Read Online Mrs. Malory and Any Man's Death by HAZEL HOLT - Free Book Online

better just go in to see if things are all right—no fires left on and so forth. And”—she lowered her voice—“see if there’s any clearing up to do, if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t like her to come back from hospital to anything like that.”
    “What a good idea,” Rachel said. “Shall I come and give you a hand?”
    “Oh, that would be marvelous,” Judith said gratefully, “if you don’t mind.”
    They went into the house and Jim Fletcher said, “Well, I suppose I’d better be getting along. Mary sent me up to the shop to get some bread—she’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.”
    “I suppose I might as well go and get a few things from the shop as well,” I said. “I really came to see Annie about the Book—some old letters. I don’t know what will happen about it now.”
    “Well, of course you’ll go on with it,” Captain Prosser said briskly. “Annie will want to know how it’s going when she gets back. I think I’ll come with you. Maurice won’t know what’s happening.”
    Indeed, the exciting presence of an ambulance in the village had drawn a few people into the shop, the usual center of news and information. I remained silent while Jim and Captain Prosser (antiphonally) told their story, embellished with their feelings and reactions and prognostications as to the outcome.
    “One of these superbugs, do you think?” Maurice asked. “There’s a lot of them about.”
    “Or food poisoning,” Jim suggested.
    “That’s not very likely,” Margaret said, quick to defend the purity of the food on sale in the shop. “Nobody else in the village has gone down with anything like that.”
    “But,” Jim persisted, “you know what Annie’s like. She uses up every scrap of everything—stuff she’s cooked days before. Mary went in there once and found her hotting up some meat left over from a joint that must have been a good week old! It’s a miracle to me something like this hasn’t happened before.”
    We all nodded wisely. Annie’s frugality (“I can’t abide waste. ‘Waste not, want not.’ That’s what my mother used to say.”) was a byword in the village as well as her contempt for those who ate ready meals or never used up leftovers.
    “She cooks in batches,” Jim went on. “She says it saves electricity—which it does, of course, but there are limits.”
    “And now,” Margaret said, “since she was given that microwave, she just hots things up all the time. That’s not healthy, surely!”
    “There’s nothing like good fresh home-cooked food,” Captain Prosser (who considered himself something of an expert cook) said firmly.
    We were all silent for a moment to consider the truth of this statement.
    “Oh well,” I said tritely, “she’s in the best place now.”
    Enid Stevens, who, with her husband, Norman, runs the hotel and who’s had some lively run-ins with Annie over the years, gave a little laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be one of the nurses looking after her,” she said. “She’ll drive them mad, telling them how much better things were done in her day!”
    “She certainly won’t be an easy patient,” Margaret said. “That’s for sure.”
    As I came out of the shop, I saw Rachel.
    “How was everything?” I asked.
    “Things were in a bit of a mess, so we’ve sorted that and locked up properly. Judith has the keys. Oh, and she packed up some nightgowns and toilet things—Phyll and I will take them into the hospital tomorrow and see how she is.”
    “Has Annie got any relatives?” I asked. “She never spoke about anyone.”
    “Not that I know of. I believe there were no other members of the family, apart from Annie, at the funeral when her mother died.”
    “How sad.”
    “I suppose so,” Rachel said, “but I’ve never thought of Annie as sad exactly! She drives us all mad most of the time, but, really, she’s the heart of the village.”
    “That’s true,” I said. “Anyway, how was Grace? I can’t believe she’s