Patricia Wentworth - The Clock Strikes Twelve

He waited.

Phyllida lifted her eyes and said,

“I’ll believe you-”

“All right, then here goes. The June before we were married-we’ve got to get back to that. We hadn’t ever met. We didn’t meet until September, when Mr. Paradine suddenly asked me to dine, I don’t know why. I didn’t even know you by sight. I was working pretty hard and not taking much time off. Cadogan said I was working too hard. He wanted me to take a week-end off and get right away. Well, I bumped into a chap I used to know. He’d got a spot of leave, and he asked me to join a week-end party at a place he’d got on the river. In the end we didn’t go there. We went to a road-house instead-himself, and me, and a couple of girls-Doris for him, Maisie for me. It was a pretty rackety party. We kept it up late and we went the pace a bit. There wasn’t anything more in it than that as far as Maisie and I were concerned. She was the sort of girl that’s out for a good time and can’t get enough of it. She wasn’t very old, and she was just cram full of vitality-you could almost see the sparks flying. She was a good sort… Well, that’s that. We started back. I’d a bit of a hang-over-I can’t say whether that had anything to do with what happened. I don’t drink as a rule. I suppose my reactions may have been affected-I don’t know. Anyhow we had a smash. A lorry came blinding out of a side road, and I wasn’t quite quick enough. We turned over. The car wasn’t damaged, but Maisie was knocked out. We took her into the nearest house, and of course we had to give our names and addresses. Maisie came round all right, and when the police had finished with us we went on. I drove her home, and that was the end of it as far as I was concerned.”

Phyllida’s lips parted. She took a quick breath, but she did not speak. Her eyes never moved from his face.

He jerked with his shoulder and said, “All right-I’m coming to the rest of it. It didn’t happen for another three months. I met you, and I began to fall in love with you. After I came up here at the end of September I was pretty sure it was the real thing. I was rather walking on air. Then I bumped into Doris-the other girl. She was in a restaurant with a fellow I knew-not the same fellow. I went over and spoke to them. She was a bit tight, and she went for me tooth and nail-said I’d a nerve to come and speak to her after what I’d done to Maisie. I wanted to know what I’d done, and she said didn’t I know, and I said no I didn’t. After that she calmed down a bit and told me I’d better go and see for myself. So I did. She was paralysed-something gone wrong with her back after the accident. She didn’t feel it for a bit, then it went on getting worse. I asked her why she hadn’t let me know, and she said it wasn’t my fault and why should she. I told her she’d got a claim against my insurance and I’d fix it for her. I put a solicitor on to it, and she got her compensation. I went to see her once or twice. She was grateful and very plucky. She and Doris were living together. I went into it all with Doris. I arranged to pay part of the rent. Maisie hadn’t any people, and she wanted to stay where she was. She said the girls came in and out, and she’d rather die than go into a hospital. So I fixed it up with Doris.”

Phyllida took another of those quick breaths. This time it carried a word.

“Elliot-”

He gave her a frowning look.

“You see, Miss Paradine was perfectly right when she told you I was paying Maisie’s rent. She was perfectly right in saying that I went to see her after we got back from our honeymoon. I did. What I should like to know is how she found out.”

Phyllida moistened her lips.

“Mrs. Cranston wrote and told her-about the accident. She wrote when she knew we were going to be married. The letter was delayed-it didn’t arrive until we had gone away.”

“Cranston? I remember-the woman at the house… Face like a horse-”

Phyllida nodded.

“She said she thought it was her duty. She’s like that. I used to put my tongue out behind her back when I was little, and feel dreadfully wicked about it afterwards in bed.”

Elliot went on frowning.

“Mrs. Cranston told her about the accident. Who told her I paid the rent, and went to see Maisie on Boxing Day? Did she hire a detective?”

The colour ran up to the roots of Phyllida’s hair. She bent her head and heard Elliot laugh.

“I thought so! Now, Phyl, stop blushing and listen! This is where you’ve got to have a look at things as they are. I’m afraid you’re not going to like it, but here it is. If Miss Paradine put a detective on to find out about Maisie he’d get her address from Mrs. Cranston-she was listening in all right whilst the policeman was taking our statements. Well, he couldn’t have found out about the rent and not have found out that Maisie was a cripple. If Miss Paradine hired him he’d have reported back to her. In plain words, Phyl, she knew she was telling you lies. She wanted to separate us, so she took a chance and hoped for the best. As it happened, nothing could have gone off better. You flattened out, and I played into her hands by banging out of the house. Then she watched for my letters and suppressed them, and topped it all up neatly by sending me a telegram to say you never wanted to see me again, or words to that effect. These things are quite easy to do if you mean to have your own way and don’t give a damn. She didn’t. She doesn’t. Miss Silver will tell you that she took my blue-prints, and she’s right-dead right. She’s got to have what she wants. She wants you. She’ll do anything to keep you, and to get rid of me.”

The shamed flush had died away. She was as pale as she could be. She said,

“Elliot-”

“Look here, Phyl-did she ever suggest a divorce?”

Phyllida shook her head.

“Then don’t you see that proves it? She knew damned well that there was no evidence. Besides she wouldn’t want you free. You might marry someone else, and she wanted you all to herself.”

“Elliot-please-”

“Isn’t it true? You know it’s true!”

She looked at him again.

“Yes-”

He took hold of her and pulled her up.

“Well then-what about it? We can’t both have you. She’s made it that way. She’s taken everything and twisted it-it can’t be put back again. You’re either my wife or her daughter. It’s not your fault or mine that you can’t be both. It’s something she’s done herself.”

“Elliot-”

He gave that short angry laugh.

“That’s not going to get us anywhere!” He let go of her and stepped back. “I could make you choose me. I know that, and you know it. But I’m not doing it-I’m not even touching you. You’ve got to choose for yourself. If you want time to think about it you can have all the time you want.”

“I don’t want any time-” The words were just a murmur.

“Well then, choose!”

There was a silence. When it had lasted quite a long time, Phyllida said,

“You sound so angry-”

“I am angry.”

Another silence. Then,

“Is Maisie very pretty?”

“No!” The word was jerked out impatiently.

Phyllida said,

“You look as if you hated me. Do you?”

“Probably.” His face twitched. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Stop being such a damned fool, Phyl!”

Miss Silver went briskly to the dining-room, where she found Lane laying the table for lunch. Her slight cough having attracted his attention, he straightened up and turned towards her.

“Do you require anything, madam?”

“Thank you, Lane, I should be glad if you would answer one or two questions. I think you are aware that Mr. Mark Paradine has asked me to enquire into the circumstances of his uncle’s death.”