Free Not to Disturb by Muriel Spark Page B

milk,’ says Heloise.
    â€˜Mine too,’ says Lister. ‘But he’s the heir.’
    â€˜There’s the young brother Rudolph in Brazil,’ says Mr
Samuel. ‘He was always thought to be the heir. All that money.’
    â€˜The one in Brazil is younger than him in the attic,’
Eleanor says. ‘Him in the attic is next in line. He inherits. Sister Barton knew
what she was doing when she sent for the Reverend tonight and offered to marry
her patient out of pity.’
    The Reverend has opened his eyes on hearing himself
referred to. He has sat up, rather refreshed after his nap.
    â€˜My poor boy in the attic,’ he says. ‘Sister Barton is a
fine woman. I think it should be done.’
    â€˜He in the attic has prior responsibilities,’ says
Lister. ‘Does anyone know his Christian name?’
    â€˜I never heard it mentioned,’ says Heloise.
    â€˜Sister Barton calls him Tony,’ says the Reverend.
    â€˜His name,’ says Lister, ‘is Gustav Anthony Klopstock.
It’s on his birth certificate, his medical certificate exempting him from army
service, and it’s in their father’s will.’
    â€˜The Registers?’ says the Reverend.
    â€˜He’s also mentioned in a social register for 1949.
That’s the latest we have in the house. It occurred to me he must have died, but
I was wrong. I admit we were in error,’ Lister says. ‘But fortunately we left
room for error, and having discovered it in time, here we are. There is a vast
difference between events that arise from and those that merely follow after
each other. Those that arise are preferable. And Clovis amends his script.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t have married him for choice,’ says Heloise.
‘He doesn’t cognate.’
    â€˜You don’t have to cognate with him,’ says Hadrian. ‘You
only need get your marriage-lines in black and white.’
    â€˜Reverend,’ says Lister, ‘do you recall that night last
June when the Klopstocks were away and him in the attic got loose? Remember we
called you in to catch him and calm him down?’
    â€˜Poor boy, I remember, of course,’ says the Reverend. ‘He
didn’t know what he was doing.’
    â€˜He’s not officially certified,’ says Eleanor. ‘The Baron
and Baroness wouldn’t hear of it.’
    â€˜That’s true,’ Lister says. ‘And I wish to draw the
Reverend’s attention to the result of that rampage last June.’ Lister indicates
Heloise who smiles at her stomach.
    â€˜Good gracious me!’ says the Reverend. ‘I wouldn’t have
thought he had it in him.’
    â€˜We must lose no time,’ says Lister getting up. ‘Prepare
the drawing-room, Eleanor. It’s past five o’clock. I’ll go and give orders to
Sister Barton.’
    â€˜I would need a few days,’ says the Reverend firmly. ‘You
can’t marry people like this.’
    â€˜It’s a special case, Reverend. You can’t refuse. In
fact, you may not refuse. Look at poor Heloise, her condition.’
    The central posy of violets is missing from the funeral
wreath which lies under the shower in the scullery bathroom being gently
sprinkled to keep it fresh. Heloise in her bedroom holds the posy in her hands.
Pablo stands by admiringly. ‘I’ve unpacked all my things again,’ he says.
    â€˜What a business,’ she says. ‘Nobody needed to pack their
things, after all. All those trunks and suitcases.’
    Hadrian appears at the door of her room holding the white
mink coat lately left in the cloak-room by Victor Passerat. ‘Just right for the
occasion,’ she says, putting it on.
    â€˜Lister says it has to go back in the cloak-room
immediately after the ceremony,’ Hadrian says. ‘The police will want to know
what coat he was wearing. Lister is keen that the police should see this coat.
It speaks volumes,