Free At Death's Door by Robert Barnard Page B

had presented a fascinating spectacle for Becky for a time. But Myra had taken no notice of her since the first moments. Becky needed some reciprocation, some sympathetic response. Now she was becoming bored, making the little noises that she sometimes made when she was working up to a tantrum.
    â€œOh, dear, must you go?” asked Myra with no great regret in her voice. “It’s been so interesting, talking over old times, renewing old friendships.” There was never any friendship, thought Roderick. Myra looked at her watch. “Well, even if the children are back, there’s not much point in sending them down here now. Far better not to enter into delicate matters when one is tired, don’t you agree? Best they come to lunch or dinner tomorrow. Tell Cordelia to phone me. We can have a pleasant meal à quatre. Talking about any and everything except that damned book. Then Cordelia and I can get down to the nitty-gritty. Though perhaps, Granville, you ought to be present. You do provide a stabilizing influence.”
    Granville looked apprehensive.
    â€œNo, thanks. ”
    â€œDarling, it’s worth a try. And in a sense you are a sort of outsider. Remember, Cordelia has hardly met you, and certainly not since you became my husband.”
    Roderick paused in the business of collecting things together.
    â€œOh—I’m awfully sorry, Myra. I didn’t realize you two were married.”
    â€œIt was in the Times. ”
    â€œI’m afraid I skip over the social pages rather rapidly. Many congratulations, anyway.”
    Myra smiled graciously, Granville Ashe awkwardly.
    â€œYes,” said Myra, “we’ve been married almost three weeks. It’s good to have a husband again, to look after my interests.”
    But few people could doubt that Myra Mason could look after her own. As she saw them to the door, the very tables seemed to shift out of her way, acknowledging the concentrated force of her personality.

Chapter 7
    I T WAS VERY LATE when Pat and Cordelia arrived back at the Rectory. Roderick saw them in the driveway, getting out of their ancient Volkswagen, as he went up to bed. Cordelia had a large canvas bag with her and was looking very pleased with herself. Pat looked less happy.
    Roderick went down the lawn to give them Myra’s message as they sat eating breakfast (ham and large chunks of bread). Cordelia said: “Thanks.”
    â€œYou will ring her, won’t you?”
    She shrugged. “I suppose so. Yes, I’ll ring her sometime during the day.”
    Roderick lingered awkwardly. “We didn’t realize your mother had married again.”
    Cordelia was unfazed. “Oh, has she? Who is it?”
    â€œA man called Granville Ashe.”
    â€œHmm. I think I’ve met him. Can’t quite remember. It’s a bad sign when she marries them. The marriages always break up quicker than the affairs.”
    â€œHe seemed a pleasant enough chap. I think he is hoping to act as a peacemaker.”
    Cordelia smiled secretively. “He is unlikely to be successful.”
    Roderick was forced to leave it at that.
    The Cotterels’ day was dominated by the arrival of Isobel. As soon as she reached the Red Lion in Maudsley, she phoned for Roderick to come and fetch her. Caroline greeted her on the front porch half an hour later. She was wearing a Zandra Rhodes outfit that Caroline thought would have looked well on a younger woman. It was flouncy, garish, and it contrasted oddly with Isobel’s air of perennial discontent. It also, incidentally, gave the lie to her moans about never being allowed to buy new clothes. This was from this spring’s collection.
    Isobel’s behavior when she arrived at the Rectory was pretty much unvarying. She marched into the sitting room, cast a proprietary glance around it, sat herself on the sofa, made another more leisurely proprietary survey, then took out her cigarette holder and lit a