When the Devil Drives

'You mean Fiona's started labour?' Joanna sat bolt upright. 'But thebaby's not due for another couple of months. Oh, that's awful!''Don't waste your sympathy,' Nanny advised tartly. 'That baby won'tbe born until the right time, take my word for it. Madam's gotindigestion, as I told her.' She snorted. 'What can sheexpect—sending Mr Simon into Northwaite at all hours for thattandoori chicken stuff?''Oh, is that all?' Joanna relaxed.'Anyway, Mr Simon said to tell you if he's not back in time for themeeting this afternoon, you've to hold the fort. He said you'dunderstand.'Joanna choked on a mouthful of tea. 'He said what?''You're not deaf. And don't spill that tea on your quilt.''But he can't do this,' Joanna said, half to herself. 'He's got to be backhere in time—he's got to...' She looked up beseechingly at Nanny.'The nursing home—they'll send Fiona home straight away if it's justindigestion, won't they?'Nanny sniffed. 'The lord only knows. She might have discovered afew more symptoms by the time the doctor comes round. Madam'snot averse to a few days in bed being waited on.'Nanny could never be described as the young Mrs Chalfont's greatestfan, but Joanna had to admit she spoke with a certain amount ofjustice. Once in the luxury of the nursing home, with attentive nursesanswering her every bell, Fiona might well be reluctant to return toChalfont House where people were more likely to tell her to pullherself together and stop making a fuss about nothing. And she wouldcertainly insist on Simon dancing attendance on her.