Page 114 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

They all turned, and a male figure coming in out of the rain and doffing its hat resolved itself into Mr Cowling.

‘Oh, good morning!’ Nina said. ‘How did you know we were here?’

‘Mawes told me, when I happened to drop by, so I hurried out to see if I could catch you,’ he said.

Nina realised that her aunt had never met him, though she could probably guess who he was. ‘Aunt, may I present Mr Cowling? Mr Cowling, my aunt, Mrs Schofield.’

‘Honoured to make your acquaintance, ma’am,’ Cowling said, giving her hand a hearty shake.

She drew it back and discreetly massaged it. ‘The pleasure is mine, Mr Cowling. This scheme has been dear to my heart for many years, and your generous offer has made it possible to realise.’

‘A free library,’ Cowling said. ‘Not a bad idea, as long as there’s good solid books of education, and not too many trashy novels.’

‘Self-help is the main purpose,’ she said. ‘But knowledge of the classics can only enrich the mind. We need gardens, Mr Cowling, as well as factories. Mankind needs plants as well as plant.’

He seemed struck by that. ‘Plant and plants – I hadn’t thought of it that way. That’s a good one! I shall remember that. Plants and plant.’ He looked around with a sharply critical eye. ‘It looks a solid place enough. What do you think, Miss Sanderton?’ His voice underwent a modulation when he turned to Nina: he asked her opinion almost tenderly.

‘I was wondering about the lack of windows,’ she said. ‘It needs to be inviting – people will be scared enough to come in without it looking dark and oppressive.’

‘Aye, the thought of having to read a book would shake most of the folk round here to their boots,’ Cowling said genially.

‘You couldn’t build bookshelves across windows,’ said Aunt Schofield, ‘so the more blank wall you have, the more bookshelves you can put in. The room is high enough to have two storeys, and my idea is to build a gallery upstairs, where the natural light is, to use as a reading-room.’

‘But how will people down below be able to see the books?’ Lepida said.

‘If the gallery is made of pierced ironwork, it won’t cut out all the light,’ Aunt Schofield said. ‘But there will have to be artificial light for the ground floor.’ This was the point that had been worrying her most. There would have to be light anyway, because they wanted to open in the evenings, the only time most working people could get there. There had been no need of gaslight in a warehouse used only for storage, so there was no supply laid on. She didn’t know how much their new benefactor was willing to spend.

Mr Cowling looked untroubled. ‘Electric light’s the thing. No sense messing around with gas, these days, specially when your stock’s all paper. You don’t want any risk of fire, now, do you?’

‘That’s a good point,’ said Aunt Schofield. ‘But wouldn’t electric light be expensive?’

‘No more than gas,’ said Cowling. ‘There’s electricity all up and down the Commercial Road. Only a matter of tapping into it. Easier to lay electric cables than gas pipes, ma’am, I can tell you. But you leave all that to me. You don’t need to worry about details. You just decide what you want, and I’ll stand the nonsense, whatever it is.’

‘That is very generous of you, Mr Cowling.’

‘No, no, I said I’d do it and I will. I can’t stand paltriness. I suppose you’ll need an architect to draw your plans.’

‘I can recommend a very good firm,’ the agent began.

Cowling turned on him, like a cat pouncing. ‘I don’t doubt you can, young man – and a firm of builders as well, eh? All friends of yours, and greasing your palm to get the work. Well, I wasn’t born yesterday. You and me are going to have a serious talk about money very soon, but we won’t do it in front of ladies, so bide there and hold your water till I’m ready.’

Having trounced the agent, Cowling clasped his hands behind his back, and stared around with apparent pleasure, rocking a little on his heels. ‘Aye, not bad, not bad. I can see it all. That gallery – having the study part upstairs’ll mean you can keep an eye on the books and not have ’em walking out the door. And pierced ironwork’ll mean you can watch what folk are up to. You don’t want the place getting a reputation for hanky-panky. You want decent folks to let their sons and daughters come here.’

‘You seem to have thought of so many things that hadn’t occurred to us,’ said Aunt Schofield.

Mr Cowling beamed. ‘Well, now, ma’am, I wouldn’t expect ladies to recognise all the pitfalls the way I can, having been in business all my life. Ladies have the fine, grand ideas – they do the artistic bit of the thinking, which is right. Base folk like me can get down to the grubby details, being closer to the ground, as you might say.’

‘I don’t think you are in the least base,’ Aunt Schofield said firmly. ‘Your willingness to help with the Free Library shows you to be a superior person.’

He looked abashed. ‘No, no,’ he mumbled, in protest. ‘You’re too kind. I know what I am. But it doesn’t mean I don’t know superior when I see it.’ Nina thought he was actually blushing. Then he pulled himself together. ‘Now, this young man and I had better have a talk about the money, which is what you don’t need to worry about. Are you done here, ladies? Can we get you a cab?’

‘Yes, I think we’ve seen all we came for,’ Aunt Schofield said. ‘Mr Cowling, would you take dinner with us at my house tomorrow evening? I would like the other movers of our scheme to meet you.’

‘At your house? I’d be honoured,’ he said, seeming genuinely pleased.

‘At seven, then? And we will dress.’

When the family went home from Scotland, Sebastian had gone to stay in his house in Henley, and had taken Crooks with him. The town was quiet with the regatta long gone and it had been pleasantly restful after the hurly-burly of Kincraig. But Crooks didn’t really have enough to do, and he was glad to get back to the Castle.