Dance to Your Daddy

'Let me get this clear,' said Dame Beatrice, testing the girl. 'To inherit your grandfather's fortune, you must reach your twenty-fifth birthday. Should you die before that birthday, the money would go to an old woman named Bradley, whom you do not know. If you reach that birthday, and then either die or are considered incapable of managing your affairs, the fortune goes to Romilly Lestrange.'

'Or if I'm considered incapable before I'm twenty-five. Why did he ask you to come here?'

'I understand I am not to be the only guest,' said Dame Beatrice, side-stepping the question. 'Is there not to be quite a large houseparty?'

'Oh, I believe so. Why should all these idiotic relations come to Galliard Hall?'

'Perhaps Romilly thinks that Miss Judith is in need of young society.'

'I think she's Mrs Judith. I think they're married. And do you know what else I'm beginning to think? I think he dare not kill me himself, and he's going to sound out these others, and find which one can be bribed to do it for him. I suppose he's brought you here as a second string to his bow, in case the killing doesn't come off. You're a psychiatrist, he tells me, and your name is Professor Beatrice Adler. Are you related to the famous Adler, by any chance?'

'There are two famous Adlers,' Dame Beatrice responded. 'There is Alfred Adler, the pupil of, and, later, the dissentient from, Sigmund Freud, who, to my mind, was inestimably the greater man, and there is also, of course, the musician Larry Adler, of whom I hear good reports from my younger relatives.'

'Oh, yes, I adore him and his harmonica-playing. I think he's wonderful,' said Rosamund.

'They allow you a radioset, then,' said Dame Beatrice, deciding to shelve the question of her name. In Romilly Lestrange, she was beginning to think, she had hit what Laura would call 'a new high' in her catalogue of smooth villains. She was also beginning to wonder whether Rosamund was quite what she seemed.

'Well, they did, until they took it out of my room and threw it away. From that time they haven't let me have any proper clothes. That's to stop me running away again, of course,' said the girl.

'And you did not throw the radio set into the sea?'

'Of course I didn't! I wanted it. I miss it terribly.'

'Nor did you drown the gramophone records, the cat, and the monkey?'

'Of course I didn't. They made it all up. They've also got some silly story about a baby doll. It's all such a lot of nonsense-but it's very wicked, all the same. I'm in a trap, and I'm dreadfully frightened.'

'Were you ever pregnant?'

'How could I be? Surely they didn't tell you that! I'm not even married.'

'That, of course, is not necessarily an obstacle to a pregnancy.'

'You're not on their side, are you? I thought you were my friend! Have you brought me out here to kill me? I've got a pistol in my pocket, you know!'

George spoke for the first time since the car had moved away from the house.

'Don't be silly, miss,' he said, in a severely avuncular tone. 'I beg your pardon, madam. I ought to tell you, though, that ever since we turned off B3351 I've had an idea I was being followed, and now I'm sure I am. Would there be any instructions?'

'No, George. Just carry on to Swanage, as planned.' She turned to her charge. 'What was your grandfather's name?'

'Felix Napoleon Lestrange. He died in April, 1966.'

'So you are a Lestrange by birth? Most interesting.'

As they passed the obelisk on Ballard Down, George reported that the other car had turned off to the left for Studland.

'Was it Romilly's car?' asked Rosamund.

'To the best of my knowledge and belief, miss, it was the old Standard I've seen in the garage. The colour was the same, but they've been keeping far enough away-I've lost them now and again on the bends-for me not to be able to read the number plate, so, of course, I couldn't take my oath on it.'

(2)

'Do we dare to ask how you got on this afternoon, my dear Beatrice?' asked Romilly, when they were gathered ready for tea.

'Certainly. We spent a short time-twenty minutes, perhaps-gazing at the sea. We also had our first session.'

'Were other people there?' asked Judith. 'If so, didn't they stare?'

'Why should they stare?'

'Oh, well, surely they would think Trilby's get-up rather unusual.'

'Have you been in London recently?'

'No, I haven't. Why?'

'If you had, you would see nothing unusual in the way Mrs Romilly was dressed. The latest fashions for the young are so bizarre that even a Georgian costume, complete with jabot, lace ruffles, knee-breeches and buckled shoes, would be considered rather unenterprising, and, in any case, Rosamund had covered her finery with a heavy, caped coat.' She thought it unnecessary to mention that she and Rosamund had not left the car. They had lowered the windows and sat warmly wrapped up in the car rugs.

'Really!' said Judith. 'I wonder how Trilby has learnt about the London fashions, then?'

'Oh, they are pictured in the newspapers, no doubt,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I suppose you allow her to see a newspaper from time to time?'

'Never mind the fashions,' said Romilly. 'How did she behave?'

'She was no trouble, if that is what you mean. Of course, I have yet to gain her full confidence.'

'But you have already had an effect on her?'

'Very possibly. I should have even more effect on her if I could remove her from this house for a time.'

'She made no attempt to throw anything into the sea?' pursued Romilly, completely ignoring the suggestion.

'Certainly not; neither did we make any attempt to drown one another.'

'You are being facetious, my dear Beatrice.'

'In my opinion, you yourself have been treating matters all too seriously. There is nothing more debilitating for any invalid than to allow her to think she is worse than is really the case.'

'Well,' said Judith, 'I hardly see how Trilby could be worse than we think her. To change the subject, Uncle Romilly, our guests begin to arrive tomorrow. I wonder, Dame Beatrice, whether you would care to see what arrangements I have made for them? I imagine that you will not take the after-tea session Uncle Romilly had arranged, as you have been with Trilby all the afternoon?'

'No, I shall not need to see her again today.'

'While you are showing Beatrice over the house, I think I would like to talk to Trilby myself,' said Romilly. 'I am interested to find out what she thought of her afternoon out.'

'Not if you wish me to continue the treatment. Any interference at present would set her back, I'm afraid,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I do beg of you not to question her.'

'I am her husband.'

Dame Beatrice shrugged her thin shoulders.

'I have no desire, of course, to make an issue of it,' she said, 'but, after all, you may be her husband in name, yet you neither have her at your table nor in your bed.'

'Plain speaking!' Romilly looked surprised and amused.

'There are times in every doctor's life when there is nothing else for it. The professional, not the individual, speaks, so you must bear with me and allow me to give the orders where my patient is concerned.'

'Very well.' They were seated in front of one of the two fireplaces in the great hall. 'Shall we go into the drawing-room?'

'No, let's have tea in here,' said Judith. 'I'm warm and comfortable by this beautiful log fire. It seems a pity to move. Ring the bell, Uncle.' Romilly did this, but the bell was not answered quickly enough to please Judith, who spoke sharply when Amabel's sister, at the end of five minutes, appeared from the corridor which Dame Beatrice had traversed twice that afternoon. 'You've been a long time coming, Violet!'