Read Online The Empty House by Michael Gilbert - Free Book Online Page B

lovely time. Later we went back to live in London, and things weren’t such fun any more. Jonathan, my brother, was sent by his firm to New Zealand and got married and decided to stay out there.”
    He wasn’t going to tell her about the other things.
    Anna said, “Something happened which made you very unhappy.”
    “Yes. “
    “Then don’t talk about it. Only think about nice things. Jumping in and out of the water like a little frog, and eating porridge.”
    She was half lying, propped up on her elbows. Her left hand was quite close to Peter’s right hand. As he moved it cautiously forward, Anna shivered suddenly, jumped to her feet, and said, “Let’s go back to the car. All that talk about porridge. It’s made me feel hungry again.”
    When they got back to the hotel, they found Kevin, very pleased with himself. He had managed to hire an old Army-surplus Jeep with a winching attachment which he was demonstrating to Dave Brewer.
    “You just hammer one of these pickets into the ground, fasten yourself to it, and wind yourself out backward.”
    “You get yourself bogged down to rights,” said Mr. Brewer, “and you won’t get out with no winches. Only one thing’ll pull you clear. That’s a team of cart horses.”
    “We’ll see,” said Kevin. “We’ll see.”
    It was at ten o’clock that night that the telephone call came.
    “For me?” said Peter. He had not yet told even his head office where they could find him, although he should certainly have done so.
    “It’s you he asked for,” said Mr. Brewer. “Mr. Mansipple. Didn’t give his name.”
    The telephone was in a dark, triangular recess under the stairs. By bending his head and stooping forward from the waist, Peter was able to get at the instrument, but by no contortion could he have managed to shut the door behind him.
    “Mr. Manciple?” said a voice which he thought he recognised.
    “Yes,” said Peter.
    “It is Dr. Bishwas, from the Research Station. I have something I wish to tell you. It is of great importance that we should meet.”
    “I’d be only too glad. Do you want me to come to your quarters?”
    “That would not be a good arrangement. No, I shall come out and have a word with you.”
    “It’s kind of you to take the trouble. Where do you suggest, and when?”
    “Now, as soon as possible.” The note of urgency in Dr. Bishwas’ voice was unmistakable. “If you will take your car and drive out on the road, as you did this morning. But do not turn down the side road which leads to our front entrance. Go beyond it, and take the next turning. It runs along the outside of our boundary fence. Follow it to the end of the fence, and I will be waiting for you at the corner and will guide you from there.”
    “That seems clear enough,” said Peter slowly. “Shall I start now?”
    There was a pause. Peter got the impression that Dr. Bishwas might be consulting someone; perhaps his own conscience?
    “No. I shall not be able to get away immediately. Could you be there at eleven o’clock, please?”
    “Very well,” said Peter. “Is that all?”
    “That is all, for the moment.”
    Peter extracted himself from the recess and stood for a moment in the hall thinking. He would have to mention the matter to Mr. Brewer. Otherwise he could well find himself locked out when he got back. He found the landlord shepherding the last of the drinkers out of the public bar.
    “That’s all right,” he said. “I’ll let you have a key. I’ll leave the light on in the downstairs passage. Turn it out when you come back.” He seemed uninterested in the reason for this midnight excursion.
    Peter went up to his room. There was time before he need start. He got out a pad of paper, sat down in the chair beside his bed, and tried to compose his thoughts. Superficially, he had made little progress and had almost nothing to report. Nevertheless certain nebulous ideas were already forming in his mind: shadowy possibilities, the children not of