Free Hide My Eyes by Margery Allingham

for him until half past, and I’ve kept your two letters on the subject out of the file. You marked them personal and they were kept private. I’ve promised him the whole thing is confidential between himself and me, and if he does his part it will remain so. He’ll have had a good fright, which may prove salutary. And now, my dear, if you feel like it, we’ll settle that little matter of the residue of your estate.”
    He put his hand in an inside pocket and she nodded absently, her mind still on the earlier subject.
    “Gerry’s all right,” she repeated stoutly. “He only wants the right girl to love him and boss him. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. What he needs is someone young and affectionate and his own class and …” She became aware of Mr. Phillipson’s shrewd glance and stopped abruptly. “I’m not,” she protested guiltily, although he had not spoken. “I’m neither planning nor hoping anything. Honestly, it’s hardly gone through my mind.”
    “I’m very glad it hasn’t.” He was severe with her. “If this niece of Freddy’s is under twenty-one, and the only thing we know for certain about Jeremy Hawker is the present very unfortunate incident, then really I can hardly advise you to let them even meet.”
    “Not - not if I’m there?”
    “Oh Polly!” He was exasperated with her. “Don’t be absurd. You must know by this time you can’t look after everybody. If you take my advice you’ll strike this young blackguard quietly off your list.”
    “Don’t say that, Matt.” She looked positively frightened. “Truly don’t. I tell you I’m fond of him. I needn’t worry because you’ll always be about, won’t you? I’ll never do anything without you, dear. I do admit that when I first found out about this dreadful business I thought he needed a wife to keep him straight, and I thought of Freddy’s niece and I thought she must be twenty-four or five. But that turns out to have been the elder sister and she’s engaged anyhow. This child who has come along is far too young, but she’s sweet. I like her for her own sake. I’m not a fool, I shall look after her. You can trust me. Now give me the pen.”
    Fifteen minutes later as she was letting him out of the front door Annabelle came up the path. Mr. Phillipson looked down at her from the top of the porch steps and turned a blank face to his hostess.
    “Good heavens,” he said briefly.
    “I know,” she murmured. “I told you,” and went on, glowing down at the newcomer, “hullo darling, how are the shops?”
    “Absolutely whizz.” The schoolgirl suddenly emerging from behind the sophisticated young lovely took Mr. Phillipson unaware. He found her enchanting, and although quite conscious that Polly was laughing at him for it he still displayed a fine flourish of old-fashioned gallantry as the introductions were performed.
    Just before he left them he turned to his old friend.
    “This young lady’s a very great responsibility.”
    Polly met his eyes. “My goodness, yes.”
    Annabelle laughed at them both. “I’m fairly safe out” she murmured, reddening.
    “Of course you are. He doesn’t mean that.” Polly flew to the rescue. “He’s just telling me to look after you as he looks after me, like a hen. Who gave a taxi-driver ten bob to take me home when I was waiting in the rain, eh Matt? Go along with you, you old sinner, looking so innocent.”
    Mr. Phillipson had not the face for innocence but he did appear astonished.
    “Not I,” he said earnestly.
    “Oh, rubbish, don’t lie to me. The taxi-man told me an old friend. In fact what he really said was ‘Op in, Ma. The bloke is on the corner watching to see I don’t scarper with the lolly. If I don’t take you he’ll give me in charge.’ I looked back but I couldn’t see you so I got in very gratefully and came home.”
    Mr. Phillipson continued mystified. “You’ve accused me of this before and I’ve told you I’m not guilty. It’s a