Carnage on the Committee by Ruth Dudley Edwards Page B

should have a brief respite.'
    'Haven't the cops said anything?'
    'They're waiting until the medics are ready to go public on the post-mortem, which will be tonight. Tomorrow should be lively.'
    'And the committee?'
    'They won't know about Hermione until it's official. Some of them have grumbled about you refusing to hold an emergency meeting.'
    'What's wrong with them? I'll never understand why people want pointless meetings. Do they seriously think I have time to leg it up to London in order to sit round a table bemoaning the loss of Hermione Babcock?'
    'I think they thought it important that you all get to know each other.'
    'I already know more about most of them than I could
    ever possibly want to,' she said, shuddering slightly. 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'
    'Most of them, on the other hand, are consumed with curiosity to know more about you.'
    'They've got nothing better to do, that's the top and bottom of it.'
    'Georgie did, however, get it through to them that you needed time to read the books.'
    'Didn't stop Griffiths and Rosa trying to get through to me. I presume Griffiths wanted to be sure I didn't pass up his favourites and Rosa wanted to tell me what was beyond the pale.'
    'So you didn't speak to them?'
    'Certainly not. I instructed Petunia to tell them to get lost.'
    'I've had Wysteria, Dervla, Felix and Hugo on the phone. I'd agreed to Georgie telling everyone you and I used to be colleagues on The Wrangler [ Publish and he Murdered] on the grounds that it would become public anyway, so they wanted the low-down.'
    'And?'
    'Wysteria's apprehensive. Doesn't seem to have happy memories of you.'
    'Afraid I'll call her Trixie, probably. Which I will if she's stroppy. What did you tell her?'
    'That you're a thorough professional.'
    'Meaningless drivel.'
    'Not to Wysteria, who seemed comforted.'
    'And the literary editor? What do you call him?'
    'Sir Hugo Hurlingham. You must have heard of him.'
    'Frightful old wanker, I seem to remember.'
    'Portentous is the word, I think. Well, he said in hushed tones that although this was not to go any further, he had
    heard on excellent authority something very disturbing about you.'
    'Oh, good. What?'
    'You are reputed to be a Eurosceptic.'
    'Rubbish, I'm a Europhobe. I thought everyone knew that.'
    'Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but old Hugo hasn't quite placed you yet. Anyway, I reassured him that - whatever your views - you were an experienced university politician who would not let any prejudices you might have cloud your judgement.'
    'Sometimes I think you should have stayed in the civil service, Robert. You could have made Cabinet Secretary. And Dervla whatshername?'
    'Just Dervla. She doesn't sport a surname. She's just generally terrified, poor kid. She's only on the committee because youth was thought to be a good idea, she'd made it as a singer, had joined a popular soap opera, and had told interviewers she loved reading. When she came on the committee she was full of confidence, not to speak of Irish bullshit, and she jabbered about the importance of wards.'
    'Wards? As in hospitals or dependants?'
    'Wards as in words. Wards, wards, wards. She loved wards, she told us. And indeed by the standards of the young, she really did. But she's been patronised by Hermione and Hugo, sneered at by Wysteria, bullied by Geraint, lectured by Rosa, insulted by Den and confused by Felix and she's intellectually very bedraggled and intimidated these days, afraid of everyone except me, and not knowing from day to day what she thinks of the books.'
    'What did you tell her?'
    'That she wasn't to tell anyone else but that you were really a pussycat.'
    'You're not supposed to tell people that. It's a secret. Besides, I'm only a pussycat when I want to be.'
    'You'll want to be with Dervla. She's only a kid.'
    'Hmm. What was her response?'
    'Something along the lines of "Like omigahd that's so totally weird. Den said she was like ... dimuuhh."'
    The baroness winced and