AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You must have X-ray eyes,” I said. “She looks completely shapeless to me.”
Mary Grey laughed.
“It’s these schools,” she said. “They seem to take a pride in turning out girls who preen themselves on looking like nothing on earth. They call it being sweet and unsophisticated. Sometimes it takes a whole season before a girl can pull herself together and look human. Don’t worry, leave it all to me.”
“Right,” I said. “I’ll come back and fetch her about six.”
II
Marcus Kent was pleased with me. He told me that I surpassed his wildest expectations.
“You must have the constitution of an elephant,” he said, “to make a comeback like this. Oh well, wonderful what country air and no late hours or excitements will do for a man if he can only stick it.”
“I grant you your first two,” I said. “But don’t think that the country is free from excitements. We’ve had a good deal in my part.”
“What sort of excitement?”
“Murder,” I said.
Marcus Kent pursed up his mouth and whistled.
“Some bucolic love tragedy? Farmer lad kills his lass?”
“Not at all. A crafty, determined lunatic killer.”
“I haven’t read anything about it. When did they lay him by the heels?”
“They haven’t, and it’s a she!”
“Whew! I’m not sure that Lymstock’s quite the right place for you, old boy.”
I said firmly:
“Yes, it is. And you’re not going to get me out of it.”
Marcus Kent has a low mind. He said at once:
“So that’s it! Found a blonde?”
“Not at all,” I said, with a guilty thought of Elsie Holland. “It’s merely that the psychology of crime interests me a good deal.”
“Oh, all right. It certainly hasn’t done you any harm so far, but just make sure that your lunatic killer doesn’t obliterate you.”
“No fear of that,” I said.
“What about dining with me this evening? You can tell me all about your revolting murder.”
“Sorry. I’m booked.”
“Date with a lady—eh? Yes, you’re definitely on the mend.”
“I suppose you could call it that,” I said, rather tickled at the idea of Megan in the role.
I was at Mirotin’s at six o’clock when the establishment was officially closing. Mary Grey came to meet me at the top of the stairs outside the showroom. She had a finger to her lips.
“You’re going to have a shock! If I say it myself, I’ve put in a good bit of work.”
I went into the big showroom. Megan was standing looking at herself in a long mirror. I give you my word I hardly recognized her! For the minute it took my breath away. Tall and slim as a willow with delicate ankles and feet shown off by sheer silk stockings and well-cut shoes. Yes, lovely feet and hands, small bones—quality and distinction in every line of her. Her hair had been trimmed and shaped to her head and it was glowing like a glossy chestnut. They’d had the sense to leave her face alone. She was not made-up, or if she was it was so light and delicate that it did not show. Her mouth needed no lipstick.
Moreover there was about her something that I had never seen before, a new innocent pride in the arch of her neck. She looked at me gravely with a small shy smile.
“I do look—rather nice, don’t I?” said Megan.
“Nice?” I said. “Nice isn’t the word! Come on out to dinner and if every second man doesn’t turn round to look at you I’ll be surprised. You’ll knock all the other girls into a cocked hat.”
Megan was not beautiful, but she was unusual and striking looking. She had personality. She walked into the restaurant ahead of me and, as the head waiter hurried towards us, I felt the thrill of idiotic pride that a man feels when he has got something out of the ordinary with him.
We had cocktails first and lingered over them. Then we dined. And later we danced. Megan was keen to dance and I didn’t want to disappoint her, but for some reason or other I hadn’t thought she would dance well. But she did. She was light as a feather in my arms, and her body and feet followed the rhythm perfectly.
“Gosh!” I said. “You can dance!”
She seemed a little surprised. “Well, of course I can. We had dancing class every week at school.”
“It takes more than dancing class to make a dancer,” I said.
We went back to our table.
“Isn’t this food lovely?” said Megan. “And everything!”
She heaved a delighted sigh.
“Exactly my sentiments,” I said.
It was a delirious evening. I was still mad. Megan brought me down to earth when she said doubtfully:
“Oughtn’t we to be going home?”
My jaw dropped. Yes, definitely I was mad. I had forgotten everything! I was in a world divorced from reality, existing in it with the creature I had created.
“Good Lord!” I said.
I realized that the last train had gone.
“Stay there,” I said. “I’m going to telephone.”
I rang up the Llewellyn Hire people and ordered their biggest and fastest car to come round as soon as possible.
I came back to Megan. “The last train has gone,” I said. “So we’re going home by car.”
“Are we? What fun!”
What a nice child she was, I thought. So pleased with everything, so unquestioning, accepting all my suggestions without fuss or bother.
The car came, and it was large and fast, but all the same it was very late when we came into Lymstock.
Suddenly conscience-stricken, I said, “They’ll have been sending out search parties for you!”
But Megan seemed in an equable mood. She said vaguely:
“Oh, I don’t think so. I often go out and don’t come home for lunch.”
“Yes, my dear child, but you’ve been out for tea and dinner too.”
However, Megan’s lucky star was in the ascendant. The house was dark and silent. On Megan’s advice, we went round to the back and threw stones at Rose’s window.
In due course Rose looked out and with many suppressed exclamations and palpitations came down to let us in.
“Well now, and I saying you were asleep in your bed. The master and Miss Holland”—(slight sniff after Miss Holland’s name)—“had early supper and went for a drive. I said I’d keep an eye to the boys. I thought I heard you come in when I was up in the nursery trying to quiet Colin, who was playing up, but you weren’t about when I came down so I thought you’d gone to bed. And that’s what I said when the master came in and asked for you.”
I cut short the conversation by remarking that that was where Megan had better go now.
“Good night,” said Megan, “and thank you awfully. It’s been the loveliest day I’ve ever had.”
I drove home slightly light-headed still, and tipped the chauffeur handsomely, offering him a bed if he liked. But he preferred to drive back through the night.
The hall door had opened during our colloquy and as he drove away it was flung wide open and Joanna said:
“So it’s you at last, is it?”
“Were you worried about me?” I asked, coming in and shutting the door.
Joanna went into the drawing room and I followed her. There was a coffee pot on the trivet and Joanna made herself coffee whilst I helped myself to a whisky and soda.
“Worried about you? No, of course not. I thought you’d decided to stay in town and have a binge.”
“I’ve had a binge—of a kind.”
I grinned and then began to laugh.
Joanna asked what I was laughing at and I told her.
“But Jerry, you must have been mad—quite mad!”
“I suppose I was.”
“But, my dear boy, you can’t do things like that—not in a place like this. It will be all round Lymstock tomorrow.”
“I suppose it will. But, after all, Megan’s only a child.
”
“She isn’t. She’s twenty. You can’t take a girl of twenty to London and buy her clothes without a most frightful scandal. Good gracious, Jerry, you’ll probably have to marry the girl.”
Joanna was half serious, half laughing.
It was at that moment that I made a very important discovery. “Damn it all,” I said. “I don’t mind if I do. In fact— I should like it.”
A very funny expression came over Joanna’s face. She got up and said dryly, as she went towards the door:
“Yes, I’ve known that for some time….”
She left me standing, glass in hand, aghast at my new discovery.
