story, Lord Robin,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we’re all very touched by it.’
‘Dandy,’ said Ina, rising to her feet and dropping her napkin on to her chair, although we had not yet had pudding or cheese. I stood, cast a quick horrified glance at Alec and followed Ina to the door. She was shaking, blundering rather than walking, and, instinctively, I reached out towards her.
‘Careful, Mrs Gilver,’ said Albert Wilson. ‘Not too close now.’
Robin Laurie behind me let out a long hooting laugh.
4
‘So I for one decided to get drunk,’ said Alec on the telephone the next morning. I was waving a biscuit in front of Bunty’s nose and she was snapping at it and whining. ‘Yat!’ I said. Bunty ignored me.
‘What?’ said Alec.
‘You don’t need to tell me you got drunk,’ I reminded him. ‘I drove you home.’
‘I couldn’t decide which one I felt more sorry for, you see, so I decided to give myself such a crippling hangover that I’d only feel sorry for me. But it was very good port and I feel fine.’
‘At least I got my question answered,’ I said. ‘Laurie must have heard about the Wilsons and decided to come along to tea and treat them to a sermon. That’s what he was doing there.’
‘Pretty cruel sort, isn’t he?’ said Alec.
‘Not usually,’ I said. ‘Your initial character sketch was more on the nose – silliness rather than cruelty, as a rule. And besides, it was in a fairly good-hearted cause.’
‘Do you think it’ll make any difference? Do you think Wilson could let his poor wife live her life? Could she insist on it?’
‘She’s not the insisting type,’ I said. ‘She endures. And makes the best of it when she gets the chance.’
‘Yes, but why?’ said Alec. ‘She can’t really love the man. I could tell she was trying not to wince every time he opened his silly mouth last night. A comfortable home and respectability? But didn’t you say her parents were terribly advanced? They’d surely welcome her home and tough out the divorce, wouldn’t they?’
I felt rather ashamed to admit that the question had not occurred to me. One simply did endure. I did and it seemed unremarkable that Ina Wilson did too. ‘Worn out by ill health?’ I suggested. ‘Can’t summon the energy? Or maybe she does love him, deep down. Who can say?’
‘No,’ said Alec. ‘I think you’re right about the enduring, but I got the distinct impression that she has an end in sight. She’s putting up with it all until something . Do you see?’
All of a sudden, I did. All of a sudden, Ina’s kindness to Albert Wilson the evening before seemed a little like the treat one gives to an old horse while, out of sight, a groom is loading the gun.
‘I suppose the obvious thing is widowhood,’ I said, reluctantly.
‘Not much chance of that – Wilson looks good for decades yet. I’d back him surviving her any day.’
‘And she doesn’t have the leisurely air one sees when good fortune is just about to fall into someone’s lap.’
‘The cushioned look of sure inheritance,’ said Alec. ‘The one that Robin Laurie wears like a mink cloak. It’s pretty sickening and, I agree, absent from young Mrs Wilson. So anyway, what did she say to you in the drawing room once you were alone?’
‘Not much of import, as you can imagine,’ I told him. ‘She was knocked flat by that debacle at the table.’
‘She must have said something,’ Alec insisted. ‘Tell me at least that you got to work on her and didn’t just let her sit there fluttering and fainting.’
‘Alec, darling,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t truffle on just for practice. We’re not on a case, if you recall.’ Even as I said it, though, I could hear the approaching footsteps which would render my words untrue.
Pallister had been pushed beyond his – considerable – capacity for cold disdain and looked simply stunned.
‘A visitor for you, madam,’ he said and he delivered it without any editorialising at all, not
‘Dandy,’ said Ina, rising to her feet and dropping her napkin on to her chair, although we had not yet had pudding or cheese. I stood, cast a quick horrified glance at Alec and followed Ina to the door. She was shaking, blundering rather than walking, and, instinctively, I reached out towards her.
‘Careful, Mrs Gilver,’ said Albert Wilson. ‘Not too close now.’
Robin Laurie behind me let out a long hooting laugh.
4
‘So I for one decided to get drunk,’ said Alec on the telephone the next morning. I was waving a biscuit in front of Bunty’s nose and she was snapping at it and whining. ‘Yat!’ I said. Bunty ignored me.
‘What?’ said Alec.
‘You don’t need to tell me you got drunk,’ I reminded him. ‘I drove you home.’
‘I couldn’t decide which one I felt more sorry for, you see, so I decided to give myself such a crippling hangover that I’d only feel sorry for me. But it was very good port and I feel fine.’
‘At least I got my question answered,’ I said. ‘Laurie must have heard about the Wilsons and decided to come along to tea and treat them to a sermon. That’s what he was doing there.’
‘Pretty cruel sort, isn’t he?’ said Alec.
‘Not usually,’ I said. ‘Your initial character sketch was more on the nose – silliness rather than cruelty, as a rule. And besides, it was in a fairly good-hearted cause.’
‘Do you think it’ll make any difference? Do you think Wilson could let his poor wife live her life? Could she insist on it?’
‘She’s not the insisting type,’ I said. ‘She endures. And makes the best of it when she gets the chance.’
‘Yes, but why?’ said Alec. ‘She can’t really love the man. I could tell she was trying not to wince every time he opened his silly mouth last night. A comfortable home and respectability? But didn’t you say her parents were terribly advanced? They’d surely welcome her home and tough out the divorce, wouldn’t they?’
I felt rather ashamed to admit that the question had not occurred to me. One simply did endure. I did and it seemed unremarkable that Ina Wilson did too. ‘Worn out by ill health?’ I suggested. ‘Can’t summon the energy? Or maybe she does love him, deep down. Who can say?’
‘No,’ said Alec. ‘I think you’re right about the enduring, but I got the distinct impression that she has an end in sight. She’s putting up with it all until something . Do you see?’
All of a sudden, I did. All of a sudden, Ina’s kindness to Albert Wilson the evening before seemed a little like the treat one gives to an old horse while, out of sight, a groom is loading the gun.
‘I suppose the obvious thing is widowhood,’ I said, reluctantly.
‘Not much chance of that – Wilson looks good for decades yet. I’d back him surviving her any day.’
‘And she doesn’t have the leisurely air one sees when good fortune is just about to fall into someone’s lap.’
‘The cushioned look of sure inheritance,’ said Alec. ‘The one that Robin Laurie wears like a mink cloak. It’s pretty sickening and, I agree, absent from young Mrs Wilson. So anyway, what did she say to you in the drawing room once you were alone?’
‘Not much of import, as you can imagine,’ I told him. ‘She was knocked flat by that debacle at the table.’
‘She must have said something,’ Alec insisted. ‘Tell me at least that you got to work on her and didn’t just let her sit there fluttering and fainting.’
‘Alec, darling,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t truffle on just for practice. We’re not on a case, if you recall.’ Even as I said it, though, I could hear the approaching footsteps which would render my words untrue.
Pallister had been pushed beyond his – considerable – capacity for cold disdain and looked simply stunned.
‘A visitor for you, madam,’ he said and he delivered it without any editorialising at all, not
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