After the Armistice Ball (32 page)

‘My dear Dr Milne,’ I began, greetings over, ‘if you send me a bill this time it will be no more than I deserve, but please let me trespass for a moment. I’d like you to back me up in my efforts to get my boys to maturity in one piece. You didn’t meet my little boys, did you? Well, they are monkeys. I use the term advisedly. They’ve been learning mountaineering at school this year and I cannot keep them off the roofs. The stable roofs have always been a draw, but now they’re up on the house roofs day in and day out and will not listen to me telling them they could kill themselves. Now, here’s how you can help me. I told them a heavily edited version of what happened to that poor little kitchen maid of the Duffys’.’

‘You did what?’ He almost shouted, and Alec too was looking at me as though I was gaga.

‘What I mean is I told them that a girl I knew jumped from the tiniest height and ended up dead. She did jump, didn’t she? I’m almost sure you said she jumped, or that’s what I had understood you to mean.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Dr Milne. ‘She jumped.’ I wiggled my eyebrows at Alec.

‘And I’ve been telling them that jumping is safer than falling because you’ve planned for it and that this poor girl jumped off something miles lower than our roofs here – you remember the house, don’t you? Terrible Gothic additions, turrets everywhere – so then they said, What did she jump off, Mother? And I had to admit that I didn’t know. And now they think it was a cliff-top or something and they won’t heed my warnings the least bit. And to cut a long story short, we’ve got ourselves into a betting situation over it. There are scones at stake. Shocking when one thinks of the poor creature, I know, but there it is. Now, what did she jump off? Do you know?’

Alec’s face was caught midway between stunned admiration and disbelief, but I held out the earpiece towards him to let him hear Dr Milne laughing cosily at the other end and he mimed a salute to me. I smirked back, and put the earpiece to my ear again.

‘She jumped from the landing, my dear Mrs Gilver. Down the stairwell. Hit her head as she fell and snapped her neck when she landed.’ We both sighed.

‘Well, since there couldn’t have been more than a dozen steps in a cottage staircase, I should think that might sober my little demons no end. Thank you, Dr Milne.’

‘You’re very welcome, Mrs Gilver. But don’t dwell on it now, or you’ll give yourself nightmares again.’

‘You are very kind to think of that,’ I said. ‘Can I ask one more thing?’ I knew I was headed for thin ice now, but I could not help myself. ‘I suppose I’m right, saying to them that a fall is even worse than a jump? Even more dangerous, I mean.’

‘I would imagine so.’

‘And, I suppose, a shove is worst of all.’

There was silence at the other end.

‘But can one tell the difference?’

More silence. Alec was making furious gestures at me and I could feel a pulse quicken as it rose in my throat.

‘Because they do muck about up there, pretending to push one another and whatnot. It’s terrifying to watch. And if I could say I had it from a reputable doctor that a shove and a fall are both worse than a jump and that even a doctor can’t tell the difference . . . Well, the thought of one dead and the other in jail for fratricide might have some sway.’

‘I think I would rather you did not quote me on this topic,’ said Dr Milne, after a huge pause. ‘As you say, a reputable doctor has a great deal of sway and has to be very careful.’ My mouth dropped open in amazement.

‘What?’ Alec hissed, jumping to his feet. ‘What’s he saying?’

‘I suppose so,’ I said as calmly as I could. ‘Well, be assured that if I need to call upon a witness for corroboration, I shall leave you out of it.’ I gave my best attempt at a gay little laugh. ‘I shan’t see buttered scones for days to come, Dr Milne.’

‘My condolences,’ he intoned, not even trying to match my gaiety.

We rang off.

I tried to relay it word for word to Alec; at least I got the gist of the important bits.

‘A reputable doctor has a great deal of sway?’ Alec echoed. ‘Oh my God, Dandy, he’s going to sue you for defamation. You just wait. You’re not safe to be let out.’

‘I like that,’ I said. ‘What would you have done? Nothing, that’s what. And where would we be once you had? Nowhere.’

‘Well, where have
you
got us?’ he said.

‘I’ve shown Dr Milne up for what he is,’ I said. ‘I always knew he was. The way he spoke about the girl that very first time – you weren’t there, Alec, you don’t know. And now it’s quite sure. Just because she was a servant (he thought) and had got into trouble he didn’t even bother to wonder whether she had jumped or was pushed. Didn’t even think to question Lena’s version of things. A snob and a fool.’

‘A snob and a fool now thoroughly on his guard. I wish you had talked things over with me before launching into it, Dandy. That was a very silly thing to do.’

So, from self-taught philosopher to reckless idiot overnight. There was ages until the dressing bell, but I stamped off anyway, feeling under-appreciated and sick of the lot of them. (I was even cross with Donald and Teddy for the playing on the roof.)

Grant, evidently, was in one of her mellower moods and did not seem put out to be summoned early. She had taken delivery that afternoon of a collar and cuffs in mauve rabbit-fur edged with seed pearls, which she planned to attach to a lilac chiffon evening wrap of mine. I could not remember ever hearing of these monstrous articles, much less rubber-stamping their purchase, and when Grant opined that there was plenty of time to get them on in time for dinner that night I panicked.

‘Bit of a waste, isn’t it?’ I asked, cajolingly. ‘Only Mr Gilver and Mr Osborne to see them.’

Grant sighed.

‘Yes, I daresay, madam,’ she said, laying the collar back in its tissue paper nest. ‘When’s the next time anyone will be here?’ By anyone, I knew, Grant meant any ladies. We make no pretence about that.

‘As soon as I can arrange it,’ I said feelingly, stepping out of my dress and turning to let her unbutton my underbodice. ‘I am sick up to my teeth of men and boys, Grant. I’d join a convent for tuppence.’

‘Oh, madam, no,’ she said, genuinely shocked. ‘Grey serge and no lipstick. And all that praying must give them knees like leather. They must thank heavens habit hems never go high enough to show them.’

Grant’s take on the preoccupations of nuns, utterly serious and utterly typical, cheered me up no end.

‘Well, all right,’ I said. ‘Not a convent. Perhaps a harem.’ I suspect she is unshockable, but it does not stop me from trying. She smirked at this, though, and I saw that I had failed again.

‘What have “men” done anyway, madam?’ she asked presently through a mouthful of hairpins. I have offered many times to hold the pins and pass them to her, but I do not pass them quickly enough or hold them out at the right angle and she is best left to manage it herself.

‘Nothing out of the ordinary,’ I said. ‘Just been unwilling to face up to the plainer side of life and made everything more difficult as a result.’

‘Oh, that,’ said Grant. ‘As to that, madam, the kitchen cat brought in a mouse this morning and started to eat it right under the upper servants’ breakfast table, and guess who crawled under with a bit of newspaper and got it away from the little beast? Mrs Tilling. Mr Pallister was the colour of milk.’

‘Exactly,’ I said, lifting my chin while she untied my dressing cape. ‘What if the mouse had still been alive, though?’

‘Lord, I’d have run a mile!’ said Grant.

‘Me too,’ I said, and even the thought of it made me tuck my feet up off the carpet. ‘Men do have their uses,’ I concluded.

‘No doubt about it, madam,’ said Grant. ‘You said yourself you’d prefer a harem to a convent.’ (When it comes to shock statements, Grant outstrips me without trying.) ‘But birth, death and nappies, as my mother always used to say.’

I stared at her.

‘Birth, death . . .?’

‘And nappies, madam. Things men don’t do. Are you all right?’

I didn’t answer, but continued to stare.

‘Madam?’

‘I shan’t need you tonight, Grant,’ I said. ‘And tomorrow is your day off, isn’t it? Well then, let’s say I’ll do without you in the morning too.’ I stood and turned slowly, arms out, while she inspected me.

‘I hope I haven’t said anything to offend you, madam,’ said Grant. ‘I meant nothing by it.’

‘Absolutely not,’ I said. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’

I waited until she had cleared the end of the passageway and disappeared through the door to the servants’ stairs, then, shoes in hand, I crept along to the guest wing on tiptoe. Before I reached Alec’s door he emerged dressed for dinner but, seeing me, he backed into his room again and drew me after him.

‘Is your valet –?’

‘He’s long gone,’ said Alec. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m going to come upstairs straight after dinner,’ I said. ‘And then tomorrow the story is that . . . let’s say . . . Daisy Esslemont rang very early and I’ve gone off to see her at Croys. I shall think of some reason Hugh won’t question. Actually, I’m going to drive to Gatehouse tonight.’

‘You’re not tackling Dr Milne on your own,’ said Alec. ‘He’s backed into a corner, Dandy. There’s no telling what he might do.’

‘I’m not tackling Dr Milne,’ I said. ‘Alone or otherwise. I’m going to track down our witness and I need to leave tonight in case Dr Milne has the same idea.’

‘Our witness? What makes you so sure we have one?’

‘We do.’

‘And what makes you think it won’t be as bad an idea for you to tackle him on your own as –’

‘It’s not a him,’ I said. ‘It’s a her.’

‘Who?’ said Alec.

‘I don’t know her name or where she lives,’ I said. ‘But I know she exists. She’s the person who laid out Cara’s body before the undertakers took it away. And unless I’m very much mistaken, she is also the local midwife. She will know not only that the girl she laid out was not a servant, but also that she was still pregnant when she died, and perhaps – since she’s probably the nearest thing there is to a doctor for those who cannot afford Dr Milne – she might also know that Cara’s injuries came from being shoved over, not from jumping off any landing. I don’t know how they managed to hush her up, Alec – money probably – but I shall unhush her if it’s the last thing I do. Now go and entertain Hugh while I prepare a few things and . . .’ I hesitated and may even have blushed although the lamplight was too low for him to see me. ‘Could you possibly make sure that he has a great deal to drink tonight at dinner and after? I don’t think he’s likely to come to my room, but it’s best to be sure.’

By ten o’clock, dressed in a warm coat in case I ended up sleeping in the motor car, I was huddled in the porch of the side door plucking up the nerve to start walking. The stable block is just around the corner of the billiard room and across the yard and it was a trip I made daily without thinking, being generally too impatient to wait for my little Austin motor to be brought round. Now though, as I set off, the carriage house doors seemed to dwindle into the distance and the yard stretched endlessly in front of me. The stone chippings too crunched explosively under my tread, like horses eating apples, and my neck grew stiff with the effort not to peer around me.

Alec had urged me to take his hired motor but my own, ramshackle as it might be, was at least familiar and was small enough for me to roll it out of the garage with one foot on the running board and one on the ground. This I soon did, then hopped in and pulled the door to without slamming it. I hoped against hope that it would continue to roll down the gentle slope of the yard and the back drive and that I should not have to start the engine until safely away from the house. It was agonizingly slow at first, barely moving. I could hear individual stones on the drive popping under the tyres as I inched towards the first of the gates, then gradually we gathered some speed, hurtling down the bumpy drive and shooting at last out of the gates on to the road and away.

It was light by the time I pulled off on the moor above Gatehouse, but too early for visiting, and I thought anyway that my mission would be the better for waiting until I had rested. Now, sick and gritty-eyed with exhaustion, I did not feel I could rely on myself to navigate the extraordinary interview I hoped was to come. I walked around the motor car a few times until my back and neck began to ease and then got into the passenger side, curled up and closed my eyes.

Awakened by the sound of a cart clopping past on the road beside me, I opened my eyes on to dazzling brightness and felt sure I had slept away the morning, but a glance at my watch told me that it was only just seven o’clock. Melting hot in my thick coat, still screwing up my eyes against the glare, and with my throat so dry that it clicked when I tried to swallow, I started the car and began the descent towards the town. Fearing to drive down the main street and pass Dr Milne on an early call, however, I veered off to the west at the fork in the road and from there picked my way among the criss-crossing lanes towards the sea until I arrived at my destination, stopped the car and let myself in at the gate. The cabbages looked in very good heart, I noticed as I made my way to the front door, hardly any slug holes at all.

I saw through the kitchen window that Mrs Marshall was dispensing porridge to an astonishing number of assorted large sons and small grandchildren and she came to the door with the ladle still in her hands. She cried out in delight at the sight of me and lifted her arms like a runner breaking the winning tape (causing flecks of porridge to leap off the ladle and spatter the floor around her). I wondered for a moment why my appearance should cause such immoderate joy, and then I remembered that the last thing I had promised was to tell her when naughty Cara was found and brought home again. My face must have betrayed something of what I felt because hers fell, and her mouth was turned down at the corners as she nodded me towards the parlour and returned to the kitchen.

‘Just leave they plates and get on with you,’ I heard her say. ‘Jock, Willie, your pieces are ready standing at the back door. Peggy, tie your ribbon or you’ll lose it. Jean, put the wee one’s boots on his right feet before you go. And don’t any of you come through the room, mind. Granny’s busy.’ She sidled back into the parlour and sat opposite me.