Enough to Kill a Horse by Elizabeth Ferrars Page B

sentences.
    ‘I don’t think you need bother with Chagwell,’ he said.
    His voice was troubled. The sound of it made Clare look round at him from her work at the sink. He was standing by the table, gazing down absently at the lobster patties.
    But Fanny appeared not to have noticed anything unusual in his way of speaking.
    ‘Would you put those things on the big Mason dish, Basil, and pop them into the larder?’ she said. ‘Then we can get this table really cleared.’
    He went to a cupboard and started looking amongst disorderly heaps of crockery for the dish she wanted.
    ‘What’s the trouble, Basil?’ Clare asked. ‘What’s happened?’
    ‘Nothing much at present, to the best of my knowledge,’ he replied. ‘But I don’t think we shall have to divide our house.’
    ‘But …’ Fanny let her hands fall to her sides and stood still, staring at him.
    ‘I couldn’t help overhearing a part of what sounded like a very violent argument,’ he said. ‘I didn’t hear what Kit said, but Laura’s voice was raised in what sounded like the greatest excitement. She was telling Kit that she had no intention at all of living down here and that wherever they go she had in any case no intention of sharing a house with anybody. I have to admit …’ He withdrew his head from the cupboard, emerging with a large oval dish in his hands. Putting it on the table, he started arranging the lobster patties on it with great care. ‘I have to admit that I have a certain sympathy with her. I shouldn’t have liked to settle too close to any member of my own family when I first got married. We’re none of us suitably educated any more for a tribal way of living.’
    ‘Tribal!’ Fanny muttered. She said nothing else, and after a moment went on drying the silver that Clare was clattering on to the draining board. But her face, in spite of what she had said to Clare about her wish that Kit would become independent of her, had become empty and colourless. She seemed to be having difficulty with her breathing, almost as if she were fighting to hold back tears.
    Just then, from the garden, a voice called her, ‘Fanny!’
    It was Jean Gregory. She came hurrying into the kitchen by the back door, carrying a great armful of almond blossom. Above the cloud of pink flowers, clinging to the angular, leafless twigs, her face was unusually flushed.
    ‘I brought you these in case you’d like them to decorate the room for your party,’ she said, ‘because – because Colin and I can’t come.’ Her flush mounted as she said it.
    ‘You and Colin can’t come?’ Fanny said incredulously. ‘But you said – ’
    ‘Yes, but a horrible – a perfectly horrible – thing has happened.’ Jean held the flowers out in front of her stiffly, as if she felt they provided her with a shield. ‘Colin and Tom Mordue have had the most frightful quarrel and after the things Tom said to Colin, I won’t – I simply won’t – let him stay in the same room with him. So if Tom’s coming – I’m awfully sorry, Fanny, and I’m terrified that perhaps you won’t forgive me – but if Tom’s coming, Colin and I can’t!’

CHAPTER FIVE
    Fanny sat down. With one hand she clawed at her hair, with the other she groped blindly for a cigarette. Basil put one into her mouth and lit it for her.
    ‘I’m awfully sorry, Fanny, awfully,’ Jean went on quickly. She looked down at the flowers now as if she were wondering why she had brought them.
    ‘It can’t be helped,’ Fanny said wearily. ‘What happened?’
    ‘It’s a complicated story.’ Jean turned to Basil. ‘Are these any use? If they aren’t – ’
    ‘They’re beautiful,’ he said, taking the armful of blossom. ‘We’ve no almond in our garden. I always look at yours with envy.’
    ‘What happened?’ Fanny repeated.
    ‘It was about Susan,’ Jean said. ‘Colin got an idea that something ought to be done about Susan now that – now that – ’
    ‘Say it,’ Fanny said. ‘Now