“You know, I don’t want babies,” said Daisy. “Is that unnatural?”
“Not after all you’ve been through.”
“It’s all right for the men,” complained Daisy. “If they don’t want babies, they can wear a condom.”
The condom had been around since the time of the Egyptian pharaohs. Some say it was named after Dr Condom, who supplied Charles II with animal-tissue sheaths.
“There is a country way for women,” said Mrs Henry.
“What’s that?”
“You get a piece of green elm and stick it up your whatsit. The wood expands and blocks everything.”
“I wouldn’t know green elm. Can you get me some?”
“If you’re sure, m’dear. Seems bit hard on your man.”
“I would only use it for a little.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
♦
“I am Inspector Robinson,” said the inspector, facing Harry across a table scarred with cigarette burns and tea stains. “You visited Miss Thomson, the woman accused of the murders, last evening, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“I was curious about her state of mind. I had begun to consider writing a book on the criminal mind.”
“And she was well when you saw her?”
“Spitting venom, but otherwise fairly well. What is this about?”
“Half an hour after you left her bedside, she was found stabbed to death.”
“Good heavens, man, that had nothing to do with me!”
“We checked with the prison hospital and you, sir, were the last to see her.”
The questioning went on and on and then finally Harry was told they would be holding him overnight. He was formally charged with the murder of Thomson. Before he was led off to the cells he called his lawyer, who promised to be there first thing in the morning.
One of the policemen told his wife that evening of the arrest and the gossip swirled out of the town and reached Stacey Court.
The earl and countess were alarmed. Rose was strictly forbidden to visit Harry.
“We must get her away from here,” said the earl, “or Rose will decide to elope with a jailbird.”
“She can’t elope with him if he’s locked up.”
“Superintendent Kerridge is a friend of Cathcart’s and will probably get him released. We must get her away. Let’s take her up to Tarrach as fast as possible.” Tarrach was the earl’s hunting lodge in Perthshire. “I’ll get Matthew to make all the arrangements.”
♦
Daisy tried not to feel too selfishly upset when Rose told her that there had been no time to speak to Harry about Becket. “And you are going away tomorrow,” mourned Daisy.
She looked hopefully at Rose. “We could run away again.”
“I’m afraid I can’t face running away any more. The stay in Scotland will help me to make up my mind about Harry.”
♦
Becket called early in the morning at the police station with a change of clothes for Harry.
“This is ridiculous,” raged Harry. “I am being moved to London. My lawyer couldn’t get hold of Kerridge. I thought Lady Rose might have tried to see me.”
“Lady Rose was refused permission and the family are leaving for Scotland today.”
Harry fretted all the way to London and when he found himself locked up in a police cell in Pentonville Prison, he felt he was moving through a nightmare.
In the evening, a guard told him he was wanted in the governor’s office. Harry followed him along the bleak corridors and down the iron staircase to the governor’s office.
When he walked in, Kerridge was waiting. “My dear fellow,” said Kerridge, “this has all been a terrible mistake. We’ve caught the culprit, a hospital porter. It turns out he has a history of insanity. A nurse who was off duty when you were arrested saw him go into Thomson’s room. We found the knife that stabbed her on the floor and it had his fingerprints on it.”
“Wasn’t there a policeman on guard outside her door?” asked Harry.
“I’m afraid he had fallen asleep. We are so sorry.”
“You don’t begin to know what you have done,” said Harry. “Now get me out of here!”
Becket was waiting for him in the car outside. “Home, sir?”
“No, back to Stacey Court as soon as possible.”
“I am afraid it is too late. The family left for Scotland this morning.”
Harry felt bitter. He knew that Rose could be courageous and resourceful. She could have escaped from the house somehow and she could have come to see him.
It was finished. She did not care for him.
♦
It was a mellow summer in Perthshire. Rose went with her parents to various parties and exercised by walking on the moors. She knew she should feel relieved, and yet she felt dull and empty. She had read about the false arrest of Harry in the newspapers. She had also read about the successful opening of Miss Friendly’s salon, which had been delayed for a few weeks because a supply of brocade had not arrived in time, and experienced a pang of guilt that she had forgotten all about the opening.
She tried to tell herself that she was better off and safer without him, but she felt like a coward. She knew she should have escaped from Stacey Court and gone to see him.
One evening, she attended a grand ball given at the home of the Duke of Perthshire. As she whirled about the ballroom floor, Rose began to wish irrationally that Harry would walk in. She had wanted a peaceful social life and now she had it. Then she saw a man with his back to the ballroom standing at the entrance. He was tall and dark. Then he turned round and her heart sank. She had thought it was Harry.
Rose began to feel as if she had lost something very valuable.
♦
“This is a handsome sideboard, is it not?” demanded Becket.
“Yes,” said Daisy, looking up from the romance she was reading.
Becket ran a finger across the surface and held it up accusingly. “See? Dust! You’ve got nothing else to do all day. The least you could do is to keep the place clean.”
“Oh, clean it yourself. I’m bored being stuck here.”
Becket bent over her. “You are my wife and you will do what I say. When I return this evening, I want this place to be spotless. Do you hear me?”
“Stop shouting. They can probably hear you over at Tower Bridge.”
Becket crammed on his bowler hat and stormed out.
Daisy sighed. She looked thoughtfully at the phone.
On impulse, she picked it up and asked to be connected to Harry’s office. She asked the secretary if she could speak to Mr King.
“Who is calling?”
“Mrs Aymes.”
“One moment.”
Bernie’s voice came on the line. “It’s me, Daisy,” she whispered. “Care to meet me in Lyon’s for a cup of tea?”
“Hour’s time, Mrs Aymes,” said Bernie.
“Who was that?” asked Harry, who had just walked into the office.
“A Mrs Aymes,” said Bernie. “Friend of my mother’s. I’m taking her for a cup of tea at the Lyon’s in Victoria in an hour’s time, if that’s all right with you, sir.”
“Yes, I can’t see why not.”
♦
Daisy was just about to leave when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, it was to find Becket there accompanied by a squat woman. Becket was carrying a large bunch of red roses.
“What’s this?” asked Daisy.
“This is Mrs Blodge, who will do the cleaning.”
“I’ll start in the kitchen,” said Mrs Blodge cheerfully. “I allus starts in the kitchen.”
Becket handed Daisy the bouquet. “I’ll show you the kitchen. Wait there, Daisy. I see you’re dressed to go out. But I need to talk to you.”
Daisy waited nervously. She put the roses down on a side table. Becket came back.
“I’ve given Mrs Blodge a spare set of keys,” he said. “She can let herself out.” He took Daisy’s hands in his. “When I was walking away from here, I heard my own voice and the things I said to you, and I was that ashamed of myself We used to have fun, Daisy, and it’s a long time since I’ve heard you laugh. I phoned the captain and I’ve got the day off. We’re going out for a slap-up lunch, champagne – the lot. Can you forgive me?”