Authors: The Companion
Ann Granger (14 page)
With that he stared very hard at me.
‘Well,’ said Aunt Parry tentatively, ‘Madeleine always seemed a nice enough young woman, that’s why I was so shocked when we received the letter. As regards that letter, the police inspector seemed put out that I had not kept it.’
‘Why should you keep it?’ Tibbett retorted. ‘It was a sordid document in which a declaration that she had fallen into sin was made with not the slightest sense of having done wrong. When a young person throws off the protection of her elders and betters and takes the potholed road to ruin, there are no depths into which it might not cause her to plunge, and no fate so dreadful that it can’t be expected.’
Wilkins and Ellis the maids were not the only ones enjoying themselves thoroughly in the mayhem and misery, I thought.
‘It was such a shock when a police inspector called yesterday, quite unexpectedly. Last night poor Frank had to go to Scotland Yard and from there … I cannot mention it. It was too dreadful.’ Aunt Parry put her cologne-scented handkerchief to her nose.
‘He was obliged to go to a mortuary and identify Miss Hexham,’ I supplied.
Dr Tibbett tut-tutted and said it was dreadful indeed and Frank
must bear up, too. A slight look of embarrassment then crossed his face. ‘I am sorry I was not at home when your note came yesterday. I – ah – had been called to the bedside of a former scholastic colleague who is very ill, very ill indeed. At the request of his wife I sat with him for a while. I think it comforted him.’
must bear up, too. A slight look of embarrassment then crossed his face. ‘I am sorry I was not at home when your note came yesterday. I – ah – had been called to the bedside of a former scholastic colleague who is very ill, very ill indeed. At the request of his wife I sat with him for a while. I think it comforted him.’
Aunt Parry said she was sure it had and Dr Tibbett should not be dismayed that he had not been free to attend to her. She quite understood. But she looked a little annoyed. I wondered if she, as I did, suspected the scholastic colleague played a role similar to that of the constantly ailing grandmothers with whom junior clerks were famously well supplied.
‘The – ah – police,’ said Dr Tibbett with some unusual delicacy of manner, ‘they have not – ah – returned?’
‘The house has been full of them!’ declared Aunt Parry vigorously, waving the handkerchief and filling the air with the scent of cologne. ‘But they have not troubled me – or Elizabeth, although Elizabeth could tell them nothing, anyway. I can tell them nothing. I should think the servants can tell them nothing. Madeleine did not tell anyone here what she meant to do.’
‘A sergeant and a constable came this morning to interview the servants,’ I explained.
‘Ah, the servants,’ said Tibbett thoughtfully. ‘They are sometimes tempted, in such circumstances, to let their imaginations run riot. A few grains of salt will be needed, I fear, with any statement any of them will have made.’
‘I expect the police are well used to that sort of thing,’ I said briskly. ‘And will make sense of it all.’
By now the looks of disapproval Tibbett had been casting me were turning to those of dislike.
‘No doubt,’ he said. ‘You seem well acquainted with situations of this kind, Miss Martin.’
‘Well, not really,’ I told him. ‘But my father, besides his practice, acted as police surgeon in our town.’
‘Oh, really?’ was the dour reply.
At this juncture, Mrs Belling was announced.
She hurried into the room and embraced Aunt Parry before she had quite had time to rise from her chair in greeting.
‘My dear! But this is all quite, quite dreadful! How do you do, Dr Tibbett? I am glad to see you here. Julia, whatever can I say to you? I feel such a responsibility for what has happened!’
Aunt Parry and Dr Tibbett began at once and together to assure her she bore no responsibility at all. As she had so far ignored me I did not feel obliged to say anything.
‘I have written to my friend in Durham,’ Mrs Belling went on when sufficient reassurances had been received. ‘I have pointed out to her very frankly that she should have made far more rigorous enquiries about the girl before packing her off to London and us, that is to say, to you. I am most disappointed.’
I could not help then but observe as calmly as I could, ‘It is terrible to think how frightened and helpless Miss Hexham must have been at the end when she found herself at the mercy of her murderer.’
There was a silence. Three pairs of eyes turned to me.
‘I have thought about it,’ said Aunt Parry with a gesture of the handkerchief in the general direction of her eyes.
‘Well, yes,’ said Mrs Belling, clearly annoyed. ‘Quite so. But she put herself in that awful situation, did she not?’
‘One hopes,’ said Tibbett, ‘that she found time before she died to ask her Maker for forgiveness.’
‘Do ring for tea, Elizabeth!’ said Aunt Parry sharply.
I gave the bell pull a savage jerk as if I had Dr Tibbett’s neck at the other end of it.
When both visitors had left, my employer and I sat for some minutes in awkward silence.
‘Elizabeth, my dear,’ said Aunt Parry at last. ‘You have a kind heart but I fear an impetuous tongue.’
‘I did not mean to upset Dr Tibbett,’ I said. ‘I am sorry if I embarrassed you.’
‘That is not quite what I meant,’ she replied unexpectedly. ‘In London, my dear, things are not as they would be in your own home town. There everyone knew you and knew your papa. Here in London people are very much judged by appearances. A word, a look, a smile or frown in the wrong place and a person’s reputation may be fixed in an unfortunate way. I would not like you to gain a name for being, let us say, mischievous.’
‘I am not that, Aunt Parry!’ I exclaimed. ‘I do speak my mind, I admit it. And although I did not know Miss Hexham, I feel very sorry for her.’ Wryly, I added, ‘I do, after all, sleep in her bed, do I not? I have to think about her.’
‘My goodness,’ said Aunt Parry, startled. ‘So you do. Would you like to move to another room? Does it alarm you?’
I shook my head. ‘No, ma’am, I am very well where I am. Please don’t worry on my account. I will keep everything you have said in mind.’
She patted my hand. ‘There, there. You are a good girl. We shall do very well together.’ She sighed. ‘But these two days have been very trying. I think I will retire to my room for the rest of the day and have a supper tray sent up. Do write a note on my behalf to Dr Tibbett and say I regret I shall not be able to receive company at dinner tonight. It’s Thursday and normally he would return this evening.’
I had forgotten it was Thursday. As I penned the note I wondered if this would mean I had to dine
tête-à-tête
with Frank. I really couldn’t bear his conversation for an entire evening unsupported. But this was not to be. Together with a reply note from Tibbett saying he hoped his dear friend would soon recover from her low spirits and begging her to ‘bear up’, came a note from Frank saying he would again dine in town. In the circumstances, suggested Simms impassively, Miss Martin too might wish to have her supper on a tray in her room?
tête-à-tête
with Frank. I really couldn’t bear his conversation for an entire evening unsupported. But this was not to be. Together with a reply note from Tibbett saying he hoped his dear friend would soon recover from her low spirits and begging her to ‘bear up’, came a note from Frank saying he would again dine in town. In the circumstances, suggested Simms impassively, Miss Martin too might wish to have her supper on a tray in her room?
I acquiesced, having no great wish to sit in state in the dining room and have Simms and his wife telling one another downstairs
that I was adopting airs above my station. The supper arrived, borne upstairs by Wilkins with sulky mien. It consisted of fish pie and rice pudding. I suspected it was the reheated remains of the main meal the staff had eaten earlier. I doubted the lady of the house had been served fish pie. However Aunt Parry might treat me, below stairs they knew my true status.
that I was adopting airs above my station. The supper arrived, borne upstairs by Wilkins with sulky mien. It consisted of fish pie and rice pudding. I suspected it was the reheated remains of the main meal the staff had eaten earlier. I doubted the lady of the house had been served fish pie. However Aunt Parry might treat me, below stairs they knew my true status.
When I had eaten, I put the tray outside the door assuming that Wilkins would come back for it when she saw fit. The house seemed unnaturally quiet. There was no sound from Aunt Parry’s room. I went downstairs and found the rooms there deserted. I decided I would fetch a book from the library.
The smell of cigar smoke still lingered in there. I searched among the tightly packed books, most of which were not to my taste, and found a volume of poetry. I took it down and went to one of the wing chairs. Light was fading now and Simms hadn’t lit the gas jets in this room on his early evening tour. There were to be no gentlemen at dinner and the library would not be called into use as a smoking room. I did not need them. There was a stub of candle in a brass stick on the mantelshelf so I lit it with one of the safety matches and settled down.
I opened the book and found that the poem before me was one by Coleridge, ‘Kubla Khan’. I whispered some of the lines aloud:
‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.’
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.’
Why, I thought, Coleridge might be describing this great city of London. It is like a wonderful pleasure palace – but it is built above unseen and frightening things almost beyond imagination.
I closed the book and sat with it on my lap. Around me the fabric of this overheated house creaked as it cooled and settled in
the night air. Occasionally footsteps would walk briskly past the window. Once I heard someone whistling a sad little tune in the distance before that too faded and was gone. Coleridge’s words swirled around my head, but now they no longer applied to London but to the coal workings of my native county. I imagined them also as endless caverns in a sunless world where men and boys, some still children, toiled in semi-darkness as far above their heads the more fortunate walked heedlessly to and fro. After a while all these thoughts became muddled in my head and I drifted into uneasy sleep. In it I dreamed I walked alone through a long dark street until I reached a fork in the way and stopped, not knowing which branch to take. As I stood wondering, someone or something approached me and its warm breath brushed my cheek.
the night air. Occasionally footsteps would walk briskly past the window. Once I heard someone whistling a sad little tune in the distance before that too faded and was gone. Coleridge’s words swirled around my head, but now they no longer applied to London but to the coal workings of my native county. I imagined them also as endless caverns in a sunless world where men and boys, some still children, toiled in semi-darkness as far above their heads the more fortunate walked heedlessly to and fro. After a while all these thoughts became muddled in my head and I drifted into uneasy sleep. In it I dreamed I walked alone through a long dark street until I reached a fork in the way and stopped, not knowing which branch to take. As I stood wondering, someone or something approached me and its warm breath brushed my cheek.
I gasped and awoke with a painful hop of my heart. My head had been crooked at an awkward angle against the wing of the chair and my neck was stiff. I raised my hand to rub it and, as I did so, became aware that the breathing I had heard in my dream could still be heard and was not mine but another’s. My candle had burned out but a fresh one had been lit. I started forward in my seat as by its flickering flame I saw that I was no longer alone.
Frank Carterton sat in the companion wing chair opposite to me and was watching me moodily, his legs stretched out before him, the fingers of his right hand caressing his chin. His shadow aped his form on the wall behind him so that it was as if two persons, not one, confronted me and in my muddled state I could not quite decide which one of them was real.
‘What time is it?’ I exclaimed, gripping the arms of the chair. The volume of verse tumbled from my lap to the carpet.
‘A little after midnight,’ he replied, letting his right hand drop to his side.
‘How long have you been there?’
‘Oh …’ He and the shadow shrugged. ‘Perhaps half an hour?’
‘You startled me,’ I said. ‘I did not hear you return.’
One side of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to grin but thought it inappropriate. ‘Forgive me. I told Simms I had a key and if he would leave the door unbolted there was no need to wait up for me. I would not be late and I would not be, well, I would not be rather the worse for wear as I was last night. And I am not, you see, not drunk.’
‘What are you doing in here?’ I still could not quite pull my wits together.
‘I thought I would smoke a cigar before turning in. However when I came in here, there you were. I didn’t like to wake you. But I didn’t like to leave you, either.’
‘Then I will leave you to your cigar,’ I said, making to rise.
He leaned forward and gestured me back into my chair. ‘Don’t go, Lizzie. I want to talk to you.’
‘You can talk to me at breakfast!’ I retorted. My mind was functioning again as it should and I was annoyed with him.
‘But then Simms will be gliding in and out and make no mistake, Simms has the hearing of a bat!’
‘Is what you have to say so private?’ I asked.
‘Yes, it is. I want to talk to you about Madeleine. I am sure below stairs they talk of nothing else but they have the advantage that we do not hear them.’
‘The police were here today to question all the staff,’ I said.
Frank chuckled. ‘I wager they got nothing out of them. Simms will have made sure of that. If, of course, there was anything any of them could tell our stout-hearted guardians of the law. But Simms holds the honour of this household very dear. His own reputation, too.’
‘His reputation?’ I asked.
‘Why, yes. To have been the butler in a household where there was some scandal would not recommend him if he sought a position elsewhere. Not that he plans to leave as far as I know. He and Mrs Simms have it very comfortable here.’ Frank stooped
and picked up the volume of verse. He read the title on the spine and observed, ‘I am no great reader of poetry.’
and picked up the volume of verse. He read the title on the spine and observed, ‘I am no great reader of poetry.’
He placed the book carefully on a little table by his chair. ‘Inspector Ross asked me if I had noticed anything in Miss Hexham’s manner before she left us to indicate she was preoccupied or lovesick or anything of that nature. I told him, no. That is true. I paid very little attention to her. She was a whey-faced little provincial nonentity.’
‘As am I!’ I said sharply.
‘Oh, no, no, Lizzie. You are quite a different kettle of fish. As I have said to you before, you are intelligent, independent of mind, observant I know, and handsome.’
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