The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

32 The Death Knell

The night sky was clear, and star filled as April walked Smokey in the yard. They were returning to the Lodge when the bells of St. Dunstan's church began to ring. Do they ring the passing bell more than once? she wondered. She turned and headed to the barn where Bill was working. The last bell rang, and the night was silent.

She found Bill checking on the animal feed. "Bill, did you hear the bells?" she asked.

"Aye, Mrs. Waverly. The death knell for Lord Kennet, may he rest in peace."

April nodded. "I'll look for the funeral notice, see where to send flowers, or whatever they request."

"Aye," said Bill. "My wife said she would come in tomorrow, under the circumstances, if you like."

"That's up to her. Just have her text me. I'll be out in the morning to get the orders for feed or whatever else we need." They talked for a few minutes about the farm before she went to the Lodge.

***

April went down the creaking staircase very early the next morning, Smokey at her heels. She smelled bacon cooking and coffee. Mrs. Bigwood had gotten in early. She yawned as she entered the kitchen, an found Mrs. Bigwood wearing an apron, hair in the usual bun on her head, making her appear even taller. A bowl of eggs sat on the counter.

Chopped potatoes sizzled in a large pan for the hash browns the Americans liked so much. Mrs. Bigwood stirred them and turned the heat down. "Morning, Mrs. Waverly," she said. "I'm making soup for lunch today. My cousin is the head cook at Lord Kennet's. He's asked me to come over tomorrow to help prepare for the guests. If you don't mind."

"Of course, I don't. Just let me know when you'll be back."

"I can call Beatrice and ask her to come every day for the rest of the week."

"That works," said April. "Please do that."

"How do you want your eggs?"

"Scrambled, please. I'm going to walk Smokey first. I'll only be a few minutes." She led the dog out the door.

Coffee and tea were ready in the dining room when she returned. The usual rack of cold toast was waiting. April sighed and selected a piece of cold, whole-wheat toast. She scraped cold butter on cold toast. She thought, I wonder if London Bridge would fall if I put a second toaster in the dining room so we could have hot toast to butter. She'd suggested as much to Mrs. Bigwood one breakfast as she dabbed bits of cold butter on hard toast and spread orange marmalade over the lumps.

"A toaster? In the dining room?" Mrs. Bigwood looked as if April suggested keeping chickens in the kitchen to lay fresh eggs. "We have a toaster in the kitchen," she said firmly and with finality. She might have added, "where it belongs." Subject closed.

She sat down just as Mrs. Bigwood brought in a plate with eggs, bacon and potatoes and placed it before her. April ate her cold toast with her eggs. She ate heartily, then checked online for news of Lord Kennet's passing. Nothing.

***

Ben was in the office when she went to work, and they worked until noon, when they stopped for lunch. She deliberately didn't ask Ben about Anabel or her father, not wanting to get involved in whatever was happening in their relationship. She had the impression Anabel was not interested in getting back with him after New Year's Eve.

After lunch she checked the news again, and found a short listing of Lord Kennet's passing in the local news. The funeral would be on January 4 at St. Dunstan's. She wondered if she should attend. Maybe Mrs. Bigwood could advise her.

When lunch was finished, she put the dishes in the dishwasher and filled her travel mug with coffee. Nala had a checkup with the vet and she offered to take the cat, since Ben had an appointment. Ben put Nala in her crate and April left.

Sherry Musselwhite was at the front desk. "Hello, Mrs. Waverly, how is Smokey doing?"

"He's fine. Nala hasn't been eating well lately; that's why I brought her in. How are you and your family getting on?" She liked the stocky, middle-aged woman, always even-tempered, and good with people and animals. Today, she had a box of kittens behind her counter. As April watched, one kitten scrambled out of the box and ran under the desk. Another crouched and drank milk from a bowl.

"We're carrying on. Still waiting for the police to release Mark's body."

"Of course. Mrs. Bigwood says your son has come to stay with you."

"Eddie came back from Manchester, where he worked in a zoo. Vet assistant. He wanted to be a vet, but schooling is expensive. He also grooms animals on the side. Makes good money."

"I would think so. "Geoff is taking a few days off for the funeral. Lord Kennet was his father's cousin. If you'll take a seat, we'll call you in shortly.

April sat in a chair, Nala's crate on the seat beside her. There was one other patient in a covered birdcage, held by an elderly man. Soon Sherry sent April to an exam room.

April put Nala's crate on the exam table, and shook hands with Eunice Goodbody, one of the vets in the practice. She opened the crate and gently took Nala out.

Eunice examined Nala carefully. Finally, she said, "There's nothing wrong with her except old age. She's shutting down. A few weeks maybe. She's not in pain, so if you want to take her home, you might. Otherwise, you should consider putting her down."

April hesitated. "She's not exactly my cat. Sir Drew left her to Ben. I'll take her home then. He can decide if he wants her to live out her days at Oakton." She thanked Eunice and left with Nala.

At the Lodge, April put the cat in the office, which was set up for her care and comfort. The cat was too weak to jump up on her favorite chair, so April pushed a small stool by it. Nala climbed on the stool, then the chair, and curled up.

When Ben returned that night, she told him the vet's diagnosis. He went to the office and knelt by Nala, still on her chair. He petted her for a long time, gently, and scratched her ears. The cat purred.

April hadn't realized Ben was so fond of Nala. Or that Nala seemed to prefer him as she'd preferred Drew Ramsey. She'd been Drew's cat for 18 years. A different side to him, she thought. Pity he doesn't care so much for people.