Read Online John Brown's Body by A. L. Barker - Free Book Online

never be room for two Emmelines. Not in the same family nor, thought Ralph, in the same cognisance. It was not likely that he would ever know another Emmeline: if he were obliged to, within the same lifespan, he would be crowded out of himself.
    The late Colonel Openshaw had been too late for Ralph, Emmeline was already a widow when he met Bertha. By Emmeline’s account – Bertha said little more than that he was kind – the Colonel was out of Ralph’s class. He had to be, to take Emmeline. She was a challenge which Ralph had never accepted, in fact they all lived together at Thorne on the understanding that he did not.
    “Ralph has something on his mind,” she said as they sat at supper. She was finishing the last of three gins with which she had prefaced the meal. Beside her plate was a lighted cigarette.
    “We shouldn’t expect him to slip into our life at a moment’s notice,” said Bertha. “It’s a far cry from his.”
    At week-ends they often discussed him in his presence as they did out of it for the rest of the week.
    “If he feels disjointed it could be the beginning of the endof something,” said Emmeline. “Personally I’ll be glad if it’s the end of his commuting.”
    “He knows how we feel about that.” Bertha put the plate of bread at Ralph’s elbow. “The soft pieces are towards you, dear.”
    “I have nothing on my mind,” said Ralph, “except the joy of being with you both.”
    “His mind is putting out some interesting rays, mostly emotional, though there’s a hard streak too. Our darling’s twisted his envelope out of shape.”
    “Don’t tease,” pleaded Bertha. “He must be so tired after his journey.”
    “I hardly noticed the journey.”
    “No, that’s not a suffering streak,” said Emmeline, “it’s too solid. And I’m not sure about the joy, he has such soft pink joy, has Ralph.”
    He smiled. “I think the boot’s on the other foot. You have something on your mind, Emmy.”
    She dropped her knife and fork and picked up the cigarette.
    “Isn’t the beef to your liking?” Bertha asked anxiously.
    Emmeline turned to Ralph. “Do you know of a good water-diviner?”
    “What?”
    “Divining’s in your line of country – weed-killers and pest control – surely there’s a file on Dowsers in your office?”
    “No.”
    “Don’t you look for the springs of life as well as the springs of death?”
    “What do you want a water-diviner for?”
    “Darling, to divine water.”
    “It’s no joke,” Bertha warned in a stage whisper to Ralph and sounded sorry that it wasn’t.
    “Hurry up and finish eating and let’s get away from the table.”
    Emmeline was not interested in food. She regarded it as fuel and to her a meal was a stoking operation: Ralph, eatingBertha’s excellent Yorkshire pudding amid Emmeline’s fuss and fume, wondered not for the first time if the sisters complemented each other to the extent of each offsetting the other’s qualities with her own defects.
    “I want a diviner for this room,” said Emmeline. “And for the room above it, my bedroom. Bertha and I find the atmosphere oppressive in them both. There’s a sense of effort. Don’t you feel it? But you wouldn’t, you’re not here all the time.”
    “What effort?” Ralph smiled. “In your bedroom?”
    “If there’s a stream immediately under this room we shall know why it’s twice as much effort to lift a finger in here as it is anywhere else in the house.”
    Ralph looked at Bertha. She sighed ambiguously and he chose a slice of bread from which the crusts had been trimmed.
    “I have no difficulty lifting my fingers.”
    “You wouldn’t, over a week-end. It’s a cumulative effect.”
    “Of what?”
    “If there’s a stream under the house we’re being bombarded with ionising rays. I feel a tug,” said Emmeline, “when I do the smallest thing I feel a tug the other way.”
    “Dusting this room makes me hot,” said Bertha.
    “Water is a conductor. Living over it