The March Hare Murders (9 page)

Stella shrugged her shoulders. She was angry, and even though she tried telling herself that after all she had never really liked either Sam or Winnfrieda very much, that they were queer people, detached, egotistic, she felt hurt and humiliated.

Muttering a curt good-bye, she went out. But Winnfrieda followed her to the door of the shop. There was an uncertain look in her eyes as she looked at Stella’s, almost a scared look.

“Please don’t say anything about those books of Sam’s,” she said. “D’you mind?”

Stella did not reply.

“And Stella——”

“Well?”

“You know I honestly don’t like interfering in other people’s business, don’t you?”

“So it would appear.”

“So you’ll know that isn’t what I want to do when I advise you, do get your brother away from here somehow.”

“But why?”

“I don’t think it’s really a healthy spot for a person who needs peace and quiet.”

“Is that all you want to say?”

“That’s all.”

“Thanks.” Stella went out without saying anything more. She felt wholly bewildered by the way she had been treated.

When she reached home she went up to her bedroom, kicked off her shoes and threw herself down on the bed. She supposed that David was in his room and for a moment thought of going to talk to him. But after all she felt too tired and too irritated. She could not remember when she had felt so tired. She closed her eyes.

As soon as she did so, the silence of the house struck her. She had a sense that there was only emptiness and quiet around her. For no rational reason she suddenly became convinced that there was no one else in the house. But if that was so, if David was not in his room, or in the house at all, this was another opportunity, better than the last, for searching for the revolver. Getting up quickly, she went silently across the room, along the passage, and stood listening at David’s door.

Though she could hear nothing, she knocked and called softly, “David!”

There was no answer.

She started to turn the handle, but changing her mind, she first ran downstairs, looked into each of the rooms and the garden, to make sure that David was really nowhere about. When she had made certain of this, she went upstairs again and into his room.

Her searching began, as before, at the dressing-table. Then she looked in every place where the revolver might be hidden.

Because of her anxiety, she was afraid that her sight would betray her and that she might actually look straight at the revolver and fail to see it, but at the same time she felt that because she wanted so desperately to find it, it must be there, it must be in the room.

It was not in the room.

At last, hoping that she had replaced everything so that David would not realise that his room had been searched, she gave it up and was starting back to her room when she glanced out of the window. She saw David, a book under his arm, come out of the Verinders’ cottage.

•   •   •   •   •

Her mind moved slowly. For a moment she did not believe what she saw. Yet it seemed to her that she and David were looking right into one another’s eyes. Then she told herself that in fact she must be invisible to David, a mere shadow in the darkness behind the window glass. She stood still. David also stood still, half-way along the path to the gate. He looked over his shoulder. It was as if a voice had called to him from inside the cottage.

An instant later Ingrid Verinder came out of the cottage, joined David, and the two walked together to the gate. Turning up the road and climbing over the stile in the hedge, they took the path to the sea. Stella watched until they had disappeared; then she went downstairs. She made herself some strong tea, tea with a lot of milk. She thought of Ingrid and David, as she had seen them last night, standing side by side, watching the fire, and a new feeling of misgiving entered into her. But she was too tired to think any more. When she had drunk the tea, she started peeling the potatoes for dinner.

That evening David said nothing about his visit to the Verinders’. He did not refer to his walk to the sea with Ingrid. As usual, after dinner, he went alone to the pub and came back only after it had closed. Stella and Ferdie heard him come in and go upstairs to his room. On the stairs he stumbled and cursed loudly in a rough, slurred voice. Ferdie looked up from his book and raised his eyebrows. The next day, as David was going to the beach, Stella saw that he was again joined by Ingrid Verinder. That evening he again got drunk.

After that, it seemed to Stella, David saw Ingrid almost every day. But he never said anything about it. Often Stella saw him go down the path to the sea and Ingrid almost immediately follow him. Sometimes they stayed on the shore for several hours. For the first time since meeting her, Stella began to think about Ingrid Verinder and to consider what kind of woman she might be.

She realised now that it was odd that she had never done this before, since for some months she had thought of herself as being in love with Ingrid’s husband. But for some reason she had never thought of Mark as being deeply connected with Ingrid. Stella had taken her as a matter of course, a figure in the background, somewhat beautiful, but only in a heavy, uninteresting way. She was sure that Mark had no serious love for her and that no other woman whom he seemed to love was taking anything away from Ingrid. On the whole Stella had pitied Mark for being married to her, who had probably married him only for his money and his recent fame. Now, all of a sudden, for the first time it occurred to Stella that perhaps Ingrid was as unfaithful to Mark as he was to her, and immediately Stella found herself hating her for it.

Half involuntarily, Stella began to keep count of David’s trips to the beach with Ingrid and to notice how long each one lasted. At the end of about a fortnight, she discovered that another person was doing the same thing. One afternoon, while she was sitting in the garden with some mending, Giles Clay appeared round the corner of the house. He came towards her shyly, muttering a greeting, sat down on the grass facing her and began to tug at a daisy in the turf. Giles had never come alone to see Stella before, and at once she guessed what had brought him.

As he opened awkwardly, she began to feel a kind of excitement. “I expect you’re busy,” he said.

“No,” Stella answered, “not particularly at the moment.”

“You don’t mind if I stick around for a little?”

“Of course not,” she said.

“I’d like to talk to you about something.” He paused and looked at her questioningly. The heavy features of his face were set in rigid shyness. He began to finger the brightly patterned silk scarf that was knotted round his neck. He usually had bright scarves and ties and handkerchiefs. “I may be making a mistake,” he went on. “Perhaps I’m being a fool.”

“Does it matter so much if you are?” Stella asked, going on with her darning.

He laughed uncomfortably. “Well, perhaps not. And I suppose you know, really, what I’m going to say.”

“Do I?” she said.

“About Mark, you know.”

“Oh.”

He nodded.

Stella waited a little, then said, “What a pretty scarf that is you’re wearing, Giles.”

“Oh, do you like it?” He gave a quick, pleased smile. “Yes, I like it myself. I’ve got seventeen silk scarves.”

“Good heavens, however did you manage to spare coupons for so many?” she asked.

“Oh, I know several girls who give me coupons,” he said. “I’ve got forty-two ties.”

“Girls who give
you
coupons?”

“Yes, why not?” he said.

She laughed. “You must have terrific strength of character, Giles.”

He shook his head. “I like scarves and ties and so on,” he said simply.

“Well then, you must be cleverer than you look.”

“If you like this scarf, I’ll give it to you,” he suggested.

“Oh no—but I never thought of you as knowing a lot of girls, Giles.”

“Why not?” he asked self-consciously.

“Oh, I don’t know. … But you seem so wrapped up in your job and Mark.”

“Yes, I am, of course.” He frowned and looked down. “I know it’s a trite thing to say, but I owe everything to Mark.”

“Yet it isn’t much of a job is it, being his secretary?”

“Well, I suppose not, in a way. But if he hadn’t taken me on when he did, I don’t know what would have happened to me. I might have gone to pieces really badly. Mark saw that. We were quite honest with one another, of course. He knew he was taking a risk—I saw to it that he knew that. I wasn’t going to have any deception between us.”

“But I don’t understand,” Stella said. “What risk was he taking?”

“You mean he hasn’t told you?”

She shook her head.

Giles pressed his lips together, looking as if he wished he had not spoken. Then he looked into her eyes. “Did he never tell you about my having been in gaol?”

She stared incredulously.

He went on softly. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t have. I oughtn’t to have thought that he might. He’d never do a thing like that. Yes, I’ve been in gaol, Stella.”

“But—why, Giles?”

“Stealing.”

Stella’s nervous astonishment made her flippant. “A cat-burglar, are you? Well, well.”

“No,” Giles said seriously, “it was the petty cash. It wasn’t much, and I’d have got it straightened out if I’d been given a little more time, but he was a vicious old brute, the boss. I got three months.”

“But what made you take it?”

“Debt.”

“But——”

“Horses, if you must know.”

“I don’t want to know anything you don’t want to tell me.” Stella went on with her half-finished darn. “I suppose you met Mark after—after you came out.”

“Yes, he and Ingrid were engaged by then. He asked me what I thought of doing, and I hadn’t any idea. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get a job, and I was just expecting to have to live on my wits—and I didn’t expect to be particularly good at that. Then Mark offered me this job with him. … You know, I’d do anything for Mark, Stella. He’s done more for me than any other human being, even Ingrid.”

Stella snipped a thread and reached out for the ball of darning silk.

“I’m glad you feel like that,” she said. “It seems some people don’t.”

“A lot of people are jealous of him. But, Stella——”

“Yes?”

“You know what I wanted to come and talk about, don’t you? It may be an awfully stupid thing to do, but I got the feeling I had to. It’s about Ingrid and …”

She helped him. “David?”

“Yes, what’s happening?” he asked in a voice that was suddenly desperate. “What does it mean, Stella?”

Threading her needle, Stella stuck it into the stocking, then laid it down on the grass. Drawing her knees up, she clasped her hands round them. She tried to think clearly before she ventured on an answer.

“I don’t know,” she said at last, “and I don’t really think it’ll be much good talking about it, will it?”

“It’s ever since the night of the fire,” he said.

“Yes, I know.”

“I’ll tell you what I think’s happened. I think Ingrid’s fallen in love with David. I don’t know about him. I know he hates Mark, and it might be just for that reason. On the other hand, perhaps he’s in love too.”

“Then there isn’t much to be done about it, is there?”

“Isn’t there?”

“What can you do?”

“You might send him away.”

“I?”

“He’s your guest, isn’t he?”

All of a sudden, Stella was annoyed. “I don’t see that it’s anything to do with me, and if Ingrid wants to fall in love with David——”

“You don’t understand,” Giles said quickly. “I suppose you think that because Mark is—well, doesn’t expect Ingrid to be jealous of him and so on, he doesn’t care about her. But that’s quite wrong. He loves her, and he’s really completely dependent on her. That’s the sort of person he is. But Ingrid isn’t like that. She could never split up her life like that. If she falls in love with your brother and he wants her, she’ll leave Mark. That’s what the trouble is. She’s a very strong and ruthless person, with very intense feelings, and she’ll walk out without any hesitation if that’s what she wants to do.”

“But if it’s really like that,” Stella said, “there isn’t anything one can do, is there?”

His face became despondent. “I think I’ve annoyed you.”

“A bit,” she said.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t matter. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about all these things too.”

“It might not be too late,” he said. “If you asked him to go away …”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I could do that. He isn’t well, and he’s got nowhere to go.”

“But if staying here is going to lead to real trouble——”

In scared exasperation, she exclaimed, “It won’t. It won’t. It’s all nonsense.”

“You know …” Chewing a grass blade, Giles fixed his eyes on hers. “I really don’t know what Mark would do if Ingrid left him.”

“I should think he’d be human and reasonable,” Stella said.

“Or human and unreasonable. Still, as you say, perhaps there’s nothing to be done. I’m sorry I bothered you with it.”

“You seem much more concerned for Mark’s sake than for Ingrid’s.” She looked at him curiously. “Is that so, really?”

“Yes. … No. … Perhaps.” He made a movement as if to get up, then relaxed again and went on talking. “Ingrid and I get on all right, of course. In a way we’re very fond of each other. But we think about things quite differently. Ingrid’s definite and narrow and sure of herself. That may be her convent education. She was much more protected in her childhood than I was. We were very badly off, you know, and there wasn’t much money for schools. Ingrid got what there was, though I don’t believe the nuns charged anything to speak of, but I went to the local elementary school. Then I got a job as a boots in a hotel. If it hadn’t been for the war, I dare say I’d have ended up as a waiter. But in the R.A.F. I picked up shorthand and typing. …”

“Queer,” Stella said, as he paused, “I’d never have thought you had that sort of background. I always thought you’d been to a public school; in fact I thought I’d heard Mark saying something about that.”

Giles laughed. She thought she caught an odd note of uneasiness in his voice.