A pinch of snuff

'Good day?' she asked.

'Mixed,' he said. 'No. Good really, only it's knocked me out a bit. Shorter's off the hook.'

'What?'

'Yes. No case. I'll tell you all about it later.'

'Good,' she said without conviction. 'Are you still going to go to him?'

'As a dentist you mean? I don't know. I suppose so. After all, he knows my fantasies.'

'Yes. I dare say Ms Lacewing can make a pretty good guess at them too.'

'Good lord,' he said. 'Can one liberated woman be jealous of another?'

'Of course not. But being liberated, I'll thump her on the nose if I catch her making eyes at you again.'

'Making eyes?' said Pascoe, astounded.

'That's what it comes down to,' said Ellie. 'I know a rival when I see one.'

'Do you? You know, perhaps I've been wrong about that girl. Ask her round to dinner some night. Preferably some night when you've got a committee meeting.'

'Ha ha.'

'Which reminds me,' said Pascoe, accepting gratefully the drink which Ellie offered him. She must be a mind-reader, he thought, as he assessed that its length and strength were just what he needed. He sank half of it in a swallow.

'Reminds you what?'

'Your committee. It shouldn't be such hard going. I think God Blengdale's going to have other things on his plate.'

Ellie laughed.

'Haven't you heard? It's out of God's hands.'

'What is!'

'The whole business. He just wanted to bring us into town, release the site for his nasty Country Club. Well, on the news tonight they read out a list of colleges which the Department of Education want to close completely as surplus to requirements. And lo! there we are at the top.'

'Good Lord,' said Pascoe. 'Can't you appeal?'

'Oh, never fear. There'll be a lot of bloody fighting before the axe falls. But I doubt if we'll talk our way out of this one.'

'Another drink?' said Pascoe. 'I must say, you're taking it all with exemplary calm.'

'Well, to tell the truth, I've been getting a bit sick of it all,' said Ellie. 'I've been thinking how nice it would be to give it all up, retire for a bit, start a family, perhaps.'

'Well, that would need thinking about,' said Pascoe cautiously. 'Starting when, for instance!'

'Oh, I should say, starting about three weeks last Wednesday when we got back from that birthday party and I didn't have time to get to the bathroom cabinet and you said it didn't matter as what was good enough for the Pope was good enough for you.'

'Good Lord,' said Pascoe. 'Well, well, well.'

'Is that all you can say? Aren't you pleased?'

'Hold on,' said Pascoe. 'Let me see. That'll be… October, November, December. That's great! We won't have to go to your mother's for Christmas! Darling, I'm delighted. Come here so I can learn that smirk from an expert.'

The phone started ringing five minutes later but they ignored it. It rang on and on and on but they paid no heed. Finally it stopped.

'You see,' said Ellie, 'if you pay the nasty world no attention, it goes away.'

'Yes,' said Pascoe.

But Shorter had tried not to answer the telephone today and much good it had done him. Though in his case, perhaps the nasty world was there already. There was no doubt in Pascoe's mind that Sandra Burkill's accusation was a fail-safe device. But could Toms have invented such a mass of circumstantial detail?

He recalled the old adage, if you want to tell a lie, tell the truth.

'Peter,' said Ellie warningly. 'The nasty world has gone away. Forget it.'

'I will, I will,' he said fervently.

The phone began to ring again.