‘Can I help you?’
The person standing in the doorway isn’t at all what Philip expected. She’s too young for a start, at least fifty years too young. ‘Isn’t this Betty Graften’s place?’
‘Sure it is.’ The young woman smiles. ‘I’m Martha, Miss Betty’s help. I’m new, started just last week, so I don’t know many people around here yet. Are you friends of hers?’
‘I’m Rick, an old friend of Miss Betty’s,’ says Rick, smiling as he removes his shades and props them on the top of his head. He gestures to Philip. ‘And this is my friend Philip. It’s been a while since I last visited with Miss Betty, a month at least. Is she free for visitors this morning?’
Martha nods. ‘I’m sure that’ll be no problem. Why don’t the pair of you come on into the great room and take a seat. Then I’ll go find Miss Betty.’ Martha leans towards Rick, lowering her voice. ‘She’s in the backyard, tending her roses. Can’t have a single one that’s gone at all brown or wilted, and with this heat, well . . .’ Martha shakes her head. ‘She won’t let me help out, you know how she can be.’
Rick laughs. ‘That I do.’
Philip follows behind Rick as Martha leads them to the great room. Now he’s had a chance to have a proper look at her, he realises he should have guessed she worked rather than lived here – her outfit is a loose-fitting pink tunic and trousers, like nurses wear, and she has one of those little upside-down watches attached to her tunic so she can see the time when she looks down.
‘Here you go,’ says Martha, opening the door to a large, light lounge. ‘Here’s the great room, please take a seat and I’ll go fetch Miss Betty for y’all.’
Philip thanks her and steps into the room. It’s huge; you could fit half of his and Lizzie’s home in this room alone. ‘Blimey,’ he says under his breath.
‘Yep,’ says Rick, perching his bulk on a dainty-looking chaise longue. ‘Miss Betty was heir to a cookie fortune and when her father died she took over as chief executive, even though that was in a time when it was almost unheard of to have a female in the top job. She diversified the company, expanded the brand, increased their profits and made them into the household name they are now. Then, and it must only have been five years ago, she moved to be chair of the board and appointed a new chief executive. That’s when she moved here. She’s one hell of a lady.’
Philip’s impressed. It can’t have been easy running a company as a woman back then, and from the clean lines and stylish furnishings in this room he can see she’s a person of great taste. He’s looking forward to meeting Betty Graften. ‘How did you . . .’
He stops talking as the door to the great room opens, and he stares at the woman who enters. She’s taller than he expected – around five foot ten at least – and despite her age there’s no sign of a stoop. She moves gracefully towards them, smiling. With her high cheekbones and short white hair teased into a style that frames her face, Miss Betty reminds him of two of his favourite actresses – Dame Judi and Helen Mirren.
‘Rick, honey, it’s real good of you to come visiting.’ Her smile drops a little as she scans the coffee table. ‘Has Martha offered you some sweet tea? No, I bet she hasn’t, has she. Really, that child has so much to learn.’
‘I’ll get it right away, Miss Betty.’
‘Thank you, Martha, yes you do that. And fetch the good cookies as well. On a plate, please, as we discussed.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Miss Betty turns to Philip. ‘And you must be Rick’s friend?’
Philip lurches to his feet. Holds out his hand. ‘I’m Philip, I run the community watch with Rick.’
‘Lovely,’ says Miss Betty, and she gestures back towards the chaise longue. ‘Sit, please.’