‘I’ll help you,’ Delphick said. ‘Is it in the boot?’
I pushed him back. ‘We’ll do a human chain between car and kitchen. There are five of us, so that’ll mean me at the car and June in the kitchen.’
‘I’d be a much better person if people trusted me. Anyway, I’ve got to go and work on a poem. I’ll be in my study when it’s time for drinks.’
He was so much himself I couldn’t help but admire him. I almost liked him for the fact that you certainly knew where you were when you were with Delphick, something you couldn’t say for everyone.
The notion of going to Doggerel Bank certainly seemed a good one when I looked at the land round about. The track to it descended in one or two curves through fields and then woods, to the house which was invisible from the minor road above, which seemed to go nowhere and had hardly any traffic along it. Below Doggerel Bank the track led to a clear stream which was fordable by my sturdy vehicle, and which had a kind of plank-and-girder footbridge over it. I explored the area with Dismal, while June and Clegg got a meal together out of the provisions we’d disembarked.
Beyond the stream the motorable track curved westerly up the hillside, though after a few hundred yards it was lost sight of in more trees. I reconnoitred far enough to see that there was an outlet to another road running parallel to the eastern side of the valley.
Doggerel Bank was a world of its own and miles from anywhere. It was as much of a hideout as Peppercorn Cottage and it was a wonder Moggerhanger never got his hands on it. Dismal splashed and leapt, telling me that he thought so as well. We went back up the hill, sun dropping behind the ridgeline like a yellow Smartie. I dragged in a couple of dead branches and jumped on them in the yard so that they would fit the fireplace, because even in August it was cold in Yorkshire.
Wayland was asleep in the car. Clegg had gone for a stroll. June informed me, as she laid the table in the large kitchen, that Delphick, as befitted the Lord of the Manor, was in his workroom until supper was ready. Dismal flopped lengthwise in front of the stove. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘Reach in that high cupboard,’ she said, ‘and get some plates and glasses off the top shelf.’
I set them on the table. ‘What else?’
‘Talk to me.’
‘Glad to. Doesn’t Ronald ever talk?’ I sat at the table and poured two whiskies. ‘Water?’
‘A drop.’ She put bread and knife down. ‘He only says “I want”, and complains about his hard life. But I’m with him for such a short time that it doesn’t matter.’
‘What are you doing these days to earn a living?’
‘I’m a hostess in a gaming club.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We rob people — mostly Arabs.’
‘Do you mind it?’
‘I don’t like robbing anybody. It bothers me more and more. So much robbing goes on I often think I’ll choke if I put up with it a minute longer. But I have to. I’ve got my daughter at boarding school and that costs three thousand a year, apart from the uniform and all the extras. She has dancing classes and goes riding. She goes on a foreign holiday. I couldn’t provide that on a saleswoman’s wage. And then I have to live in London, though I only run a small flat in Kentish Town, where I live with my girlfriend.’
‘Janet?’
‘That’s right. I have to keep her, as well. She’s unemployable, and totally unable to look after herself, so what can I do? I got her a job last year serving dinners at a school for backward girls. She should have been at the school herself. She couldn’t cope. Another woman worked there who was happily married with five children. I came home one night and found them in bed together — my bed. She’d seduced the woman, and the woman had fallen for her. It had been going on for weeks, and I didn’t know. What a fuss and bother that was. I threw them out, never having fancied a threesome, not with women, anyway. They’re enough bother one at a time. Some weeks later she came back, sweet as pie. I could never make out what happened to the woman with the five kids. I expect she went back to her husband. Sometimes I feel like giving the whole thing up, but how can I? Ronald’s hopeless. All men are, but who isn’t? Most women are, as well, but I can cope better with a woman. I lived on my own for a while, early on, between affairs, but it was impossible. I lost my job, and all but went to pieces. But I came out of it somehow, and got my present work four years ago. It’s hard, but it pays marvellously.’
I poured more drinks. She took the leg of mutton out of the oven and stabbed it with the knife. ‘Is it one of Moggerhanger’s places, where you work?’
She pushed the pan back in. ‘Yes. When I was down in the dumps I went to see him, and he set me on. Gave me two hundred quid and told me to buy some clothes. He’s very loyal, Claud. We’d finished our affair years before, but he remembered me. He always sticks by you, if you’ve been connected in any way with him. There’s not much old-fashioned loyalty these days, but Claud’s got it. I’m not saying he’s the best of people, but he’s been good to me, so what more can I say? Anyway, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’ She tried the potatoes, but they weren’t done either. She got to work making five plates of hors d’oeuvres, putting a hard-boiled egg, half a lettuce leaf, a tomato, black and green olives, a pickle, a blade of chicory, a sardine and a sheet of ham on each plate. The sight made me hungry. ‘You’d make somebody a good wife.’
She laughed. ‘Maybe. But get down five wineglasses, love, and open those two bottles of red.’
I was glad to help. She wasn’t a bad sort. If I ruined Moggerhanger with my plan of handing the contents of the boot over to Scotland Yard or Interpol I would ruin her as well, and God knew how many others. I would certainly put the kaibosh on myself, because even if Moggerhanger got sent down there would be a skeleton organisation left to keep his firm going, and get even with people like me. If June knew what was in the car and why it was there, I thought, she would do all she could to stop me getting away, and see to it that the news went through to Moggerhanger that I was at Doggerel Bank.
I supposed she wondered in any case what I was doing there with his Rolls-Royce, and coming with sufficient provisions to last a week. Moggerhanger never gave his hirelings such leave to hang around. She must have become suspicious the moment Dismal sprang at her tits. I’d been very dim, otherwise I’d have woven a story to explain my presence more convincingly.
Fortunately there was no telephone at the house, or she might well have been on the blower while I was out for a walk, trying to do Moggerhanger a favour in return for those which he had done for her. The only way to get in touch with the outside world was to walk up the hill and use the phone box at the crossroads about a mile away.
My heart nearly stopped beating, but she was too busy to notice. ‘Where’s the bathroom, love?’
‘Outside the door, and up to your right.’
Such directions had always given me access to every room in the house. On cat’s feet I went upstairs, opened all doors, and saw no one. Downstairs, I entered Delphick’s study, and that was empty as well. So was every other room, except the kitchen. I even looked in the broom cupboards. It became plain that Delphick had gone. For once in his life he was doing something for June, the mother of his child, and I supposed she had talked him into it by suggesting that if it turned out to be important that Moggerhanger knew of our presence the reward would be so great he’d be able to put in central heating.
Her plan was a pretty one, and the five plates were arranged with the precision of an executioner over the last breakfast of the condemned. She would feed us a banquet, get us drowsy if not blind drunk — all at our expense — and put us to bed so that, on waking up, Moggerhanger’s squad cars would be coming down the lane and blocking it. They could get from London in under three hours, a fact which set my tripes shivering. Spleen Manor was only thirty miles away, so if any of the mob was there they could be here in an hour. If Delphick had phoned London half an hour ago, they might appear any minute.