Free The Gazebo by Patricia Wentworth Page A

me quite a lot of money. We can buy your mother a companion and be able to live very comfortably on what is left. We shall in fact be affluent, because every thing has been piling up whilst I was away.’
    Just for a moment it all seemed possible. She and Nicky would have their own house. She would have her own life. There would be children. Her mother would be reasonable – she might even go on a cruise with the companion. The prison doors were opening – Nicky was opening them, and she could walk out. And then she woke up and knew that it was a dream. People don’t suddenly turn reasonable and unselfish. She had given way for too long to make a stand now. She said in an exhausted voice,
    ‘She won’t ever let me go.’
    His grasp tightened until it hurt. He said in a vicious undertone,
    ‘She isn’t going to be asked. Five years ago I was a boy and a fool. This time it’s going to be different. She can like it, or she can lump it. If she wants to destroy herself she can. I’m going to get you away if I’ve got to smash her and everything else in sight.’
    He had his back to the door, but Althea was facing it. She saw it opening and she pulled on her hands to get them away, but she was too late. The door swung in and Myra Hutchinson stood there. She was more like a poster than ever – bronze hair, scarlet lipstick, and a dress with a halter-neck in a surprising shade of green. She had been laughing, but the laugh had stopped half way. It had stopped because of what she had just heard Nicholas say. She said ‘Oh!’ and he looked over his shoulder and grinned at her.
    ‘See you later, darling. We’re having a private conversation.’
    She did finish her laugh then, but it wasn’t quite as carefree as usual. She said, ‘So I see,’ and stepped back and shut the door again.
    Nicholas laughed too. He hadn’t let go of Althea. He laughed and he got up, pulling her with him.
    ‘And now I’m going to kiss you,’ he said.
    NINE
    MISS MAUD SILVER did not as a rule accept invitations to cocktail-parties, a modern innovation which in her opinion compared unfavourably with the now practically extinct tea-party or At Home. In pre-war days one sat at one’s ease and conversed with one’s friends. At a cocktail-party you were very lucky indeed if you got a chair, and it was quite impossible to converse, the competition in voices being such as to produce a roar resembling that of a cataract or the passing of a procession of tanks. Yet she had come down by tube to Grove Hill in order to attend one of these disagreeable functions. She would not have done it for just anyone, but Mrs Justice was an old friend and her daughter had once had reason to be grateful for Miss Silver’s professional help. She was now comfortably and happily married in Barbados, and had been more than kind to Miss Silver’s niece by marriage, Dorothy Silver. There had been an emergency – Dorothy’s husband away, Dorothy taken suddenly ill – and nothing could have exceeded Sophy Harding’s kindness. It was now four years ago, but grateful recollection induced Miss Silver to take her way to Grove Hill. As was her wont, she dwelt upon the brighter side of the excursion. It would be pleasant to see Louisa Justice. They had not met for some little time, and she would be able to hear all about the latest addition to Sophy’s family, the twins. There was something very attractive about twins.
    Arriving a little early, she had a very pleasant talk with Louisa Justice before the room filled up. Presently she found herself on a sofa pushed well back into the deep bay-window – quite an agreeable position as not only was the noise considers ably mitigated but it afforded a comfortable corner seat and gave her an excellent view of the room. She had an unflagging interest in people. Detective Inspector Frank Abbott of Scotland Yard was in the habit of remarking that as far as she was concerned the human race was glass-fronted. She looked not so much