Read Online Days Without Number by Robert Goddard - Free Book Online Page B

made were not his father's fault, even though he had displayed such outspoken intolerance of them that it was tempting to lay them at his door. Michael Paleologus had been no-one's idea of a perfect
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    parent, treating his family much as he had his students, with a kind of baffled disbelief at their capacity to misunderstand how and what to think. The older he had become, the more Nick had grudgingly admired his refusal to compromise. He had died as he had lived - believing he knew best.
    'Nick?'
    'Yes. Sorry. A fall, you say?'
    'So it seems.'
    'He was unsteady on his feet. You were right.'
    'I know. But . . .'
    'What?'
    'Do you think we upset him yesterday, badgering him about selling up? Do you think that might have . . . led to this?'
    Nick recalled the expression on the old man's face as he had laid into them the previous afternoon. He had not been angry. He had not even been hurt. He had merely been as self-righteous as ever - and as he would probably want to be remembered. 'No, Irene. I don't think so for a moment.'
    Michael Paleologus's innate sense of timing had not deserted him in death. Nick had been absolutely certain he was returning that day to the known quantity of the life he led away and apart from his family. Instead, five hours after driving out of Plymouth, he was driving back into it. His father had posthumously decreed that he was not to escape so lightly.
    His destination was not the Old Ferry, nor yet Trennor, but 254 Citadel Road. Irene had phoned him when he was halfway back along the M5 to say that she had contacted Andrew, who was coming into Plymouth to assist with the 'arrangements', by which Nick took it she meant consulting an undertaker. It was more convenient for them all to meet afterwards at Anna's flat.
    They made a sorrowful gathering in the cramped basement lounge. Basil doled out tea, coffee and biscuits as soon as Nick arrived and Irene gave him a tearful hug.
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    'The police wanted a formal identification,' she said. 'Andrew and I went.'
    'Sod of a place, that mortuary,' put in Andrew, shaking his head. 'Dad lying there, looking as if he might sit up any minute and tell us not to be so stupid.'
    'He'll be transferred to the chapel of rest tomorrow,' Irene went on. 'After the postmortem.'
    'Postmortem? I thought you said he'd hit his head.'
    'So it seems. But they need to check, I suppose. There'll have to be an inquest.'
    'Did you . . . see the wound?'
    'No. It was at the back of his head, they said. We didn't ask to see it.'
    'Nor would you have,' murmured Andrew. 'Believe me.'
    'Have you talked about a date for the funeral?'
    'It'll probably be next Monday,' Irene replied. 'You can stay down until then, can't you?'
    'Of course.'
    'We've made an appointment to see Baskcomb tomorrow.'
    'Right.'
    'We'll need to think about hymns as well. And flowers. And announcements. And--' She broke off, sighing and sat down, pressing a hand to her forehead. 'I thought he'd live for years, I really did. Years and years.'
    'You won't have to do all the sorting out, Irene,' said Anna, putting her arm round her sister. 'It'll be a team effort.'
    'How's Pru?' asked Nick.
    'Pretty upset when I saw her,' Anna replied. 'Not exactly coherent. The police had fazed her with all their questions. They won't let us into Trennor, you know.'
    'What?'
    'Just routine,' answered Irene. 'It won't be for long.'
    Nick frowned down at his sister, puzzling over exactly what was being left unsaid. 'Routine?'
    'In case it was not an accident.' Basil's voice sliced softly through the silence left trailing by Nick's query. They are paid to think of such things.'
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    The ramifications of Basil's tartly accurate observation coursed through Nick's thoughts, much as they no doubt did through his brothers' and sisters'. But they were not discussed, nor even referred to, until later in the evening. Andrew had asked if anyone wanted to join him for a drink at the Yard Arm before he headed back to Carwether. Sensing there were