Read Online A Night of Errors by Michael Innes - Free Book Online Page B

try to say anything.’ And for several minutes Mrs Gollifer was silent. ‘But there is surely something to be done.’
    ‘Is it not a little late in the day? Or do you feel that the situation is happily covered by the adage Better Late than Never?’
    ‘I said that something must be done , Lucy. I realize that, for you, the chief shock is about Oliver.’
    ‘I love him.’
    ‘I know you loved him. I think we have all already understood that.’
    ‘It is not what I said. I love him. Now.’
    Mrs Gollifer’s expression flickered; there might have been read in it a mixture of perplexity, mortification and relief. ‘Then,’ she said, ‘you can hardly feel–’
    ‘Oh, dear me, yes. Do you remember the poem which says that each man kills the thing he loves? In certain circumstances it is likely to be true.’
    But now Mrs Gollifer was looking at the younger woman with dilated eyes. ‘Lucy,’ she cried, ‘was Oliver…all the time…encouraging you?’
    Lucy’s lips moved; she seemed to be seeking a precise form of words. ‘The phrase, I fear,’ she said, ‘is inadequate to the specific nature of what has occurred.’
    Mrs Gollifer seemed to take unnaturally long to elucidate this grotesque little speech. When she did so, however, she began to weep.
    ‘How does it go?’ And Lucy let the shreds of the last rose petal fall. ‘Some kill their love when they are young, and some when they are old; some strangle with the hands of Lust, some with the hands of Gold. Well, that’s very appropriate. My love has been strangled with the hands of Gold, exactly.’
    ‘We have had more than enough.’ Mrs Gollifer controlled her weeping and rose. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps, we shall be of a better mind. And now I am going. Don’t stir. I shall go up for my cloak and then find my car. Kate will understand.’ And Mrs Gollifer left the room.
    For a long time Lucy Dromio sat quite still, her hands limp on a table where lay the ruined rose. Then she got up and went to the window. The summer night had fallen. For minutes longer she stared into it, motionless and absorbed. She shivered. Very silently, she slipped into the garden and vanished.
     
    ‘Look here, what’s all this?’
    Sebastian Dromio strode into the drawing-room where his sister-in-law and Lucy were sitting. His entrance had rather the effect of the knocking on the gate in Macbeth . A spell painfully broke itself. Lucy picked up her patience cards and shuffled them. Lady Dromio looked about her for her embroidery.
    ‘But, Sebastian, what are you speaking of? And is half past eleven a companionable hour at which to join us?’
    ‘Companionable hour be damned. You don’t look companionable, either of you, if it comes to that. And there’s something uncanny about this house tonight. I don’t like it.’ As he spoke to his sister-in-law thus, Sebastian cast at Lucy a considering and almost fearful glance.
    ‘Old houses do sometimes get like that. Or any large building, for that matter. Lucy will tell you that I have been reading a most unusual novel about a big–’
    ‘Stuff and nonsense!’ Sebastian gave short shrift to this dive of Lady Dromio’s towards her old refuge. ‘Either of you been outside?’ he asked sharply.
    ‘We have both of us been outside at one time or another. The night is mild.’
    ‘No doubt.’ Sebastian took an irresolute pace about the room. ‘Look here, there’s something queer going on. And I knew there would be as soon as Oliver behaved in that deuced queer way this morning.’
    ‘As soon as what ?’ Lucy had sprung to her feet. ‘Uncle Sebastian, whatever are you saying?’
    ‘Good heavens!’ Sebastian swung round upon his sister-in-law. ‘Haven’t you told the girl?’ He crossed to the window and appeared to be listening uneasily. ‘Secrets all the time! And where’s Mary Gollifer?’
    ‘Sebastian,’ Lady Dromio explained, ‘says that he thought he saw Oliver in London this morning. I didn’t mention it. We – we