Free Dead in the Water by Aline Templeton Page B

working out that way for Tansy.
     
    ‘Miss Lascelles! Homage!’ Barrie Craig, director of Playfair’s Patch , came into the drawing room and bent low over the actress’s hand.
    Absurd little man! He looked, Sylvia thought, like a tennis ball – very round, very bouncy and with a fuzz of razor-cut grey hair round his spreading bald patch. Still, she murmured, ‘Too kind,’ with a gracious inclination of the head.
    ‘Are you happy with the script, Miss Lascelles? Any problems, we can fix them.’
    ‘Oh, Sylvia, please! No, it seems perfectly straightforward. I’m sure we can make any adjustments necessary as we go along. And of course I’m always happy to take direction.’
    ‘Of course, of course – Sylvia,’ he gulped. He gestured round the room. ‘I’ve just been checking out the house – they told me it was perfect and it certainly is. That wonderful decayed splendour, the curtains frayed, the carpets threadbare, everything starting to fall apart, and you—’
    With a certain sardonic amusement, Sylvia saw him realize suddenly where that sentence was leading and collapse into crimson confusion.
    Marcus took pity on him. ‘It shows the money and prestige Sylvia’s character once had, and emphasizes the tragic disintegration of her life after her husband’s murder years before.’
    Barrie picked up the lifeline with the desperate enthusiasm of a drowning man. ‘And, of course, with lighting we can make it very creepy indeed when she realizes the murderer is now coming for her too, and here she is – helpless! Those French doors there – perfect!’
    Then he looked round. ‘And where’s the gorgeous Jaki? She’s staying here, isn’t she?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ Marcus said. ‘Still in bed, is my guess – hasn’t emerged yet. Great to be young – I’ve somehow lost the talent for sleeping in.’
    Sylvia saw the director give him a curious look. She was interested, too, in what this revealed about the Marcus–Jaki situation, but neither of them said anything. In their world you learned that happy coexistence depended on bland acceptance when it came to relationships.
    ‘I’ll get Mrs Boyter to bring some coffee. I’ve managed to lure her away from her usual clients to look after us this week,’ Marcus said, with some pride. ‘I hooked her with the promise of meeting Sylvia – she’s always been one of her biggest fans. Of course Sylvia was wonderful and Mrs B’s purring like a kitten – can’t do enough!’
    ‘Darling, I’d have done anything to avoid more of your suppers – I didn’t know it was possible to ruin a ready meal just by putting it in the oven! Barrie, you wouldn’t believe!’
    She turned to the director, her intimate smile inviting him to join in the teasing, and pink with pleasure, he laughed.
    ‘Shocking!’ he agreed, as Marcus, hurling, ‘Ungrateful woman!’ over his shoulder, left in search of coffee.
     
    In the kitchen he found not just Mrs Boyter, resplendent in a bright pink pinny purchased specially for the occasion, but Jaki at the kitchen table eating toast. She smiled at him a little uncertainly.
    ‘Morning, darling!’ Marcus said brightly, kissing her on the forehead. ‘How’s the headache?’
    She took her tone from him. ‘Oh, much better. I slept really well. It’s so quiet, and the light didn’t wake me so I didn’t stir until after half past ten.’
    ‘It’s very dark with the curtains drawn,’ he agreed. ‘Mrs B, Miss Lascelles would love some coffee. There will probably be five or six of us, if you could bring through a pot.’
    Mrs Boyter’s face positively shone. ‘Of course, Marcus. I’ve made some of my wee biscuits as well – she’ll like those.’
    ‘Thanks. I’m sure we all will.’ He turned to Jaki. ‘Are you finished? Or are you on a toast jag?’
    ‘I’ve been on a toast jag.’ She got up. ‘I’ve bribed Mrs Boyter not to tell anyone how many pieces I had.’ She grinned impishly at the older woman, who shook her