steady stream of casserole dishes and congealed salads making their way to Ashton Hall. She and Dickce would invite him to dinner soon, though, because it was the proper thing to do.

All the other women in the room would issue invitations as well, she knew. She wondered how many of those invitations Hadley would accept. Perhaps he had reformed his ways and was no longer a playboy. She realized suddenly that no one had bothered to ask Hadley whether he was married, or had been.

At the moment she couldn’t think of a polite way to ask. She had noticed that Hadley’s left ring finger was bare, but that didn’t necessarily mean Hadley was single. Still, surely Hadley would have mentioned a wife or a girlfriend if he had brought a woman home with him.