Read Online Withering Heights by Dorothy Cannell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dorothy Cannell
Ads: Link
murmured against my hair. “I should never have gone out on our first evening without the children. Forgive me, sweetheart. It was that damned review!”
“I know.” I returned his kiss. “Darling, you have no idea how lucky I feel. It’s like winning the lottery to realize how blessed I am to have you and how our normal life is. You see, while you were gone we had a surprise visitor.”
“Who?”
“You’ll never believe it.”
Through the open doorway I heard Mrs. Malloy telling Ariel about Madam LaGrange’s expertise in the arena of the supernatural.
4
I ’m glad you’re coming,” I told Ben the following morning, “but I doubt it will be more than a turn-around trip. I can’t see the Hopkinses inviting us to stay for a few days. Especially after your saying Tom sounded as though he couldn’t wait to get you off the phone last night.”
“He was understandably embarrassed.”
“It’s Ariel’s finger-crossed hope they’ll feel under an obligation, especially as we are taking her back.”
“Who knows?” Ben handed me a pair of his pajamas to put in the suitcase. We were in our bedroom, a roomy apartment with warmly aged dark oak furniture and rose-patterned chintz fabrics. Bright sunshine poured in through the windows, as if eager to atone for the storm. “Betty may enjoy demonstrating her detective skills to you and Mrs. Malloy byflaunting a spyglass when looking under rocks for the body of the missing husband.”
“Who, according to Ariel”—I zipped up the case—“is in reality off on a safari or climbing Mount Everest. It seems the more probable scenario. Had his absence aroused suspicion, there would surely have been a hue and cry from the police.”
Ben eyed me thoughtfully. “Has it occurred to you Ariel is hoping you’ll blow the Mr. Gallagher’s Ghost theory out of the water as a means of publicly humiliating Betty? That kid is a tough little customer if ever I saw one.”
“That could be a front.” I crossed to the dressing-table mirror and assessed my reflection critically. “She’s vulnerable. That’s something I can understand because so was I at her age. Where she’s thin and pasty, I was podgy and pie-faced. Under those circumstances, one learns either to stand up for oneself or let the bullies reduce you to a cowering huddle.”
“You were never pie-faced.” Coming up behind me, Ben placed his hands on my shoulders. “Must I punish you for such statements?” His lips brushed my neck.
“That’s how I saw myself. It didn’t help that I sat next to the prettiest girl in our class. Her name was Bridie O’Donnell. She had beautiful black curly hair, perfect skin, and the bluest eyes. I used to go to bed at night and pretend I was her. For good measure I gave myself a wonderful singing voice, a flair for languages, and the ability to perform cartwheels.”
“I bet you could give her a run for her money now.”
“Nice of you to say, Mr. H.” I smiled at him in the mirror and decided that I did look better than might have been hoped when I was twelve or thirteen. My hair had decided to comply that morning and stay put in its chignon, and a flick of mascara had brought out the green in my eyes, matching rather nicelythe dress I was wearing. “Perfume,” I said, reaching for the bottle, but Ben turned me to face him.
“I like your scent. Eau de Ellie, sunshine with a subtle bouquet of furniture polish.” He kissed me deeply and there were no shadows at Merlin’s Court.
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” I admitted. “My mind was too busy, so I got up early and had a whip round with the spray can of lavender wax. There’s nothing like a little light housework for clearing away the mental cobwebs. Mrs. Malloy headed for the bus stop after breakfast. She should be back by now with her suitcase. If her sister doesn’t offer to put her up, she’ll be looking for a place in Milton Moor to spend the night. Which will be the same for us, if Tom and
“I know.” I returned his kiss. “Darling, you have no idea how lucky I feel. It’s like winning the lottery to realize how blessed I am to have you and how our normal life is. You see, while you were gone we had a surprise visitor.”
“Who?”
“You’ll never believe it.”
Through the open doorway I heard Mrs. Malloy telling Ariel about Madam LaGrange’s expertise in the arena of the supernatural.
4
I ’m glad you’re coming,” I told Ben the following morning, “but I doubt it will be more than a turn-around trip. I can’t see the Hopkinses inviting us to stay for a few days. Especially after your saying Tom sounded as though he couldn’t wait to get you off the phone last night.”
“He was understandably embarrassed.”
“It’s Ariel’s finger-crossed hope they’ll feel under an obligation, especially as we are taking her back.”
“Who knows?” Ben handed me a pair of his pajamas to put in the suitcase. We were in our bedroom, a roomy apartment with warmly aged dark oak furniture and rose-patterned chintz fabrics. Bright sunshine poured in through the windows, as if eager to atone for the storm. “Betty may enjoy demonstrating her detective skills to you and Mrs. Malloy byflaunting a spyglass when looking under rocks for the body of the missing husband.”
“Who, according to Ariel”—I zipped up the case—“is in reality off on a safari or climbing Mount Everest. It seems the more probable scenario. Had his absence aroused suspicion, there would surely have been a hue and cry from the police.”
Ben eyed me thoughtfully. “Has it occurred to you Ariel is hoping you’ll blow the Mr. Gallagher’s Ghost theory out of the water as a means of publicly humiliating Betty? That kid is a tough little customer if ever I saw one.”
“That could be a front.” I crossed to the dressing-table mirror and assessed my reflection critically. “She’s vulnerable. That’s something I can understand because so was I at her age. Where she’s thin and pasty, I was podgy and pie-faced. Under those circumstances, one learns either to stand up for oneself or let the bullies reduce you to a cowering huddle.”
“You were never pie-faced.” Coming up behind me, Ben placed his hands on my shoulders. “Must I punish you for such statements?” His lips brushed my neck.
“That’s how I saw myself. It didn’t help that I sat next to the prettiest girl in our class. Her name was Bridie O’Donnell. She had beautiful black curly hair, perfect skin, and the bluest eyes. I used to go to bed at night and pretend I was her. For good measure I gave myself a wonderful singing voice, a flair for languages, and the ability to perform cartwheels.”
“I bet you could give her a run for her money now.”
“Nice of you to say, Mr. H.” I smiled at him in the mirror and decided that I did look better than might have been hoped when I was twelve or thirteen. My hair had decided to comply that morning and stay put in its chignon, and a flick of mascara had brought out the green in my eyes, matching rather nicelythe dress I was wearing. “Perfume,” I said, reaching for the bottle, but Ben turned me to face him.
“I like your scent. Eau de Ellie, sunshine with a subtle bouquet of furniture polish.” He kissed me deeply and there were no shadows at Merlin’s Court.
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” I admitted. “My mind was too busy, so I got up early and had a whip round with the spray can of lavender wax. There’s nothing like a little light housework for clearing away the mental cobwebs. Mrs. Malloy headed for the bus stop after breakfast. She should be back by now with her suitcase. If her sister doesn’t offer to put her up, she’ll be looking for a place in Milton Moor to spend the night. Which will be the same for us, if Tom and
Similar Books
