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Authors: Ruth Rendell
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surroundings.
‘Lovely house, isn’t it?’
‘Very nice, yes.’ It was the same vintage as his own, one of a number of houses, detached, four-bedroomed, which had been built soon after the Second World War. ‘Mrs Kilmartin, I have to tell you I have read the letter you wrote to Ms Hussain last July.’
‘She kept it then?’
‘As a bookmark in the book she was reading at the time of her death. I think that shows it meant a lot to her.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Did she reply?’
‘To my letter? Oh, yes, she did. We lived rather too far apart to drop in on each other. I invited her to come and stay in the summer holidays but she said it would be too hard for her to get a locum – or whatever they call them in the Church. She invited me but my husband wasn’t keen. He has an idea of a female clergy person as a formidable woman.’ She laughed and Wexford did too, though Mr Kilmartin’s view wasn’t far from his own. A lot of people had disapproved of poor Sarah Hussain and all of them men. ‘Still, we talked on the phone and made definite plans to meet. I was anxious to see Clarissa. She was a baby when I last saw her.’
Here was his opportunity to ask the awkward or intrusive question but Georgina Bray chose the moment to return with the coffee.
‘Clarissa will be here at any moment,’ she said, ‘so I brought a cup for her. Do go on talking. I promise I won’t listen. I’ll be deep in my book.’
But as she opened
Pride and Prejudice
at a point halfway through, he heard the front door close and Clarissa came in. In the current culture, she was too old for school uniform and wore a knee-length grey skirt, white blouse and grey-and- burgundy blazer. Thora got up, said how glad she was to meet her at last and they shook hands. She looked as if she would have liked to kiss the girl and even leaned a little towards her but there must have been something in Clarissa’s eyes or an almost imperceptible flinching which told her not to touch. The kind of small talk that Wexford could have himself composed word for word ensued.
After a few minutes of this Georgina got up and said, ‘Come along, Clarissa. I’ve got something upstairs I want to show you.’
‘What sort of something?’
Wexford was reminded of a scene from the very book Georgina had been reading where Mrs Bennet takes her daughters away to allow a visitor privacy to propose to the daughter who remains. The daughters react much as Clarissa had done and Mrs Bray much as Mrs Bennet.
‘You’ll soon see. Come along now.’
The girl went with her and Wexford thought it just as well the Bray children were grown up and gone or she would have been shepherding a flock to some non-existent treat. Thora Kilmartin looked as if she shared his amusement but her face with its perpetual half-smile suddenly saddened as he said he wanted to ask her something about Sarah Hussain’s life when they lived together.
‘You know you don’t have to talk to me, Mrs Kilmartin. I’m no longer a police officer.’
She nodded. ‘I know that. But there are things I’d like to tell you about Sarah and I think I can be pretty sure nothing I tell you will be made public.’
‘It will not,’ Wexford said firmly. He felt a little surge of excitement at the prospect of something interesting or out of the ordinary at last. ‘I was going to ask you if I might record this conversation but I’ve changed my mind. Even at my age I’ve got a pretty good memory.’
That made her smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘First, tell me if I’ve got these facts right. Sarah’s husband died in a car crash. They hadn’t been married very long so Sarah and perhaps both of them were very young?’
‘That’s right. Sarah had come down from university with, incidentally, a very good honours degree. Her husband Leo was a couple of years older. I didn’t know her then of course. They lived in Basingstoke and were married in church there. She got herself a qualification teaching English to
‘Lovely house, isn’t it?’
‘Very nice, yes.’ It was the same vintage as his own, one of a number of houses, detached, four-bedroomed, which had been built soon after the Second World War. ‘Mrs Kilmartin, I have to tell you I have read the letter you wrote to Ms Hussain last July.’
‘She kept it then?’
‘As a bookmark in the book she was reading at the time of her death. I think that shows it meant a lot to her.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Did she reply?’
‘To my letter? Oh, yes, she did. We lived rather too far apart to drop in on each other. I invited her to come and stay in the summer holidays but she said it would be too hard for her to get a locum – or whatever they call them in the Church. She invited me but my husband wasn’t keen. He has an idea of a female clergy person as a formidable woman.’ She laughed and Wexford did too, though Mr Kilmartin’s view wasn’t far from his own. A lot of people had disapproved of poor Sarah Hussain and all of them men. ‘Still, we talked on the phone and made definite plans to meet. I was anxious to see Clarissa. She was a baby when I last saw her.’
Here was his opportunity to ask the awkward or intrusive question but Georgina Bray chose the moment to return with the coffee.
‘Clarissa will be here at any moment,’ she said, ‘so I brought a cup for her. Do go on talking. I promise I won’t listen. I’ll be deep in my book.’
But as she opened
Pride and Prejudice
at a point halfway through, he heard the front door close and Clarissa came in. In the current culture, she was too old for school uniform and wore a knee-length grey skirt, white blouse and grey-and- burgundy blazer. Thora got up, said how glad she was to meet her at last and they shook hands. She looked as if she would have liked to kiss the girl and even leaned a little towards her but there must have been something in Clarissa’s eyes or an almost imperceptible flinching which told her not to touch. The kind of small talk that Wexford could have himself composed word for word ensued.
After a few minutes of this Georgina got up and said, ‘Come along, Clarissa. I’ve got something upstairs I want to show you.’
‘What sort of something?’
Wexford was reminded of a scene from the very book Georgina had been reading where Mrs Bennet takes her daughters away to allow a visitor privacy to propose to the daughter who remains. The daughters react much as Clarissa had done and Mrs Bray much as Mrs Bennet.
‘You’ll soon see. Come along now.’
The girl went with her and Wexford thought it just as well the Bray children were grown up and gone or she would have been shepherding a flock to some non-existent treat. Thora Kilmartin looked as if she shared his amusement but her face with its perpetual half-smile suddenly saddened as he said he wanted to ask her something about Sarah Hussain’s life when they lived together.
‘You know you don’t have to talk to me, Mrs Kilmartin. I’m no longer a police officer.’
She nodded. ‘I know that. But there are things I’d like to tell you about Sarah and I think I can be pretty sure nothing I tell you will be made public.’
‘It will not,’ Wexford said firmly. He felt a little surge of excitement at the prospect of something interesting or out of the ordinary at last. ‘I was going to ask you if I might record this conversation but I’ve changed my mind. Even at my age I’ve got a pretty good memory.’
That made her smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘First, tell me if I’ve got these facts right. Sarah’s husband died in a car crash. They hadn’t been married very long so Sarah and perhaps both of them were very young?’
‘That’s right. Sarah had come down from university with, incidentally, a very good honours degree. Her husband Leo was a couple of years older. I didn’t know her then of course. They lived in Basingstoke and were married in church there. She got herself a qualification teaching English to
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