‘Fear of the unknown is the worst kind of fear,’ Payne said amiably.
‘Well, the heavens didn’t fall and there wasn’t a great bolt of lightning! You are not related to the Remnant family, are you?’
‘Only in an exceedingly distant sort of way. My aunt tried to explain exactly how, but it all sounded too convoluted and far-fetched for words. I met Felicity Fenwick yesterday, for the first time. You are Clarissa’s aunt, correct?’
‘Correct. I am Clarissa’s mother’s sister. Clarissa’s late mother. I am Clarissa’s only living relation. Poor child. I care deeply about my daughter — I mean niece — Clarissa is like a daughter to me … I must admit I always had misgivings about Clarissa’s marriage to Lord Remnant. I’d heard stories. I knew something would go wrong at some point. I felt it in my bones.’
‘Was he really as awful as that?’ Antonia asked.
For a moment or two, Hortense gazed at them, saying nothing. Then she leant forward slightly. ‘I believe he was truly evil. That marriage should never have taken place, never. I tried to warn Clarissa but she wouldn’t listen to me. Marriage is a serious affair, to be entered into only after long deliberation and forethought, and suitability of tastes and inclinations should be considered very carefully indeed. I don’t think Clarissa had much in common with Remnant, apart from a penchant for theatricals.’
‘He was older than her, wasn’t he?’
‘Much older. I suspect she was dazzled by his ancient title and — and by that island. How I hate that island!’ Hortense cried. ‘Almost as much as I hate St George’s Church. At one time I felt like burning St George’s Church to the ground. I really did.’
‘St George’s Church in Hanover Square?’
‘Yes. That was where the wedding took place. That’s where the accursed Remnant married her. Irrational of me, I know, but that’s how I felt. Poor Clarissa. No daughter of mine should have had to endure-’ Hortense broke off. ‘I keep saying things I shouldn’t be saying. Somehow you have succeeded in goading me into unguarded speech. I keep forgetting you are perfect strangers.’
‘That’s not such a bad thing, is it?’ Antonia smiled.
‘Did you say Felicity Fenwick showed you a tape? And perhaps you believe that it was I who sent it? What if I denied any knowledge of the tape?’
‘Somehow I don’t think you would.’
‘You exude such certainty, Major Payne. It is reassuring somehow. It is Major Payne, isn’t it? Of course you have nothing to do with the police?’
‘Nothing at all.’
‘I hope I never have to talk to the police, though heaven knows what the future holds … Do remind me of your name, my dear?’
‘Antonia.’
‘And you and Major Payne are-? Sorry! I have no business asking questions like that.’
‘Husband and wife.’
‘Husband and wife. I am so glad. Makes such a difference. You strike me as extremely nice people, if you don’t mind my saying so. I am rarely wrong. I suppose I am old enough to be your mother?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Antonia said. ‘We are not as young as you seem to think.’
‘I can never tell people’s ages. I believe you to be of superior intelligence, but also sensitive, understanding, compassionate and, most importantly, sympathetic. I have the feeling I have known you a long time.’
‘I am glad you don’t find us threatening.’
‘Murder is a terrible business. I keep thinking of those characters in Elizabethan tragedies, who burst into castle halls, shouting, “Murdered — he’s been murdered!” … I can’t get what happened out of my head … Didn’t someone describe murder as a tangible expression of hysteria? No, I am fine, Antonia, just a touch of vertigo. I haven’t been eating properly. Another cushion, yes, thank you, dear.’
‘Have you taken anything?’ Payne asked. ‘Any medication?’
‘I have been taking some tablets. I believe they are quite strong and they seem to have a number of side effects. In normal circumstances I am much more reticent. I was prescribed tablets for anxiety, you see. I was in such a bad state, I had to go to the doctor’s.’
‘You don’t have to apologize,’ Antonia said.
‘I tend to regard going to the doctor’s as an unnecessary indulgence. My mother was like that. My mother was terribly puritanical … Poor Clarissa told me she was taking something too. We are so alike. I have no idea about the Hunters’ current state of mind. I don’t know whether they are being gnawed at by their guilty conscience or whether they have managed to draw a veil over the whole shocking episode.’
‘You know the Hunters well?’
‘No, not at all well. We were fellow guests. I’d never met them before. She likes tea and he likes coffee. She is a big lumbering woman. He has a moustache. He is something of a Dismal Desmond. That’s all I know about them. I don’t think they communicate much. Communication is important in a marriage, isn’t it?’
‘A sine qua non,’ Payne said solemnly.
Hortense took a sip of tea. ‘Dr Valdemar wanted me to tell him what the trouble was, such a kind man, and I did want to tell him, but of course I couldn’t. The same thing happened when a clergyman friend came to see me the other day. Toute verite n’est pas bonne a dire. He said he would pray for me. I am not boring you, am I?’
‘Not at all,’ Antonia reassured her.
Sometimes she found herself telling the truth only partially — or with distortions, Hortense went on. ‘Not the whole truth, if you know what I mean. I’ve managed to convince myself it makes me feel better. That it assuages the emotional chaos inside me. Who said, Trust me not at all, or all in all?’
‘Tennyson, I think,’ Payne said.
‘Tennyson, yes. The Victorians knew all about trust, didn’t they? You know the story of King Midas who had ass’s ears? He kept trying to conceal them, poor wretch, couldn’t live with the awful truth, so he dug a hole in the ground and jumped in and whispered, “King Midas has ass’s ears!” Then he filled up the hole, but the earth, being a woman, spread the story and the reeds started whispering, “King Midas has donkey’s ears!”’
‘We promise to be more discreet than Mrs Earth,’ Payne said. ‘Ass’s ears, eh? Why does this ring a bell? Oh yes. There was someone dressed up as an ungulate that night, wasn’t there? Or rather, as Bottom after his transformation?’
‘So you saw the shadow? I dreamt of it the other night. Well, we all knew he was there. I mean Stephan. He should have been kept in his room, under lock and key. We ought to have taken better care of him, then, perhaps, tragedy would have been averted.’
‘Shall I pour you another cup of tea?’
‘Yes, thank you, Antonia. Well, I must say this doesn’t feel like an inquisition at all. I assume it was Lord Remnant who asked you to look into the matter? I mean the new Lord Remnant. The thirteenth earl. The former Mr Fenwick.’
‘We are actually acting on behalf of Lady Remnant,’ Payne explained.
‘Lady Remnant? You mean Clarissa asked you-? But that’s impossible!’ Hortense looked at him wildly. ‘No. Clarissa is the Dowager Lady Remnant now. The Dowager Countess. Dear me. So confusing! You mean Felicity Fenwick of course. Poor Clarissa is far from well, but she said she didn’t want me to feel sorry for her. She was a bit snappy with me. It causes me such pain — if only she knew!’
‘You phoned her?’
‘I did. I keep phoning her. I want to know how she is. I care about her deeply.’ Hortense’s eyes were fixed on the bookcase. ‘If only I’d had the chance to bring her up myself, things might have been different … She seemed at first to think I was a man! My voice sounded terribly hoarse, I suppose. I only said, “That you, Clarissa?” She gasped. She sounded scared out of her wits, poor child. It really made me feel guilty.’