Free Play to the End by Robert Goddard Page A

tried to pressurize Roger into reconsidering .. . by harassing you. The fact that he's a fan of mine ... is purely coincidental."

    Jenny looked relieved to hear this explanation. She even smiled. "I see. So, Roger pretended not to recognize Oswin in order not to worry me. While I didn't mention Oswin in order not to worry him."

    "Probably," I grudgingly agreed.

    "Why have you got the manuscript?"

    "It's part of the deal I struck with Oswin. I'll have Moira give it the once over. In return, he'll lay off you."

    "But surely it's unpublishable."

    "For certain, I should think. But he'll be content as long as it's given serious consideration. I reckon that was Roger's mistake.
    Refusing even to look at it."

    "More likely he knows Oswin of old as a waste of space."

    We exchanged an eloquent glance. Jenny's sympathy for the flotsam and jetsam of society used sometimes to annoy me. None of it was on show now, though. Was this new hardness, I wondered, one of the consequences of her relationship with Roger Colborn, the plastic man turned arbitrageur and landed gent?

    "Will Oswin honour your .. . deal ... if Moira turns the book down?"

    "He says so."

    "And you believe him?"

    "Yes. He knows there's nothing more he can do."

    Jenny looked less than wholly convinced. "Well, at the very least, I suppose it'll be a breathing space. And I'm grateful for that. How did you manage to accomplish this so quickly?"

    "I missed this evening's performance."

    "You did whatT

    "It was the only time Oswin was willing to see me."

    "Why on earth did you allow someone like that to '

    The telephone was ringing. I stared at it and so did Jenny. I think we were both certain who was on the other end. Jenny leaned across the arm of her chair and plucked the receiver out of its cradle.

    "Hello?" She smiled. "Hello, darling ... Yes ... Yes, very quiet."
    She was on the move now, slipping out through a communicating door into an adjoining room. The door closed behind her and her voice receded to a muffled murmur. Chester opened an eye, registered her absence and sank back into a torpor.

    I cast a jaundiced glance round the room, wondering if I'd recognize any of the items she kept when we separated. But there was nothing, not a single familiar object, only more of the same impeccably composed contents of an idyllic country-house life. "Is this really what you want?" I muttered, refraining from supplying the obvious answer.

    Then I spotted a framed photograph on top of the cherry-wood hi-fi cabinet. I rose and went across for a gander. There was Jenny, carefree and happy, grinning at the camera as she wrapped an arm round the new man in her life. Her companion had to be Roger Colborn. They were leaning together by the tiller of a yacht, a triangle of sail visible above them, a sparkling chunk of sea behind. Colborn looked lean, muscular and nauseatingly handsome, with thick dark hair greying at the temples, blue eyes, a firm jaw and assorted indicators of rugged machismo. To make matters worse, he and Jenny appeared to be very much in love. I sighed and turned away, only to confront a reflection of myself in the mirror above the mantelpiece. Hair thinner and greyer than Colborn's, waistline looser, musculature less evident, I could do no more than shrug.

    The door clicked open and Jenny stepped back into the room. "Sorry about that," she said. "Roger always calls around now when he's away."

    "Thoughtful of him."

    "Look, Toby '

    "At a guess' - I tilted the photograph towards her "I'd say he's about my age."

    "Yes." Jenny compressed her lips. "He is."

    "But wearing better."

    "I don't want to play this game, Toby. I'm grateful for what you've done about Derek Oswin. But '

    "Mention him to Roger, did you?"

    "No. Of course not."

    "I should, if I were you. Secrets at this stage of a relationship ...
    can prove tricky."

    "I probably will discuss it with him when he gets back." I sensed she wanted to tell me to mind my own business. But the