I removed the tube of McLeans and Tobias’s face split into a yawn that went all the way down to his tail. I cradled him against me. “Remember, Tobe, you must not bear our mother-in-law a grudge because she suggested sending you to the big cat farm in the sky whenever-if ever-Ben and I have kittens of our own. Tell me, should I fight the urge to creep downstairs and telephone Poppa, begging him to come and remove her, or would you really hate to miss the chance to use her legs for scratching posts?”
I stooped to put him down and noticed Mr. Digby’s suit lying beside the clothes bin where I had left it earlier, uncertain what to do with it. Now I wanted it out of sight. I would roll it up and toss it in the wall cabinet, way at the back. But first I probed through the jacket pockets, then the trouser ones. I wasn’t being nosy, merely responding automatically to putting anything away. And, of course, I was killing time. Ah! What was this? From the jacket breast pocket I removed a snapshot and a small coin. A very small coin.
“Look here, Tobe. Bet you’ve never seen one of these. It’s a farthing. Once the smallest coin in the realm. Not so surprising that Mr. Digby didn’t want the suit back-if it’s that old.”
I sat on the edge of the bath; Tobias nuzzled up onto my shoulder. Together we studied the photo. “Here’s the man of mystery, Mr. D. himself. And who else do we have in the shadow of yon tree? A woman in a skirt and cardigan. And a teenager-probably a girl. It’s hard to tell with that short hair and leather jacket.” I turned the snapshot over and perused the writing on the back. Tobias trod from my left shoulder to my right, meowing for me to continue.
“All right! It says here, ‘Eddy, Wren, and Miss Peerless.’ And, upon close inspection, the woman in the skirt and cardigan does look like a younger Theodora Peerless.” My mind bubbled with possibilities. Reaching up, I patted at the furry face. “What do you make of that, chum?”
Tobias was no help at all. And suddenly sounds of life from below stairs began drifting under the bathroom door. I tucked the photo back in the suit pocket and opened the wall cupboard. I’d have to think of the implications of all this later, when my own life didn’t intrude. That ping was the telephone receiver being lifted. As I settled a sleeping Tobias in the bathroom basin (one of his favourite nesting places), I strained to hear more. Was Magdalene contacting her spouse in an attempt at reconciliation? I felt a small glow. Perhaps my rift with Ben might not be on public display too much longer. With one last look at my puffy face, I headed downstairs. No one in the hall. Either the phone call had been short or no one had answered. What were the odds that Paris and Poppa were home but wearing their earphones?
The glow flickered and died as I entered the kitchen. Was it blatantly obvious I had been crying? I could say my cold was back. Hand on the doorknob, I heard that sound which so often exasperated but was now Beethoven to my ears. Freddy’s voice.
Magdalene murmured something indistinct and then Ben spoke. “Don’t get rattled, Mum. Death is not likely to occur before Dr. Melrose gets here.”
“He’s not the one with a fancy for bumping off elderly women, is he, son? I overheard talk about him on the coach.”
My hand fell off the knob. Ben’s finger must have taken a terrible turn for the worse while I was upstairs wallowing in self-pity. Would he ever forgive me? Did I deserve to be forgiven?
Freddy was slung hammock-style between two chairs. He cocked an acknowledging eyebrow on seeing me and then closed his eyes. Magdalene was hovering over him, mopping at a reddish-brown spot on his shirt-he’d been learning to carve roast beef for almost a fortnight now. And Ben was pouring tea, which seemed all wrong in his disintegrating condition.
“Hello, old sock.” Freddy sounded like he was suffering from a bad case of wrist fatigue.
“Don’t get up for me, Freddy,” I said crisply. Magdalene’s intake of breath filled the room. Ben turned, and Freddy went right on smiling wanly up at me.
“Come to bid me adieu, have you, Ellie?”
“Better not to talk.” Magdalene stopped sponging at the stain. She was hoodwinked, all right. “You need to rest, Frederick.”
“You mean…” I began.
“I mean I am about to die,” replied Freddy serenely. His eyes closed, his hands dragged on the floor.
From the Files of
Monday, 27th April, 7:00 P.M.
President:
Good evening, Mrs. Hanover. Is this a bad line or are your customers having a bit of a singsong around the bar? That’s better. You say you had something of a turnup this evening at The Dark Horse? Freddy Flatts… Gracious me! That disreputable young man who caused such a stir at the Haskell nuptials. One worries about that poor young woman… Absolutely! One only has to look at her-so dreadfully changed in a few months… Oh, quite! Out of the frying pan into the fire when she married that handsome fortune hunter… Has his hair cut a lot, does he? Well, that shouldn’t surprise anyone… I do hope Mrs. Haskell wasn’t the one who attacked her cousin. One couldn’t wonder but… Well, that is good news! Now we mustn’t keep chatting; we’re both busy people. Just wanted to let you know you will be working with Mrs. Millicent Parsnip on the night of the 1st of May, at that Retirement Party we talked about… There won’t be too much for you to do, which is good-this being your first assignment… Yes, The Founder is taking a hand in this one. No, no, it isn’t the irrepressible Mr. Daffy, but don’t worry, he’s about to be finally put to rest. Be assured that the next reports of his demise will not be exaggerated! Now, are you ready for your instructions?
Mrs. Hanover:
A moment, if you please, to wipe one’s eyes. Words cannot express how moved and honoured one is to be part of so momentous an event.
President:
Very good. The Subject To Be Retired on Friday the 1st May is…
17
… “Shot or stabbed?” Hyacinth and Primrose spoke in one voice with intense professional interest.
“Neither. Pinked by a dart thrown by Sid Fowler, who had been so shaken by the mishap that he’d fainted and been in no condition to leave The Dark Horse and bring Freddy home.”
“Most unmanly!” Primrose sounded deeply shocked. “How did cousin Frederick reach Merlin’s Court?”
“Astride his motorbike. I do not believe he seriously considered dying until he saw the effect his wound had upon Magdalene, whereupon his devious mind flew to the possibilities of the effect on Jill. Someone would break the news to her and she would come rushing to his side. Only, needless to say, she didn’t. And by the time her get-well card and recommendation of a honey poultice reached Freddy, he had relapsed into full health. Dr. Melrose’s main concern was that Freddy was up-to-date on his tetanus; after which he prescribed an antiseptic cream, then a stiff drink for all of us.”
Primrose laid her hand on mine. “What did the doctor say about Ben’s finger?”
“Nothing, because he didn’t know about it. I didn’t speak up because I told myself I wasn’t going to be labelled a meddlesome wife and Ben had a mouth of his own. If he was rendered speechless by fear of having the finger lanced and getting jabbed elsewhere with a needle, his mother could whisper in Dr. Melrose’s ear. Magdalene informed me later, at a moment already bleak, that she wouldn’t have dreamed of interfering. A husband and wife have their own lives to lead. Famous last words…”
When I awoke the next morning, Tuesday, Ben had already left for Abigail’s. He had left something behind: a note cut lopsidedly in the shape of a heart. Fingers trembling, I opened it. Be mine tonight, it said. Tears washed down my face. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve Ben! I had been such a shrew! How dare I deluge him with my relations, then turn snippy when his woebegone little mother requested the minimum in consideration-a roof over her head until… until… I swung my legs out of bed. Ah, Ellie, we are going to see some changes made in you! Ben’s mother shall reside here for as long as she chooses.