‘I do wish your mother and Fiona were not coming here.’
‘I know what you mean. It affects Garnet, too. Grandmother may think he ought to forbid them in the house. After all, he is the master here. Oh, well, go and do your telephoning if you think fit.’
‘And if she does ask me to call?’
‘I will expect you when I see you.’
‘I think it might be a few pence well spent.’
‘It is better not to think so, but off you go.’
Outside the little Post Office he met an acquaintance. ‘Why, good afternoon, Miss Pabbay,’ he said. ‘So you are not yet back in London? How is Mrs Leyden after her accident?’
‘You had better come back with me and find out.’
‘I was about to telephone.’
‘Oh, I have Lunn and the car just up the road. Excuse me while I buy some stamps. We’ve run out and I think she wants to write to her lawyers.’
‘That sounds interesting.’
‘Or ominous, depending upon how you look at it.’
Romula received Parsifal with unusual cordiality. ‘It is kind of you to call and enquire after me,’ she said, ‘but I am fully recovered.’
‘Perhaps you should inform the police of your dangerous experience.’
‘I have already done so by telephone, but, of course, I could give them little information. I do not even know whether my assailant was a man or a woman.’
‘Surely no woman would behave in such a manner?’
‘If you knew the way some women behave nowadays, you would not ask such a stupid question. Is my grandson giving house room to my daughter and Fiona?’
‘Well, really, that is nothing to do with Blue and me,’ protested Parsifal, looking alarmed.
‘I am aware of that. Pensioners seldom hold the whip-hand.’
‘We pay our way, thanks to some help from you.’
‘Barely. You live rent-free, I suppose, and are largely dependent upon the allowance which comes to Bluebell out of my purse.’
‘I am sorry you grudge it to her.’
‘Who said I grudged it? I think it is a pity you do not earn enough to keep her in the style she deserves, but that cannot be helped. No doubt you do your best, such as it is, if only as a beggar when the big bills come in.’
‘Yes, I do my best. It is not easy to follow one’s star. I still hope to make something of myself as a poet.’
‘As a poet, yes, perhaps. As a business man—well, that is beyond your grasp, although, as I say, you know how to beg. You had better put pressure on Rupert to pay for Fiona’s keep. I shall do nothing to help if she leaves me. But I won’t threaten you. You were of service to me this morning. How is my Black Prince?’
‘Gamaliel? Oh, he flourishes. I am sure he would have wished to be remembered to you had he known I was coming here this afternoon.’
‘Cupboard love!’
‘Oh, no! You do him an injustice.’
‘Yes,’ said Romula, after a pause during which Parsifal found himself surprised by his own bold comment. ‘Yes, I believe I do. Of course, your adopting him confirms me in my original estimate of you that you are neither prudent nor far-seeing, but he is an amusing and pleasant person. I may remember him later on.’
‘Well, I’m thankful you’re not prudent,’ said Bluebell, when she heard the story after tea on the terrace was over and Gamaliel had taken his books into Garnet’s room in order to con them while Garnet banged away on his ancient typewriter. ‘If being prudent means blackmailing her into getting Rupert to pay for Fiona’s keep, I hope you never will be prudent. Think no more of her unkind remarks and do not build your hopes for Gamaliel too high.’
‘You haven’t had any extra news while I was paying my visit to her?’
‘The only extra news would be the actual arrival of mother and Fiona and they have not come. Of course the quarrel with grandmother may have been made up by now.’
‘You sound as though you would regret that.’
‘Well, I should not be averse to the company of other women in a house which contains myself and three men.’
‘So it was not the money side of it which concerned you? It is a good thing you leave the financial side to me. I don’t know where we should be if you did not place the allowance your grandmother makes you in my hands.’
‘Yes, you are clever with money, Parsifal.’
‘So you don’t mind having Fiona here?’ said Parsifal, finding it unnecessary to disclose Romula’s views of him as a businessman.
‘Since you ask me, no. It is pleasant for a woman to have the company of other women. There are things they have in common which a man would not understand.’
‘I see. I have always thought, until now, that Gamaliel and I sufficed you.’
‘So you do. I said it would be pleasant to have some female society for a change. I did not say it was a necessity and I am far from thinking so. Would you mind taking on the washing-up? It is only three small plates and the cups and saucers, not anything greasy or unpleasant. The light is just right for a picture I want to paint. There are some new visitors at the hotel, you say, so it may be profitable to get a few pictures done while they are here, especially as, if mother and Fiona do come, I shall have less time to myself than I have at present.’
‘One of his new visitors, so Trev Poltrethy informed me this morning, is a very wealthy and important woman who is staying for a whole month. She has her own chauffeur who has been accommodated at the pub further up the hill. He is to report for duty each day.’
‘An important woman? Have we heard of her?’
‘Dame Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley. Her secretary, a Mrs Gavin, and two friends, travelled down with her, but Poltrethy gathers that the holiday marks a reunion of the three younger women, who have now gone off together. Dame Beatrice belongs to a much older generation than the others, and wishes them to enjoy a more adventurous time than the hotel can provide.’
‘Perhaps each of the others will buy a picture later on. When one member of an adult party shows interest, the others often feel inclined to follow suit. They are sure to return and pick her up, so I will have pictures ready.’
‘Then away with you, my dear, and put brush to canvas. Of course I will wash up the dishes.’
Bluebell collected her materials and, so burdened, did not attempt the route by way of the garden, the stepping stones and the smugglers’ track, but went through to the front of the house and took the steep but made-up slope which led to the village street and so down to the hotel and its small grey beach.
‘Somebody pushed my great grandmother over the edge of the cliff?’ said Gamaliel to Garnet on the following morning. ‘But who would do a thing like that to an old lady?’
‘How do you know anything about it, Greg?’
‘Oh,’ said Gamaliel, with a gesture which showed the pinkish palm of his hand, ‘I heard my mother and father talking about it. They also said you had done yourself a bit of no good by having Fiona here. Does that mean she will not give you her money when she dies?’
‘No, of course it doesn’t. In any case, she isn’t going to die for years and years yet.’
‘It must have frightened her very much, that fall. Old ladies are easily scared.’
‘Not this one. She was mad at herself, not scared.’
‘But how could she be mad at herself? She ought to have been mad with the man who pushed her.’
‘I’ll tell you something, Greg. There wasn’t any man. Nobody pushed her. She said there was because they are—I mean my mother and Fiona and even Mattie Lunn—they are always warning her that she ought not to be taking these cliff walks alone at her age. Her sight isn’t good, you see, and also, if she takes a fancy to a plant or a flower, she is apt to scramble after it. The cliff-path is perfectly safe for ordinary walkers, but not for a half-blind old lady who seems to think she’s a goat.’