“Yes, I’m sure it is,” said Joanna briskly. “Goodbye, Mrs. Pratt.” She allowed herself to slam the door, but only a little, because otherwise it would set the water pipe gurgling in that sinister way it had when it intended to produce nothing but a few brownish drops the next time you turned it on.
Turning back into the room, she noticed that her mother-in-law’s usually rosy face had gone quite pale.
“Corinne, did she say?” she asked anxiously. “Corinne Fair-brother? Then it must be Robert’s old girlfriend. The one you got him on the rebound from.”
Joanna nodded — though she felt that the thing could perhaps have been phrased more elegantly. Somewhat to her surprise — and certainly to her relief — Mrs. Trent asked no further questions either then or when, later, Robert arrived back, tired and somewhat wary, to be confronted with the news of the lost binoculars. Usually, he treated his mother’s absent-mindedness with tolerant amusement, teasing her over her little mishaps and making her laugh; but not this time. Under the cloud of his not unjustified displeasure, his mother’s usual flow of chatter was dried up at its source; and though Joanna did her best to keep some sort of a conversation going during the evening, it was uphill work; and in the end the uncomfortable silences were broken only by Polly, who had learned to make exactly the gurgling noises produced by the faulty water pipes when they were about to go wrong.
By bedtime, Joanna was at her wit’s end. If this was how it was going to be, then how on earth were they to get through the rest of the holiday? If only, she thought, Robert would at least pretend to be enjoying the company of his family; would make an effort, at least part of the time, to act the part of a loving husband and affectionate and dutiful son.
And up to a point, this was exactly what happened. The very next morning brought the news that the binoculars had turned up safe and sound, and this of course lightened the atmosphere considerably. Thereafter, Robert really did seem to be trying, intermittently, to please his womenfolk, honouring them with his company for at least a part of each day, and disappearing on implausible pretexts rather less frequently than before, and for rather shorter lengths of time.
In fact, as the days went by, it was her mother-in-law’s disappearances that began to worry Joanna, rather than those of her husband. Even Robert began to notice them.
“Where’s Mother?” he asked her one afternoon, joining her on the beach rather earlier than she’d expected. “I thought she was here with you.”
“She’s gone off for a walk on the cliffs, I think,” said Joanna vaguely, and with a slight sense of unease.
“Again? She’s always doing that. What’s the matter with her, Jo? She’s so quiet these days, and keeps going off like this. What is it?”
“I think she goes to see Mrs. Pratt on the cliff sometimes,” said Joanna guardedly, wondering as she spoke what new ideas Mrs. Pratt might even now be instilling into their mother’s all too suggestible mind.
“And another thing,” continued Robert. “She’s becoming so — how can I put it? — so reliable, somehow. Like yesterday: you asked her to go to the farm for a dozen eggs and a pint of milk. And what does she come back with, if you please? Why, a dozen eggs and a pint of milk! Not a cauliflower, mark you! Not half a pound of butter and a kitten! What’s the matter with her?”
He laughed as he spoke, and Joanna laughed with him; but behind the joking, she sensed an uneasiness in him which she could not but share. After a quick swim, impelled by a vague and unspoken anxiety, they made their way back to the bungalow.
Joanna was walking a little ahead, and so it was she who saw it first: a carelessly folded sheet of paper lying just inside the front door. Only after she had picked it up and read the brief message did she notice that it was addressed to Robert:
“By the time you read this, I shall be dead. Forgive me, I can see no other way out.
Together they stared at it.
“It’s just a bit of play-acting, of course,” said Robert at last, though his voice shook a little. “She’s always threatening this sort of thing. It’s... I... Look, Jo, I’m sorry! I think I’d better tell you the truth...!”
“If you mean the truth that you’ve been having an affair with the bloody woman and ruining our whole holiday, then don’t bother!” burst out Joanna. “I know what you’ve been doing! As if I care! Go to her if you want to... Smash our marriage if you want to, I’m not stopping you...!” And with tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed towards the back door.
“Jo...! Jo...!” He grasped her arm and pulled her back. “Jo, darling, it’s over! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I met her for the last time today, at the pub, and I told her once and for all that I’m not breaking up my marriage! No way am I getting into her clutches again — once in a lifetime was enough, thank you very much! She can blackmail me all she likes with these fake suicide threats — it’s over. Do you hear me, Jo — it’s over! You’re the one I love... You have been all along—”
How quickly Joanna would have allowed herself to be convinced, and to wallow in the joys of reconciliation, would never be known, for no sooner had he begun moving to take her into his arms than a sudden commotion made them both turn round. Stumbling, half-running through the sandy grass beyond the door, came Mrs. Trent; gasping for breath, her face scarlet, her grey curls plastered against her forehead and a wild look in her eyes.
“Corinne!” she gasped. “She’s dead! She jumped over the cliff and killed herself!”
Robert gripped his mother’s arm to support her.
“What do you mean? How do you know?”
“I saw her! I happened to be walking along the cliff, and I looked down and I saw her! Stone dead on the rocks below!”
“Look, Mother, sit down and tell us about it quietly. You found her dead on the rocks. How do you know it wasn’t an accident? How do you know she killed herself?”
“Why, she left a note, didn’t she? I—” Mrs. Trent suddenly grew more scarlet than ever, and burst into tears. Robert’s voice was very grave.
“How do you know about the note? Come on, Mother, tell us exactly what happened?”
“I didn’t mean to say anything about the note! Oh dear, I’m all in a muddle. I meant people to think she’d written it, of course. Oh dear, it’s no good! Oh, Robert, I pushed her over the cliff! I did it for you, Robert! To save your marriage.”
“Mother! How could you? How could you think...? Oh, God, now what in the world can we...? Listen! Listen, Jo — the first thing we must do — before we think of anything else — the first thing we must do is to work out how to cover up Mother’s tracks before the police get onto it. You know what she is — she’s bound to have left clues galore all over the place.”
“I have not!” retorted his mother, with a semblance of returning dignity. “You talk as if I’m senile! I’ve never been senile, I’m only careless; all I had to do was to take care. Besides, you know what a lot of detective stories I read, I’ve thought of everything. Listen!”