The Strangling on the Stage by Simon Brett Page B

spoken for more than a couple of minutes.’
    â€˜It often doesn’t take long.’
    Jude groaned. ‘That’s almost as corny as your “Where have you been hiding all my life” line.’
    â€˜At least you remember it.’
    â€˜Only for its cheesiness.’
    â€˜Touché. Anyway, I was wondering if we could meet for a drink or something.’
    â€˜A drink might be all right. I’m not so sure about the “something”.’
    â€˜Let’s start with a drink then …’
    Jude didn’t really know why she was playing along with him. If she hadn’t already decided that Ritchie Good was nothing but an ego on legs, this phone conversation would have convinced her. And yet here she was, responding in kind to his rather elaborate innuendo. Maybe it was just that it had been a long time since she’d flirted with a man. She was still smarting after the end of a pretty serious relationship with a man called Piers Targett, so wasn’t looking for anything beyond casual. But having a drink with an attractive bullshitter … well, there might be worse ways of spending an idle hour.
    So she found herself agreeing to meet Ritchie Good at six o’clock in the Crown and Anchor.
    The fact that she had chosen Fethering’s only pub as a rendezvous was a measure of how little Jude was anticipating any kind of relationship. Had the assignation been with anyone who really interested her, she would opted for another venue, a place from where the news of her tryst did not immediately go straight round the village. There was security for her in the Crown and Anchor. It put her on her home base, and there’d be people she knew there – Ted Crisp the landlord, his bar manager Zosia and some of the regulars.
    Jude also told herself that she might get more information from Ritchie about Hester Winstone and what had reduced her to a suicidal state. The woman had, after all, said that Ritchie had chatted her up. But Jude knew that was really only an excuse. There was also the fact that he was a very attractive man.
    He was late. Jude was already installed in an alcove with a large Chilean Chardonnay, and had already heard Ted’s Joke of the Day (‘Where are the Seychelles?’ ‘I don’t know – where are the Seychelles?’ ‘On the Seyshore.’).
    Ritchie Good apologized for his tardiness. ‘Sorry, I got held up at work.’
    â€˜What do you do?’
    â€˜I work in a bank.’
    â€˜Oh, are you one of those pariahs of contemporary society who keeps getting whacking bonuses?’
    â€˜I wish. No, I work in the Hove branch of HSBC. On the Life Insurance side.’
    â€˜Ah.’
    â€˜I see you’ve got a drink.’ No suggestion he should buy her another one. Then again she had only had a couple of swallows from the glass. ‘I’ll get something for myself.’
    He came back from the bar with what Jude knew, because she’d overheard him ordering it, was half a pint of shandy. ‘Can’t drink much,’ he said, ‘because I’m rehearsing tonight.’
    â€˜I thought
The Devil’s Disciple
rehearsed on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.’
    â€˜Yes, they do. Tonight isn’t for that. I’m playing Benedict in the Fedborough Thespians’
Much Ado
.’
    â€˜At the same time as you’re doing
The Devil’s Disciple
?’
    â€˜Yes. Davina knew the deal when she persuaded me to do Dick Dudgeon. The
Much Ado
is on at the end of March, so I’ll have to miss a few
Disciple
rehearsals round then.’
    â€˜So how long have you been a member of SADOS?’
    â€˜The Saddoes?’ he said, enjoying the mispronunciation. ‘I’m not actually a member.’
    â€˜But you have done shows for them before?’
    â€˜Oh yes, I’ve done shows for most of the local amdrams, but I’ve never been a member of any of them.’ He smiled a