An Invisible Murder by Joyce Cato Page B

bother with the police once. Something about not being properly insured on his motorbike. If word got back to her dad she’d be for it.
    ‘Damn coppers,’ Elsie barked. ‘They hadn’t better go near my old mum. Upsetting her and all.’
    Jenny was surprised to hear that Elsie’s mother still lived. She’d assumed that Elsie lived in at the castle, but perhaps she went home every night.
    ‘Don’t worry. All that’s old news, Elsie dear. Why would the police want to know about it?’ Gayle said, making the cook’s ears perk up.
    ‘What old news?’ she asked, with a carefully general smile.Gayle, however, looked promptly disconcerted. She darted an apologetic glance to Elsie, who was showing definite signs of unease.
    ‘Oh, nothing. Nothing really,’ Gayle murmured lamely.
    Jenny let the embarrassed silence deliberately drag. She glanced at Elsie who was staring into her cup of tea, then at Janice, who looked away quickly.
    ‘Oh, well, I don’t suppose it matters now,’ Elsie finally said gruffly, the silence stretching her nerves. ‘Me old mum never married me dad. Whoever he was,’ Elsie added bitterly, lifting her chin defiantly.
    Jenny met her gaze without expression. Although illegitimacy meant nothing nowadays, she supposed that when Elsie was born, her mother would have been branded a scarlet woman. And even nowadays, in villages full of mostly older folk, she supposed something of a slur still attached itself to unmarried mothers.
    ‘No, Elsie, I shouldn’t think it matters a bit,’ Jenny said kindly. ‘You want some more kidneys? I fried some extra.’
    For a second, the old kitchen maid’s eyes swam, and Jenny realized, with a pang, that she’d been expecting some kind of cruel put down. Being born illegitimate had obviously been a burden that had haunted her all her life. It was all such a shame since nobody would give it a second thought nowadays.
    Elsie, in fact, lived in unnecessary dread of the fact that their nibs might find out about it, and give her the sack. Even the old cook had always been a little scornful about it. That this new cook was so obviously different caught her off guard. She felt her stomach tremble in the way that it always did when she felt herself getting mushy, and she sniffed. Loudly.
    ‘All right. Wouldn’t say no,’ she agreed, more harshly thanshe’d meant. It came out sounding deeply ungrateful. Jenny, however, didn’t seem to notice. She returned with the frying pan and heaped out some kidneys onto Elsie’s plate.
    Elsie began to eat with evident pleasure.
    But at the back of her eyes lurked a look of fear that pained Jenny for the rest of the day.
     
    Malcolm Powell-Brooks hesitated at the door to the breakfast-room . His palms felt just slightly damp. Then he knocked briskly, and tensed. He hated dealing directly with Lady Vee. She was just so damned formidable.
    Her ladyship boomed at him to come in, and he obeyed, noting with relief that they had finished eating. Roberta glanced up and began to glow at the unexpected treat of seeing him so soon.
    Lord Avonsleigh glanced at his granddaughter’s shining eyes, and felt his lips twitch.
    ‘Er, good morning, my lord, my lady,’ he turned to each in turn, glanced at Roberta, wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, and turned back to his lordship. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and wondered where to begin.
    George smiled and rose. ‘Sit down, dear fellow. What can we do for you?’
    Lady Vee watched the art tutor seat himself and wished she was twenty years younger. She’d liked to flirt when she was a girl, and Mr Powell-Brooks was just the kind she went for. She couldn’t blame Roberta for mooning over him like a lovesick calf. It was good for a girl to do so.
    ‘I was wondering, that is, I thought I should come and offer my services as a temporary tutor that is, until, well, someone is sent to replace Miss Simmons. I have a fairly good working knowledge of literature,’ Malcolm plunged