Reginald Hill - The Long Kill

‘Has your niece gone?’ he asked casually.

‘No, she’s out in the garden.’

‘You mentioned a boy, Jimmy. Are there any other children?’

‘You’ve got sharp ears and a long nose, young man,’ said Miss Wilson reprovingly.

‘If I’m going to become an inhabitant, I need to adapt to local customs,’ smiled Jaysmith.

His impudence paid off.

‘No, just the one,’ said the old lady abruptly. ‘They’d been married barely seven years when Edward died. It was just before Christmas last year.’

Nine months and still grieving. Grief could last forever unless life wrenched you out of its course. And even then you could not be certain if you were really living or just escaping.

‘You look around upstairs by yourself,’ instructed Miss Wilson. ‘I don’t bother with the stairs unless I have to.’

He spotted the younger woman from the window of the room with the mountaineering pictures. She was reclining in a deck chair at the bottom of the garden with her feet up on an ornamental wall, her eyes closed against the slanting sun. He stood for a while, watching, till she shifted slightly. Suddenly fearful she might glance up and see him at this particular window, he turned away and went downstairs.

‘Well?’ said Miss Wilson. ‘What do you reckon?’

‘We haven’t talked about a price,’ delayed Jaysmith.

‘I thought you said you’d leave that to me,’ she replied, her lips crinkling. ‘Well here’s what the agent reckoned he’d advertise it for if I put it with him, which I’m going to do tomorrow if it’s not sold today.’

She mentioned a figure. It was hefty, but, from the little bit of expertise Jaysmith had had to gather to keep up his end in conversations with Phil Parker, it seemed reasonable.

Miss Wilson added, ‘But for the pleasure of not paying an agent’s fee and not having hordes of strangers and more than a few nosey local devils tramping around the place, I’d knock a thousand off that, Mr Hutton.’

He scratched his chin and whistled softly.

‘That’s very generous of you,’ he said. ‘Very generous.’

He hoped that Annie Wilson would materialize at some point to show a protective interest in her aunt. But he saw now that the old lady would not take kindly to being protected and that the niece would remain determinedly absent till negotiations were concluded.

And if the conclusion were no sale, he would be politely shown the door and his chance would have been missed.

His chance for what? He wasn’t quite sure, but Parker’s words rang in his ears … there is a tide in the affairs of men …

He said, ‘On the other hand, I rather feel that for a cash sale, no property chain to worry about, no pressure to complete, or delay when you are ready either, all this guaranteed, you might come down a little lower.’

‘How much lower did you have in mind, Mr Hutton?’

‘Oh, another couple of thousand, I’d have thought.’

She looked outraged but he also saw behind the outrage what he had already guessed at – the haggler’s spirit burning bright.

They went at it hard for another fifteen minutes.

‘I’ll need to go out and talk to Annie,’ she said at one point.

She was gone a couple of minutes only. Shortly after she returned they settled for a reduction of the agent’s price by fifteen hundred pounds.

She offered her hand. He took it. Her grip was firm and warm.

‘That’s settled then. You’ll have a drink. Come into the garden.’

He followed her out. Another deck chair had appeared alongside Annie’s.

‘It’ll be whisky to seal a bargain,’ said Miss Wilson, returning to the house. ‘Sit down.’

She went back inside. Annie opened her eyes.

‘You’ve bought it then,’ she said neutrally.

‘It is irresistible,’ he said.

‘Did you knock her down?’

‘Only as far as she had decided to go. Probably not as far as that,’ he said ruefully. ‘I think she was very gentle with me. If she’d really tried her hardest, I suspect I’d have been raising her price. She’s rather formidable, isn’t she?’

He had struck the right note. She smiled at him now and nodded.

‘When she came out to see you just now, what did she say?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘She just came out, got that deck chair you’re sitting on from the shed and set it up, then she went back inside. Why?’

‘She told me she was coming to consult with you,’ he said.

Slowly she began to laugh and he laughed with her. It felt like a long time since there had been such a moment of shared pleasure in his life.

‘You two sound very jolly, I must say,’ said Miss Wilson, returning with a tray on which stood a decanter and three glasses.

Jaysmith struggled to his feet to offer her the deck chair but she said, ‘No, I find them things too awkward for me nowadays. I’ll sit on the wall here if you’ll shift your feet.’

Obediently Annie removed her feet from the ornamental wall and her aunt sat down.

‘Take your jacket off, man, and enjoy the sun,’ exhorted the old lady.

Obedient in his turn, Jaysmith removed his jacket. As he draped it over the back of the deck chair, the Wainwright guide fell out of his pocket. Quickly he picked it up and replaced it, wondering if Annie Wilson’s expression of amusement only existed in his mind.

He stayed for half an hour, deftly fielding questions about his background. At the end of this time the younger woman said, ‘I really must be off now, Aunt Muriel. I promised I’d pick Jimmy up from school.’

‘You’ll spoil him.’

‘First day back. After this, it’s the bus and a nice healthy walk. I’ll bring him round this weekend.’

‘Make sure you do.’

Jaysmith rose too.

‘You can get in touch with me at the hotel when your solicitor’s ready,’ he told Miss Wilson.

‘You’re staying on then?’

‘A few more days.’

He was wondering how to keep contact with Annie Wilson when she said, ‘Like a lift down into the village, Mr Hutton? I can’t see your car.’

‘No. I walked up this afternoon.’

‘Spoken like a real enthusiast. Of course, if you want to walk back …’

‘No. Uphill was enough. Downhill’s often much harder.’

‘There speaks an expert.’

He folded himself into the tiny car, leaving the two women to take their farewells. A moment of panic hit him as he waited.

What am I doing? he asked himself. I’ve promised to buy a house just so that I can talk a little longer with a woman I’ve only just met who may turn out to be dull as ditchwater, or reckon that I’m even duller!

But the panic vanished like morning mist when she climbed into the driver’s seat.

They hardly spoke on the short descent into Grasmere. She dropped him at his hotel. To invite her in for tea or a drink was manifestly absurd when he knew she was going to pick up her son.

He held the car door open and said, ‘Thank you.’

‘A pleasure,’ she said, putting the car into gear.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’d like to see you again.’

‘If you’re coming to live up here, I daresay we’ll bump into each other,’ she said with a smile.

‘No. I mean sooner. What about tomorrow? Lunch, say.’

She stopped smiling and studied him closely.

‘I don’t often eat lunch,’ she said. ‘Except when I go to auntie’s. Otherwise I just grab a snack.’

‘Me too,’ he said. ‘So why don’t we eat our snacks together?’

She thought for a moment then nodded gravely.

‘All right. Why not? Half past twelve suit you?’

‘Fine. But where? What’s the best place round here? You’re the local. You name it.’

‘Best place?’ she echoed, letting in the clutch and beginning to move gently away. ‘Well, one of my favourites is the Lion and the Lamb. Let’s meet there, shall we? Twelve-thirty prompt. ‘Bye!’