The Riverboat Mystery (Jenny Starling #3)(15)

‘Well, let’s get at this breakfast,’ Lucas Finch said, a touch icily, giving Olney a rather speaking glance as he moved past him. Then, just as everyone, with varying shades of relief, turned to follow, he suddenly stopped and gave a loud piercing whistle.

Jenny was not the only one who jumped.

From the direction of the house came a long scarlet-and-blue streak, and a moment later the parrot headed unerringly for Lucas Finch’s shoulder. Jenny felt the slight breeze on her face as its wings whirled past her.

‘Oh, Lucas, do you have to bring that filthy thing along with you?’ Jasmine asked petulantly. ‘I’m sure I read somewhere that they carry some horrible, unpronounceable disease or something.’

The parrot, firmly settled on its master’s shoulder, turned and eyed Jasmine keenly. It cocked its head to one side.

‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist, love,’ it advised. Everybody laughed. Including Jasmine.

*

Jenny added a sprig of basil as a finishing touch to the plate of omelettes and then turned around, only to find Francis standing right behind her in the doorway. Once again, she hadn’t heard him enter. She managed not to jump.

He was dressed in white trousers (impeccably creased), a white jacket (impeccably ironed) and white tennis shoes (impeccably clean).

‘This is for Mrs Leigh,’ she said shortly, thrusting the tray into his waiting hands.

Francis didn’t bother to even nod, but turned silently and left. Jenny angrily dismissed the man from her thoughts. He was simply too pesky to be bothered with.

She checked her sausages, put the bread in to fry, and squeezed some more oranges. She added ice to the jug, and put it to one side. It wouldn’t be long before Francis discovered it and bore it away to table. In fact, she was rather glad that she wouldn’t have to serve at table. Jenny felt far happier in her kitchen. So even Francis had his uses, she reminded herself philosophically, and warned herself not to start making mountains out of molehills. There was no reason why they shouldn’t all have a perfectly pleasant river cruise.

The men chose to have both porridge and the full English breakfast, and after dishing these out, Jenny heaped a plate up for the captain, adding to his tray a mug of tea and some cutlery.

Since the galley was just to the left of the bridge (which was situated right at the front of the boat, on the lower deck), Jenny had the perfect excuse to take a look at it. It was the only part of the boat she hadn’t yet seen.

A tiny door in one corner led to the all-important room, and she knocked and opened it rather timidly.

Tobias Lester looked up, his face breaking into a smile at the sight of the steaming food. He was sitting in the room’s sole chair, which was at that moment tucked behind a tiny desk in one corner.

Jenny handed over the tray, then stood back and looked around. The room was much smaller than she’d thought, but it had a large wraparound window, giving the captain a splendid 180-degree view of his surroundings. Which could only be a good thing, she guessed. She supposed a lot of the smaller river craft and narrowboats that also used the river would find the Swan somewhat intimidating — especially if the owners thought the man steering the big paddle steamer couldn’t even see them! As far as she could tell there were no side mirrors like in a car to give him a view of what was behind him, and she wondered if that ever worried him.

It would certainly worry her!

In the centre of the small wooden room was a ship’s wheel. It was entirely made of wood, and was beautifully carved, with the typical large wooden handles that could spin it all the way around. And into her mind flashed all the seafaring pictures she had ever seen, where gallant ships’ captains spun the wheel helplessly as their ship battled the storm. She had to resist the infantile urge to mutter ‘hard to starboard, mate’ or ‘splice the mizzen mast.’

Not that she had the faintest idea what a mizzen mast was, or how to splice it.

‘Hmm, lovely,’ Tobias said appreciatively, dunking a sausage into the yolk of an egg. He had the tray balanced on his lap with all the ease of someone used to eating this way. ‘They all aboard then?’ he asked, looking amiably to the back of the boat, and the cook nodded.

‘Yes. All present and correct.’

Tobias smiled at the phrase, and then sighed. ‘Mind you, I don’t expect it will be all that jolly a jaunt,’ he muttered, more or less to himself, although he didn’t sound particularly concerned.

Jenny looked at him quickly. ‘Oh? No. I must say I thought they seemed a rather unlikely group.’

Tobias smiled but rather annoyingly merely shook his head, refusing to be drawn further.

But Jenny was not about to be put off so easily. ‘Mrs Olney in particular seemed rather out of place,’ she probed as delicately as she could, and Tobias gave her a quick, assessing look.

‘You don’t miss much, do you, Miss Starling?’ he said, but it was more of a statement than an accusation. ‘I noticed it about you yesterday. I said to Brian this morning, I did, that this new cook knows her onions in more ways than one.’

Jenny obligingly smiled at the weak joke, but said nothing. Tobias picked up a piece of fried bread, bit into it, caught the cook’s patiently waiting eye, and sighed.

‘Thing is, Mrs Olney’s a bit of a . . . well . . . a bit of . . . Anyway. The word is that she keeps a chap down in London,’ he finally coughed up.