Caroline Graham - A Ghost in the Machine

Later that afternoon the Parnells called round to offer their condolences. Judith brought a large bunch of sweet peas and Ashley a bowl of glowing, nearly black cherries. They sat down in the kitchen, taking a cup of coffee. Ashley spoke first, awkward but with obvious sincerity.

“We were both very sorry to hear the news. He was an old friend, I believe.”

“Yes,” said Mallory. “A kind man. Very…decent.”

“Benny must be extremely distressed.”

“But she’ll have you, won’t she?” put in Judith quickly. “I mean—you won’t be going back straight away?”

“No. Not until the inquest is over.”

“When you do she must come over,” suggested Ashley. “For meals or just to spend time. She shouldn’t be on her own.”

Judith shifted uncomfortably in her seat and stared out of the window through which beams of sunlight poured.

“One of us will stay,” said Kate. She didn’t add that Benny hardly seemed to notice whether other people were present or not. “Apart from removal day, that is.”

“And when is that?” asked Ashley.

The conversation moved on. Mallory was grateful for Ashley’s lack of prurience. He had been braced for questions along the lines of: what actually happened ? How come it was you who found him? What did the police say? Was it anything to do with those machines?

Mallory had had the first of these quasi-concerned exchanges that morning while out buying some milk. A man he vaguely recognised from Carey’s funeral stopped him on his way back to Appleby House.

After the opener: “How awful for you what a shock my deepest sympathy I understand it was an accidental hanging one of those big ropes in his museum,” the man, eyes shining, put his hand on Mallory’s arm. “Talking things through can be a great help. I live at Mon Repos and was a close friend of your aunt, name of Lattice. Please feel you can come at any time. Day or night you’ll be most welcome.”

An unpleasant experience. All very well for Kate to say it was just human nature. There were certain aspects of human nature Mallory felt he could well do without, especially in his present state. He tuned back into the conversation.

“So I feel a bit embarrassed,” Ashley was saying, “introducing such news at a sad time but you’ve always been so kind…” He was speaking to everyone but looking mainly at Kate.

“It is a sad time,” repeated Judith firmly. “So I think we should be—”

“Sorry,” interrupted Mallory. “I missed that last bit.”

“They’ve found out what’s wrong with Ashley,” said Kate.

“That’s marvellous,” said Mallory. “At least, I hope.”

“It’s pericardial disease.”

“Pericarditis,” corrected Judith.

“They think it might be from when I was working in Africa—”

“Over ten years ago.”

“And the chances are it can be treated.”

“Oh – I’m so glad,” said Kate. “Let’s hope the waiting list—”

“We’re going private,” said Judith. “Seeing a Harley Street specialist the week after next.”

“Jumping the queue.” Ashley laughed.

“We are not jumping the queue. We’re joining a different, shorter queue. Thus leaving a space, incidentally, for a National Health patient.”

Kate filled an awkward pause by getting up from the table, saying, “I must find a vase for your flowers. They smell wonderful.”

While Kate was running water at the sink someone knocked loudly at the outside door. Ashley, being nearest, opened it, and with such an absent-minded, comfortable air Judith couldn’t help wondering if he’d done it more than once before. The postman stood fair and square, mail bags lapping at his ankles.

“Any empties?”

“’Fraid not,” said Kate. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“How many’s that so far?” asked Ashley.

Mallory started bringing them in. “Thirteen.”

“You must be overwhelmed,” said Judith. “And here we are holding you up—”

“Perhaps I could read some for you, Kate,” said Ashley.

Kate turned, scissors in one hand, a chopped-off bunch of sweet pea stems in the other. She was about to accept with gratitude when she noticed Judith squinting against the sun, her face a mask of malign intensity. She looked angry and jealous and afraid.

Kate said, “That’s kind of you, Ash. But, to be honest, most of them won’t be worth it.”

There were a few letters in the post as well. Some were for the Celandine Press but there were also a couple of bills. Mallory was just putting them under his coffee cup when Mrs. Crudge put her head round the door.

Judith hurried over to Ashley then and dragged him off, saying they had a million things to do. Mallory thought Ashley looked as if he had very little to do and would much rather have stayed behind. Through the open kitchen window Kate could hear them in the porch. Judith was saying, “Since when has she been calling you Ash?”

Mrs. Crudge came in a little further. “Just popped round to say I’m sorry about earlier, Mrs. Lawson. But I’ll be in ten sharp tomorrow as usual, all right?”

“Of course it is,” said Kate. “Stay and have some tea as you’re here.”

“That’s all right. I expect Ben’ll be making a pot.”

Kate was glad Benny had a visitor. Especially one who was an old friend. Perhaps she would feel able to talk to Doris. So far she had hardly spoken, either to Kate herself or to Mallory. Of course, these were very early days. Kate put the flowers on the table and went off to attack the bags. Mallory, expertly concealing his enthusiasm, trailed behind.

But they had no sooner turned the nearest one upside down than Mrs. Crudge came in carrying a large plastic carrier.

“That was quick,” said Mallory.

“How was she?” asked Kate, nearly adding, “and how are you?” for Mrs. Crudge appeared pale and quite disturbed.

“I don’t know what to say,” replied Mrs. Crudge, sitting on the sofa. “It’s not Benny—I know that much.”

Mallory said, “She’s had a severe shock.”

“She looked straight through me as if I wasn’t there. Just put this in my hand and started shouting: ‘Take them away! Take them away!’ Then I was outside again.”

“What’s in it?” asked Kate.

Doris turned the bag upside down and out fell Benny’s beautiful peacock-blue jacket and long skirt, underclothes, stockings and shoes. Also her wig with the curls like brass sausages. Even the watch and earrings she had been wearing the night before.

“What shall I do?” asked Mrs. Crudge. “Take them to a charity shop?”

“Not down here,” said Kate. She started putting the clothes back. The chances of Benny ever seeing anyone wearing them must be a million to one. Even so. “I’ll do it in London.”

Later, after Mrs. Crudge had had some tea after all and a bit of a cry, Kate and Mallory planned a desultory early dinner – the rest of Mallory’s pea soup and bread and cheese. Benny did not share the meal, explaining, when Kate rang through, that she had stuff in her fridge that might spoil if it wasn’t eaten up.

Kate had no way of knowing if this was true and suspected it wasn’t. However, there was not much she could do. The fact that Benny had refused to eat with them and done her own thing was so extraordinary in itself as to cause slight concern. But she plainly did not wish to talk to anyone and that wish must be respected.

As they were sitting down to eat the telephone rang. Mallory leaped to answer it and Kate saw his expression change from hope to disappointment. He said, “Yes, fine…That might not be possible…All right. Thanks for letting me know.” Then hung up.

“The inquest,” he explained. “Ten thirty, Friday. The coroner’s court. There’s a proper letter in the post. I won’t necessarily be called but I should be there.”