Chapter 21 #2
“Yes, darling. It’s rude to point, remember.” Mrs. Yarborough gave Alec a hostile look, the first notice she had taken of him since entering.
The younger boy immediately burst into tears. “We didn’t mean to—”
The elder kicked him on the ankle. “Shut up, Adrian!” he hissed.
A young and nervous maid came in with a tray. “Mrs. Yarborough said to bring tea, my lady.”
“That’s quite all right, Dilys. Mr. Fletcher, you’ve met my daughter Mrs. Yarborough, I believe. These two are my grandsons, Reginald and Adrian.”
Prompted by a nudge from their mother, the boys muttered, “How do you do” before making for the tray, which the maid set on the table by the window.
“I don’t want milk. I want tea with lots of sugar,” Reginald demanded, while Adrian picked the cherries out of a hunk of cake and dropped them on his brother’s plate, then stuffed the cake into his mouth.
Alec made his excuses and departed. Tomorrow the police station, he promised himself.
Daisy and Miller were watching the sunset when Gwen, looking slightly less worn out after her lie-down, joined them in the drawing room.
“Tea is on its way,” she said. “I’m sorry you two have been left to your own devices.”
“In the circs,” said Daisy, “we hardly expect to be entertained. Did you enquire after Mr. Gooch on your way down? How is he?”
“Beginning to be restless. The nurse says it’s a hopeful sign that he’s not still lying like a log. I’m so thankful!”
“ ‘Thankful’?” Babs enquired sardonically, coming in, breeched and booted. “What is there to be thankful for?”
“Mr. Gooch seems to be on the mend.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing. One less murder, and maybe the fear of death will induce him to confess to the other two. Where’s tea? I could eat a horse!”
“Not mine.” Jack appeared in jodhpurs and riding boots. “I say, Mrs. Fletcher, do you object to a slight equine effluvium? Just say the word and I’ll go and change.”
“Not for my sake.” Daisy was pleased, though surprised, to see him so much more composed.
He was closely followed by a couple of maids with the tea things. Gwen poured. Jack brought Daisy her tea and a generous selection from the array of sandwiches, biscuits, and cakes.
As he returned to get his own tea, Babs asked him where he’d been riding.
“Over the Edge.”
“The Edge of the World.”
Gwen laughed. “That’s what we used to call it,” she told Miller. “Up the hill and over the Edge of the World.”
She and Babs and Jack started reminiscing about long-ago rides. Miller came over to Daisy, looking rather down in the mouth.
“You see,” he said, “we’re tuned to different wavelengths.”
“ ‘Wavelengths’?” she asked cautiously. “Isn’t that something to do with the wireless?”
“That’s right, among other things. Sorry. I meant, half the time I have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“But presumably Jack knows all about wavelengths, which I don’t. And I always preferred a bicycle to a horse. I liked riding ponies, when I was little, but horses are so big.”
“I like bicycling.” Miller cheered up.
“Well, Gwen and I used to go biking together when she came to stay at Fairacres. And you have a motor-car, and she drives. And I am absolutely determined to learn to drive,” Daisy added.
Jack heard her. “Don’t let a relative teach you,” he advised. “I taught Gwen, and believe me, it’s a recipe for murder.” He turned bright red as a horrified silence fell. “You know what I mean! Mrs. Fletcher, would you like another cup of tea?”
“Yes, please, and I wouldn’t say no to another macaroon. They’re so frightfully moreish.”
He fetched her cup. While it was being refilled, a maid came in and told Miller the sergeant had rung up from the Three Ravens.
Miller went off to fetch him, and Jack brought Daisy her tea.
He set a plate of macaroons dangerously close.
Daisy swore to herself that she’d only eat one, or at most two.
One each for herself and the baby. Almonds and egg whites must be good for both of them, weren’t they?
“I’m awfully sorry,” Jack said in a low voice, sitting down next to her, “for what I said about teaching Gwen to drive. Of all the asinine remarks!”
“Exactly the sort of thing that does slip out at just the wrong moment,” she said lightly. “It’s bound to; that’s what’s on your mind.”
“I’ve been doing my best not to think about it.
But I did come to one conclusion while I was out: It doesn’t really matter whether Mrs. Gooch’s letter is true or not.
I never had any great desire to be Sir John, and when I’m working as an engineer, no one will care a hoot.
It might be better not to use the title, even if it turns out I’m entitled to it.
I wouldn’t want the other fellows to think I expect to trade on it. ”
“That’s just how I feel! Except,” Daisy confessed, “I’m afraid I did rather trade on the Honourable at first, when I started writing, just to get the first commission.”
“It’s harder for girls,” Jack said generously.
“Look at the trouble Babs has had being taken seriously. No one would have thought twice if I’d taken over the estate, however little I know about farming.
She’ll do a far better job than I ever could.
She and Gwen will still be my sisters, whatever the truth of the matter. ”
“I should hope so!”
“I’m not so sure about Addie. She may decide to disown me, which would be no great loss, except that I’d like to have a hand in straightening out my nephews.
But Mother will always be Mother, even if she isn’t really.
” He paused. “You know, if Mrs. Gooch really is . . . was my mother, I’m glad I liked her.
And I’m very sorry she’s dead, but I didn’t really know her, after all. Mother is Mother.”
“Have you told her so? I can’t help feeling she must be wondering how you feel about it all.”
“Ye-es. Yes, I know I ought. It’s . . . Somehow it’s easier to talk to you about it than to the family.”
“That’s often the way. But—”
“I know, I must talk to Mother. I wonder if she’ll tell me whether it’s true or not.”
“I shouldn’t ask, if I were you.”
“I expect the police will find out soon enough. They’re just waiting for that to arrest me, aren’t they? No, sorry, pretend I didn’t say that. I didn’t shoot them, but even I can see I’m by far the best prospect.”
“If you ask me, Gooch is quite as likely,” said Daisy. “Jealousy is—”
“Daisy!” Alec came in from the front hall, looking irritable.
“Hello, darling. Have you had tea?”
“Do sit down,” Gwen said. “I’ll ring for some fresh.”
“Thank you, but I’ve already had mine. Daisy, there’s a minor point or two I hope you can clear up for me. We’ll go to the billiard room.”
“Right-oh.” Daisy hurriedly swallowed the last bite of her macaroon—oh dear, had she really eaten half a plateful?—and washed it down with the last of her tea.
Meanwhile, she racked her brain over what she might have done to annoy him.
Her conscience was clear, apart from eating more macaroons than twins or even triplets could justify.
Well, fairly clear. Perhaps she should not have encouraged Jack to go and talk to Lady Tyndall about Mrs. Gooch’s letter, but Alec didn’t know about that, and anyway, it was a perfectly natural thing for Jack to do.