Free An April Shroud by Reginald Hill Page A

Dalziel, amazed.
    'Oh no.Dollars.'
    But even dollars, he thought. Fifteen thousand. For poetry.
    Uniff was grinning at him, openly amused.
    'Are we getting to you now, Mr Dalziel? That old silvery, tinkly sound?'
    'I'm a plain, poor man,' responded Dalziel. 'I know nowt about poetry, and I wouldn't recognize fifteen thousand dollars if it got into bed with me.'
    'Well, you may have the chance to see it,' said Bonnie. 'These people want to have a little award ceremony. Herrie's too old to go wandering across the Atlantic so he's told them that if they want to give him anything, they have to come here. It's a marvellous bit of cheek really, but, as he says, he didn't ask them to make the award.'
    'He also says he doubts he'll live long enough to enjoy the money,' said Uniff.
    'What's that mean?' said Bertie, staring across the table at the bearded man.
    'It means he's old, and he's sick, and what the hell is there down here you can spend fifteen grand on,' answered Uniff slowly and coldly.
    There was a pause of complete silence, even Dalziel stilling his champing jaws for a moment.
    'There's the restaurant,' said Louisa brightly.
    Uniff roared with laughter.
    'You know what your grandfather thinks of the restaurant, Lou,' said Bonnie reprovingly. 'We've been through all this before.'
    'Now that'd be the place out back,' said Dalziel. 'The one that's being done up.'
    'You've seen it?' said Bonnie, surprised.
    'Mr Dalziel gets around quite a lot,' said Uniff with a malicious inflection Dalziel found it hard to understand.
    'Your father-in-law took me in there this afternoon,' explained Dalziel. 'Looking for Papworth.'
    'Ah. And what did you think?'
    'It looked - ' he searched for a word which would combine admiration and reservation - 'all right.'
    Uniff and the young Fieldings laughed. Dalziel glared at them. They didn't know how lucky they were that he chose to pick his words carefully. Their amusement stung him to go on.
    'Me,' he said, 'I don't much care where I eat. If the food's good and there's lots of it, the surroundings don't matter.'
    He dug out a spoonful of sausages from under Bertie's questing hand.
    'You're missing the point, Mr Dalziel, baby,' said Uniff.
    'Oh aye?' grunted Dalziel.
    'The thing with this medieval banquet kick is the food doesn't matter. Serve up this - ' he held an impaled sausage - 'and call it King Henry's Banger and they'll shovel them down. What we're talking about is the cafeteria system with five-star prices. You dig?'
    'I know nowt about the catering trade,' said Dalziel heavily, 'but that sounds fraudulent to me.'
    'Hank's exaggerating as usual,' said Bonnie quickly. 'This is a simple business enterprise, Mr Dalziel. We've all got money in it. ‘Though whether we'll get anything out of it's a different matter,' said Louisa.
    Tillotson spoke for the first time, with a reproving look at Louisa.
    'I'm sure we'll all get a good return on our investment. The Hall's nearly finished and the kitchens are ready. With a bit of luck we could still open on time.'
    He looked defiantly round the table.
    Bertie shook his head.
    'You don't listen, Charley. You were at the meeting, weren't you? Confucius he say, no pay, no play.'
    'Everyone done? Right pass your plates,' said Bonnie firmly. 'Mr Dalziel, how do you feel about apple crumble and custard?'
    'Keen,' said Dalziel.
    'You look like a crispy edge man to me,' said Bonnie, piling a substantial portion on to his plate. 'That do you for now? Good. Now, no more shop till we've finished. Understood? Hank, how's your film coming on?'
    'Fine, man, fine. I showed Herrie some clips yesterday and he made a couple of suggestions.'
    'Painful, no doubt,' said Bertie.
    'No, no. Pertinent. Words are his scene. You should learn to give credit, Bertie boy. Bend a little.'
    'You're making a film, Mr Uniff?' said Dalziel.
    'That's right. Don't be surprised. I mean, do I look like a tycoon? I mean, do any of us look like tycoons? Bertie there, perhaps. Yeah, Bertie's