Free Slaying is Such Sweet Sorrow by Patricia Harwin Page B

that’s going on.”
    “Either that, or drive me round the bend,” she answered, a little irritably. “But thanks, Dad. It does seem to be a hit.”
    “I wish you’d tell me something I can do to help too,” I said. “Maybe cook dinner? Or run some errands for you?”
    “I can’t eat,” she answered shortly. “Rose will look after Archie’s meals. I can’t think of anything just now, Mom. Dad and I have an appointment in about an hour with this solicitor he found who’s supposed to be really good. Maybe he’ll represent Peter.” She was twisting a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, tighter and tighter, as she used to do at tense moments when she was a child.
    “I could go too,” I said and was annoyed to catch a glance exchanged between her and Quin. “I will not get excited, or insult the man, or—any of the other things you’re thinking. I might even come up with some questions that wouldn’t occur to you.”
    “I’d be willing to bet you would,” Quin said. He laughed, and Emily even smiled a little. “I think I know what to ask another lawyer, Kit, even over here. It’s going to go better if Emily and I handle it.”
    That familiar condescending tone was more than I could take.
    “Listen, mister,” I burst out, “I had thirty years of that superior attitude, the same amount of time you had of my jumping to conclusions, and I thank God I don’t have to put up with it anymore! Save it for Big-eyes there.”
    That actually got a rise out of her. “Are you going to let her go on calling me names?” she demanded of Quin in a voice that was still quiet and steady, but a few octaves higher than I remembered. “I told you I didn’t want to come to England. You said we’d all be friends, but she won’t let us be, and I knew she wouldn’t.”
    “So why did you bring her?” I joined in. “Just to rub our noses in it? Just to humiliate me and make life a little harder for Emily and Peter?”
    “Mother, don’t say another word!” Emily cried out. “You promised me only minutes ago you wouldn’t do this!”
    Archie ran over and threw his arms around my legs again. “Shup, Mummy!” he piped at Emily.
    She stared at him, and then, as if the last straw had been laid on her back, she gave way and burst out crying. Quin got up and enfolded her in his arms, and Janet went into the powder room and slammed the door.
    Archie looked on in amazement at the effect his newly acquired word had created, and I whispered to him, “You see, matey, that word’s bad news, just like we told you. You’d better go give Mummy a kiss and tell her you’re sorry.”
    He trotted over and did his leg-hug, and she picked him up. He patted her wet cheeks, saying unhappily, “No, no!”
    “Don’t worry, darling. Remember what I told you? It’s okay to cry.”
    Archie shook his head, not buying the psychological jargon, while she tried to pull herself together. In the background the tape player shrilled, “Bobby Shafto’s gone to sea, Silver buckles on his knee—”
    “I’m sorry, Mom—” Emily started to say, but I interrupted.
    “No, you’re quite right, I just can’t be in the same room with those two peacefully and I won’t try it again. I’ll check every time to be sure they aren’t here.” I heard Quin give a big, exasperated sigh, but I didn’t rise to the bait. “You interview your lawyer, and I’ll go down and talk to Peter. I haven’t heard his side of it yet, and if nothing else, he’d probably like to see a friendly face.”
    “Tell him I love him,” I heard her say as I opened the door, and I knew she was still crying because I heard Archie scold, in a scared little voice, “No, no—bad Mummy!”

    “How is Emily?” were the first words Peter said to me when we faced each other on either side of a plastic mesh barrier. He looked as haggard as I’d expected. I’d had to wait until noon for visiting hours, so I’d had a long walk, and when I returned they told me a