A Slightly Bitter Taste Page 5

  Irene sat down primly on the edge of an arm-chair with her knees close together. When she was satisfied that her skirt hadn’t climbed up, she said, “Oh, dear. Traffic gets worse all the time. It’s exasperating” — she giggled again — “isn’t it? Almost makes it not worth while coming all this way … if you know what I mean.”

  Ford said, “You like coming here. You always have. Wouldn’t matter to you if it took twice as long.”

  “Oh, yes, of course I do. I didn’t mean …” Her colourless voice faded away and she nicked a nervous look at Quinn while she tried to decide what she had meant.

  Then she giggled once more. She said, “Well, it makes a change … doesn’t it?”

  Quinn didn’t think she cared whether he agreed or disagreed or just remained quiet. But he disliked being pushed into the background by a man like Neil Ford.

  So he said, “Certainly makes a very pleasant change for me.”

  She brightened as though he had paid her a compliment. With a self-conscious wriggle of her thin shoulders, she said, “Nice here … isn’t it?”

  He told himself that everything she said had an unnecessary question tacked on to it because she had a pathological need to be reassured … like so many of those people interviewed on TV who couldn’t talk without inserting kind of and sort of and you know into every second phrase. Only the indefinite type of person used the word definitely so often.

  Another part of his mind kept asking him if she had noticed how her husband was looking at Carole, his eyes straying down to her legs time and time again. Maybe Irene didn’t know or didn’t care. Maybe she’d learned long ago that there was nothing she could do about it.

  Through his thoughts he heard Carole saying “… Are you people hungry? If you are, don’t wait until Adele gets home. Mr. Quinn and I have already had something to eat.”

  Irene wriggled and said, “You know what? I’ve just realised that she and Michael aren’t here. Isn’t that funny?”

  Neil Ford said, “No. Your mind’s always a million miles away.”

  He looked at Carole and asked, “Has Michael gone to meet the bus?”

  “Yes. He should be back any time now … well, in about fifteen minutes unless the bus happens to be late.”

  As though continuing the same trend of conversation, Irene got up and said, “I think I’ll go and spend a penny —”

  She broke off short and gave Quinn an embarrassed look. She said, “Oh, how awful. I completely forgot there was a strange man in the room. Please excuse me.”

  With that same wriggle of her thin shoulders, she walked primly to the foot of the staircase. Then she looked round at her husband and said, “Don’t forget to bring in our things from the car … will you, dear?”

  Neil said, “No, I won’t forget … dear.”

  He watched her go upstairs, her head bent as though she were counting each step she took. Then he went outside.

  Quinn looked at Carole and said, “Happy families …”

  She made a face. She said, “They’ve had a row. I can always tell. He behaves as if he’s got a hair down his back and she keeps calling him dear.”

  “You’re quite the little student of character, aren’t you?”

  “There isn’t much to study in those two.”

  With a trace of apology in her voice, she added, “I shouldn’t have got you into this. If I’d known …”

  “Known what?”

  “Well, the situation might be kind of prickly. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to invite you. Between this and that it’s not going to be much of a weekend.”

  “Not to worry. I won’t ask for my money back.”

  “No … but you must be thinking this is a crazy household. Adele isn’t here when we arrive; soon’s we walk in, Michael goes off and leaves us to fend for ourselves; then you get a sample of Neil and Irene. Not a good start, is it?”

  “Sunshine, good food, plenty to drink,” Quinn said. “With you thrown in as a bonus what have I got to complain about?”

  Carole came over and stood looking down into his eyes. After a little silence, she said, “I’m beginning to think you are nice.” With a look on her face that he hadn’t seen before she stooped and kissed him swiftly on the cheek.

  Neil Ford came back. He was carrying a small suitcase and he had a folded raincoat slung over his arm.

  He said, “I think I’ll have a drink before I take this stuff upstairs.”

  “I’ll get it for you,” Carole said. “What would you like?”

  “Oh, anything that’ll buck up my appetite. A dry sherry will do. I never seem able to eat when the weather gets hot.”

  “Most people eat less when it’s like this,” Carole said.

  She brought out several bottles before she found the right one. While she was pouring out his sherry he walked across to the bar and stood there with his back towards Quinn.

  It could have been an unintentional slight but Quinn didn’t think so. Ford had already made his attitude quite obvious.

  He drank his sherry, murmured something to Carole, and laughed as though they shared some private joke. Then he picked up his case. Without looking at Quinn he went upstairs.

  Carole put the bottle of sherry away and looked at Quinn with a smile that he knew was meant to pacify him. She said, “I can understand how you feel but don’t pay any attention.”

  “How did you guess what I was thinking?”

  “It’s written all over you. If you want my advice don’t let him see he’s succeeded in getting your back up. He likes nothing better. Imagines it makes him look big in other people’s eyes.”

  “Yours, for instance?”

  “Don’t ask silly questions. I’m not interested in Neil Ford.”

  “Just as well, isn’t it? After all, he’s married.”

  “If you go on like this you’ll become a bore,” Carole said. “And I can stand anything except being bored. For your information, Neil’s the kind of man I don’t like, married or single.”

  Quinn said, “Before this week-end’s over maybe I’ll find out the kind of man you do like. What was the big joke?”

  She looked momentarily puzzled. Then her face cleared and she said, “Oh, that … Believe it or not, I don’t know. I didn’t quite catch what he said … but it wasn’t anything about you. So you don’t need to start —”

  The phone bell cut her off. As it rang again footsteps sounded on the floor above.

  Before she had time to come out from behind the bar Ford came trotting downstairs. He said, “O.K. I’ll take it. Might be for me.”

  The phone was on the other side of the open-plan divider. Through a gap in the upper shelves, Quinn saw Ford pick up the receiver.

  He said, “Yes … yes … oh, hallo, where are you? … This is Neil.”

  As he listened to the voice at the other end a bank of cloud drifted over the face of the sun and the windows darkened in sudden twilight. South of Castle Lammering the sky had become black across the whole expanse of the horizon.

  Carole glanced at Quinn and said, “Looks as if we’re in for a storm.”

  “They forecast outbreaks of thundery rain by evening,” Quinn said. “We can do with some wet after such a long spell of dry weather.”

  The elm trees threshed in a gust of wind that whipped past the house and went rushing on over the uplands. Then everything was still again — an oppressive stillness in which nothing moved.

  Quinn wondered if the rooks thought night had come or if they knew there was going to be a downpour and had taken refuge. Their lifespan was only a few years but they lived long enough to know the difference between normal dusk and an approaching storm. The feeling in the air would tell them — a clammy pressure as though sky and earth were about to meet, increasing static that made his skin creep.

  Far off to the south a pale light winked twice … and then again. He remembered reading long, long ago that if you counted the number of seconds between the flash and the following thunder you co
uld tell how far away you were from the source of the lightning.

  … Something to do with the speed of sound through the air. I’ve forgotten whether it’s eleven hundred or twelve hundred feet per second. Anyway, I can’t hear any thunder. Maybe the storm’s got to be within a certain range …

  Neil Ford was saying “… No, not to my knowledge. If there had been I’m sure Carole would’ve mentioned it. Perhaps you got the time wrong … well, don’t get irritable. It was only a suggestion.”

  He listened again. Then he said, “If you ask me there isn’t much point in hanging about … O.K. O.K. You do just what you like. I’m not trying to stop you … right … yes, I’ll tell the others … but if she does how are we going to get in touch with you? I can’t see … all right, as you wish … so long. Keep sober.”

  He hung up and stood cracking his knuckles thoughtfully. Then he looked out through the window and said, “Gone very dark all of a sudden, hasn’t it? Start chucking it down any minute, I’d say.”

  Carole asked, “Was that Michael?”

  With a slight raising of his eyebrows, Ford said, “Yes.”

  “What did he want?”

  “Just to say he’ll be delayed. Adele wasn’t on the eight-ten. Probably missed it because her train got in late. Michael thinks she’ll be on the next one and so he’s going to stay in Blandford to save trailing here and back again. It’s due about a quarter to nine.”

  Carole looked at her watch and said, “He’s got fully an hour to wait. If she missed the bus I’d have thought she’d phone. After all, she knew Michael would be meeting her at eight-ten.”

  “Don’t suppose she cares a damn if he has to hang around all night,” Ford said.

  As though not expecting to be taken seriously, he added, “Could be she doesn’t intend to come back at all.”

  Then he turned his head and looked straight at Quinn. For the first time since they had met he spoke to him directly.

  In a biting voice, he asked, “As an outsider what do you think?”

  The sneer on his pink-and-white face left no room for doubt. He meant to be offensive.

  Quinn said, “As an outsider it’s none of my business.”

  “Really? I’d have thought you were in the right kind of job to make it your business.”

  “Then you’d have thought wrong. What do you know about my kind of job, anyway?”

  “Merely that you’re a reporter. Or am I mistaken?”

  Carole said, “Stop it before you go too far … both of you. It isn’t funny.”

  “I’m not amused either,” Quinn said. “And don’t blame me. This isn’t any of my seeking. He’s made his attitude obvious from the moment he set eyes on me. I wish I knew what’s eating him.”

  In an overbearing tone, Ford said, “Oh, nothing personal. But I hope you won’t be offended if I say that Miss Stewart seems to choose most peculiar friends.”

  Quinn said, “And I hope you will be offended if I say that Mrs. Parry seems to go in for even more peculiar relations that she couldn’t possibly have chosen unless all her taste was in her mouth.”

  Carole stepped between them and waved her arms in the style of a referee. “I’m stopping this contest right now. Both of you are disqualified for hitting low.”

  She was trying to sound flippant but her eyes were angry. Quinn knew she was holding herself in with an effort.

  He said, “I didn’t come here to quarrel with anybody. This situation was forced on me … but I’m evidently odd man out so if you wouldn’t mind running me to the nearest bus stop I’ll leave you all —”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind! This is Adele’s house and anyone I bring is treated as Adele’s guest. There’s no question of leaving.”

  She swung round on Ford and asked him sharply, “What’s wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this?”

  He spread out his plump hands and looked at her with bland, innocent eyes. He said, “I detest reporters — that’s all.”

  “Pretty sweeping,” Quinn said. “As people are fond of saying about those of a different religion or a different colour, there’s good and bad alike wherever you go. Have you some special reason for lumping all newspaper men together and hating the lot?”

  “Well, if you must know I had an unfortunate experience with the local Press some time ago — and once was enough.”

  “I’ve got no connection with the local Press. I’m crime correspondent for a national paper. Unless you’re engaged in some kind of criminal activity you’ve nothing to fear from me.

  Ford started to say, “If you’re alleging —”

  Then the sneer left his face and he went on, “You’re being facetious, of course.”

  “Of course,” Quinn said.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “You may be even more glad to hear that I’m on holiday — or supposed to be — for the next couple of weeks. Apart from which, I don’t write a gossip column … and so I’m not interested in tittle-tattle about your family or your friends.”

  Carole said, “Now that we’ve reached an understanding, that will be all.” She glanced from one to the other and shook her head sadly. “If it wouldn’t make you look even more like silly little schoolboys I’d insist on your snaking hands.”

  Quinn said he was sorry if he had behaved badly. Neil Ford mumbled something in the nature of an apology.

  For the time being their instinctive antagonism was pushed into the background. But, as Quinn told himself, it was only for the time being.

  Why Ford resented him was something that only Ford could explain. Perhaps it was true that he’d been badly treated by the local Press. Perhaps it was merely an excuse.

  It made hardly any difference. The friction between them was there. Best thing they could do was keep out of each other’s way.

  For one brief moment he wished he’d never met Carole Stewart. If he had not gone to that party by mistake … What was the fellow’s name? Ah, yes, Hinchcliffe.

  … Damn’ silly thing to do. He was old enough to have more sense. And getting himself plastered was absolutely stupid …

  The door-bell chimed. Carole looked at Ford and said, “I wonder who that can be. Did you hear a car?”

  “No. Certainly can’t be Michael and Adele. It’s too soon.”

  “They wouldn’t ring the bell, anyway. Both of them have a key.”

  She went to the door and opened it and said, “Oh, hallo! Come in. I haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?” Her voice was polite but it was the stilted politeness that women use to conceal dislike.

  Quinn saw a stockily built woman with fluffy hair cut short and hazel eyes that flitted here and there like those of a bird. Her smile exposed a lot of teeth.

  She wrapped it round Quinn when she was introduced to him. In a deep, masculine voice, she said, “How d’you do …”

  Then she asked, “Have we met before?”

  It was an unnecessary question. She expected him to say no, but the query established some kind of tenuous relationship.

  He said, “I don’t think so. This is my first visit here.”

  “Yes, I guessed as much. Never forget a face. Names go in one ear and out the other, but I’ve got a photographic memory for faces. One of those things, you know. Runs in the family … like noses.”

  At that she laughed as though she’d said something vastly amusing although a trifle vulgar. It was a high-pitched laugh in complete contrast to her normal voice.

  She didn’t need much encouragement to go on talking about herself. With her eyes flitting over Quinn’s face as if looking for a place to settle, she said, “Mine was a crazy family. I’ve never forgiven my parents for calling me Ariadne. You can just imagine what I went through at school.”

  With her head tilted back and her eyes almost closed, she asked, “You know who Ariadne was … don’t you?”

  Again she wanted him to say no. Quinn said, “I learned very little Greek mythology, but if I remember correctly she was a
goddess, daughter of Minos, the King of Crete.”

  “My, my!” Her eyes flicked open and fixed themselves on his with the hypnotic stare of a cat. “How about that? You are clever, aren’t you?”

  She looked at Carole and Ford as though displaying some new acquisition. Then she went on rapidly, “Don’t confuse me with the lady of the same name. There’s no royal blood in my family. Father was one George Wilkinson, tea importer of Mincing Lane. Quite a small way of business …”

  With no change of tone, she went running on, “Hope I’m not being a nuisance. Merely walked across to borrow something that Adele promised me. Judging by all the signs and portents I’m going to get a soaking on my way home.”

  “If it rains I’ll run you back,” Carole said.

  “Well, how about that? Aren’t you sweet?” She glanced from Quinn to Ford and back to Quinn. “I do know the nicest people. Where are they, anyway? Michael and Adele, I mean.”

  Neil Ford had remained aloof from the one-sided conversation. Now he interposed, “She missed the bus from Salisbury. Michael’s waiting for the one that gets in at ten to nine.”

  “Oh, really? I’ve never known that happen before. Where has she been?”

  “Wood Lake.”

  “How strange … If she caught her usual train she’d be in plenty of time for the bus.”

  Carole said, “It’s quite possible she missed the train. All we know is that she didn’t arrive at the eight-ten.”

  “Then you’d think she’d have phoned, wouldn’t you? Unless …” Miss Wilkinson’s deep voice dwindled away to nothing.

  Ford asked, “Unless what?”

  With another high-pitched laugh, Ariadne said, “Don’t be short with me, my dear man.”

  “I wasn’t being short with you. But, if you know of any reason why Adele wasn’t on her usual bus, for heaven’s sake don’t make a mystery out of it.”

  “Reason?” Miss Wilkinson tilted back her head and looked at him through half-shut eyes. “How would I know? I wasn’t even aware that she’d gone to Wood Lake.”

  “Now you’re being evasive.”

  “Don’t be absurd! It could be any one of a dozen reasons. Perhaps she and Michael squabbled. Perhaps she thinks it might be a good idea to let him do without her for a change.”