A Death in the Family by Hazel Holt

his headship. There were a lot of things that he preferred not to give to the school secretary.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose there were.’
    ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got very good computer skills – Bernard gets quite impatient with me sometimes. He says I must go on a course, and I suppose I will have to, but I do dread it, trying to manage new things, and all the others will be so young and able to cope.’
    ‘I’m sure you could cope too,’ I said, trying to put back just a little of the self-confidence that Bernard had obviously destroyed. ‘And I expect there’ll be people of all ages.’
    Tris, who’d been asleep in his basket in the kitchen and had woken up and found he wasmissing something, came bustling into the sitting room. He saw Foss sitting smugly on Janet’s lap and trotted over and sat by her feet. She leant over carefully and stroked him.
    ‘He’s lovely. You are lucky,’ she said again.
    I smiled. ‘They’re great company,’ I said, ‘you can’t be lonely with two demanding animals.’
    We chatted for a while about general things and I was surprised at how easy she was when not overshadowed by her horrible husband. It was plain that she had more or less sunk her own personality (whatever it might have been originally) into the sort of subservient shadow he demanded.
    The sound of the wind suddenly howling down the chimney startled Tris who leapt to his feet and began to bark. Janet looked at her watch and said, ‘Goodness, is that the time? I must be getting back. Bernard will be wondering what’s become of me.’
    ‘Oh, don’t go yet,’ I said. ‘It’s only half past nine. Have another cup of tea or something.’
    Janet shook her head. ‘No, it’s very kind of you, but I mustn’t, really.’
    She lifted Foss carefully and, getting up, put him in the chair she had vacated, giving him a farewell stroke. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she said. ‘It’s been so nice talking to you and seeing the animals. Such a lovely change…’
    She really seemed to have enjoyed herself and I felt a wave of pity for someone who had been deprived of such simple pleasures.
    ‘I wonder,’ she said hesitantly, ‘I wonder if I might ring for a taxi?’
    ‘Well, of course,’ I said in some surprise. ‘I hadn’t realised – I thought you’d come by car.’
    She shook her head. ‘Bernard doesn’t like me driving the car,’ she said, then, seeing my expression she added, ‘not at night.’
    ‘There’s no need for a taxi, though,’ I said. ‘I’ll take you back.’
    ‘Oh no,’ she protested. ‘I couldn’t put you out like that, especially on such a terrible night!’
    ‘It’s no bother. Just hang on a minute while I change my shoes and get my coat.’
    It was certainly a wretched night. The rain was very heavy and although the wind had dropped a little there was still enough to drive it slant-wise across the road making driving unpleasant. Janet, sitting beside me, was silent and I was too busy to talk, having to concentrate on peering through the rain and murk, dazzled by the refracted light of the headlights of the oncoming cars. The road – it was really a lane – leading to the cottage was very narrow and I prayed that we wouldn’t meet any other vehicle since I knew I’d find it almost impossible to reverse in these circumstances.
    I was relieved to see the lights of the cottage shining out in the darkness, but as I pulled up onto the grass verge beside the gate I realised that there was so much light because the front door was open.
    ‘What on earth’s happening?’ I exclaimed as I gotout of the car. ‘Why ever is the door open on a night like this?’
    Janet got out more slowly. ‘I don’t know,’ she said nervously. She seemed disinclined to move towards the house.
    ‘Well, come along then,’ I said rather sharply, ‘we’re getting soaked out here.’
    The front door was not fully open but half ajar, almost as if the wind had blown it open. I went inside into