Snare by Gwen Moffat

and I lie there, listening. It rings for ages. One gets more and more disturbed. I find the whole business absolutely monstrous!’ She shuddered and bit her lip.
    Miss Pink said calmly, And you think Hamish is making these calls?’
    â€˜Oh, no. No!’ Beatrice was shocked, ‘It’s one thing to play a bad joke on your father, but quite another to set out to terrify a woman living alone. But someone’s making them, certainly. I’m inclined to think it’s some children on the lighthouse road – older children, adolescents.’
    â€˜You’ve not talked to Coline about it?’
    â€˜No. I find Coline superficial and peculiarly arrogant. She’s sociable, but she’s more concerned with her books than with real people. Of course the books are money-spinners and sometimes I wonder if Coline’s only interested in money. She seems to have little feeling, even for her family. No, I don’t confide in Coline. And as for Ranald, he would be gallant and get on the telephone to the Chief Constable – and what could he do? This would never have happened when Robert was alive.’
    â€˜Why not? Even he couldn’t have done anything about an anonymous caller.’
    â€˜You don’t understand. The call isn’t dangerous; it’s a signal – that someone is out there who knows you’re alone, who could even have seen the lights go on in your house as you went downstairs to answer the phone. You’re being watched. He’s revelling in your fear; fear that he’s going to break in and ... you know the rest. None of it could have happened with a man in the house, a man whom everyone knew was a splendid shot and without fear.’ Miss Pink had stiffened at mention of someone watching the house, but all she said was, ‘Are his guns still here?’
    â€˜Yes. Locked up of course. But a gun’s pointless unless you’re prepared to use it.’
    â€˜It might be a good idea to put in some shooting practice. Do you have a firearms certificate?’
    â€˜Yes. One has to keep down the rabbits and grey squirrels.’
    A timer rang in the kitchen and brought an end to the conversation. Over dinner, Miss Pink gave an account of her meetings with the Campbells earlier that day. At the end she asked, ‘What do you feel about these stories of Campbell’s involvement with the Special Branch, and sinister people lurking in the wings?’
    Beatrice shrugged. ‘I ignore it. To be frank, I find it annoying because I’m the one who is actually getting telephone calls, while with Campbell the persecution is all in his mind. Then I’ve caught myself wondering whether I could have dreamed those calls, whether I could be going senile. So I discourage Campbell’s fantasies; they come too close to home.’
    After dinner they had the slide show. Polar wastes were not Miss Pink’s favourite kind of country but they were magnificent to look at, particularly from the comfort of an armchair, and Beatrice took obvious delight in the pictures.
    â€˜When I see that glacier on the Greenland ice-cap, I hear his voice talking about “crevasses like green glass”. I repeat it deliberately; it brings him back, if he ever went away.’
    As she was preparing to take her leave, Miss Pink considered whether this was the right moment to suggest that Beatrice should send for an expert to advise her on security. She caught the other woman’s eye.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ Beatrice said. ‘When you look at it sensibly I’ve nothing to lose. I don’t even have an animal as a hostage to fortune.’

CHAPTER FOUR
    â€˜And how is Alec?’
    On the other side of the counter Rose Millar stiffened. ‘As well as can be expected. Nurse told us what you said happened. Are you certain it wasn’t done deliberate?’
    â€˜There’s no question,’ Miss Pink assured her. ‘The pony was going