Which one was it? Blanche, the fat one—' He seemed unaware of Blanche's continued presence, standing beside Ketty. 'I dived off in search of you—' He looked towards Cherry, standing in her once-gay purple poncho, which now had the air of a funeral garment.
'It's all rocks out there, and little bays and inlets at low tide. You do lose sight of people.'
'Yes, I lost sight of you altogether', put in Cherry rather plaintively. 'Where were you? Where did you go?'
Julian ignored her. Then his calm air of authority suddenly broke and he too groaned: 'Oh my God, the poor girl, why did we swim at all? Why didn't I stop you?'
It was Tobs who was in the worst state of all: for it was Tobs who had found Filly's body floating on the surface of the sea, the face half-covered with water; the waves were propelling it inexorably towards the shore.
One of the ambulance men said, before Filly's body was rushed away to hospital, still in the vain hope of resuscitating it: 'It is very dangerous swimming out at the point at low tide. Someone was drowned here I believe a couple of years ago. Also from London.' There was a very faint note of reproach in his voice.
After that no one had much to say. Breaking the news to the world in general and Filly's family in particular was obviously the next painful task to be faced. And breaking the news to the world at any rate - wasn't that at least in part the concern of Nat Fitzwilliam as Festival Director? It was also the concern of the Festival Chairman. Major Cartwright departed in his Bentley to inform such bodies as his Festival Board, with a view to preparing a statement on the whole distressing episode.
'As Chairman, it was my duty to come to this festivity,' he commented gruffly to no one in particular. His gruffness appeared to hide some strong emotion, presumably disapproval of the whole Bacchanalian nature of the picnic. In the meantime, what of the Festival Director?
Nat Fitzwilliam - oddly enough, no one had thought of him in the course of the crisis. He had last been seen, still in his scarf and anorak, heading for the Watchtower Theatre where he had intended to view the shore from on high and seek further inspiration ... first of all, someone had to tell him.
Guthrie Carlyle, as representative of Megalith, volunteered for this disagreeable duty. Jemima Shore, in exchange, agreed to shoulder the burden of breaking to Cy Fredericks, head of Megalith Television, the news of the tragedy which had just struck at his Larminster Festival programme. Cy Fredericks was certainly the right person to handle the whole public mourning which would follow the lamentable decease not only of Filumena Lennox, but of 'Country Kate'.
But it rapidly transpired that Guthrie Carlyle had the best of the bargain. There was the noise of another motor-bike arriving, and Nat Fitzwilliam appeared in person at the head of the beach.
'I passed an ambulance,' he began. 'And then you were all standing there on the beach for so long after the swimming stopped. I saw you. I was watching you all the time. From the top of the theatre.' Jemima suddenly noticed the large pair of binoculars slung round his neck, half-hidden by his scarf.
The person who hated Christabel also noticed the binoculars. The person thought it would be a pity if it turned out that Nat Fitzwilliam had witnessed certain things through those binoculars. The person was really very sorry indeed about the death of Filumena Lennox, which had been a stupid mistake, and just showed the foolishness of giving way to impulse after so long. The person thought: you could certainly lay that death at the door of Christabel; if she had not come back to Larminster in the first place, none of this would have happened.
8
Late at Night
'What are you doing, flapping round here?' The question was directed at Nicola Wain - with no pretence of grace - by Christabel Cartwright. Indeed, the old woman did have something of the air of a bird, if not a vulture or a
'It's all rocks out there, and little bays and inlets at low tide. You do lose sight of people.'
'Yes, I lost sight of you altogether', put in Cherry rather plaintively. 'Where were you? Where did you go?'
Julian ignored her. Then his calm air of authority suddenly broke and he too groaned: 'Oh my God, the poor girl, why did we swim at all? Why didn't I stop you?'
It was Tobs who was in the worst state of all: for it was Tobs who had found Filly's body floating on the surface of the sea, the face half-covered with water; the waves were propelling it inexorably towards the shore.
One of the ambulance men said, before Filly's body was rushed away to hospital, still in the vain hope of resuscitating it: 'It is very dangerous swimming out at the point at low tide. Someone was drowned here I believe a couple of years ago. Also from London.' There was a very faint note of reproach in his voice.
After that no one had much to say. Breaking the news to the world in general and Filly's family in particular was obviously the next painful task to be faced. And breaking the news to the world at any rate - wasn't that at least in part the concern of Nat Fitzwilliam as Festival Director? It was also the concern of the Festival Chairman. Major Cartwright departed in his Bentley to inform such bodies as his Festival Board, with a view to preparing a statement on the whole distressing episode.
'As Chairman, it was my duty to come to this festivity,' he commented gruffly to no one in particular. His gruffness appeared to hide some strong emotion, presumably disapproval of the whole Bacchanalian nature of the picnic. In the meantime, what of the Festival Director?
Nat Fitzwilliam - oddly enough, no one had thought of him in the course of the crisis. He had last been seen, still in his scarf and anorak, heading for the Watchtower Theatre where he had intended to view the shore from on high and seek further inspiration ... first of all, someone had to tell him.
Guthrie Carlyle, as representative of Megalith, volunteered for this disagreeable duty. Jemima Shore, in exchange, agreed to shoulder the burden of breaking to Cy Fredericks, head of Megalith Television, the news of the tragedy which had just struck at his Larminster Festival programme. Cy Fredericks was certainly the right person to handle the whole public mourning which would follow the lamentable decease not only of Filumena Lennox, but of 'Country Kate'.
But it rapidly transpired that Guthrie Carlyle had the best of the bargain. There was the noise of another motor-bike arriving, and Nat Fitzwilliam appeared in person at the head of the beach.
'I passed an ambulance,' he began. 'And then you were all standing there on the beach for so long after the swimming stopped. I saw you. I was watching you all the time. From the top of the theatre.' Jemima suddenly noticed the large pair of binoculars slung round his neck, half-hidden by his scarf.
The person who hated Christabel also noticed the binoculars. The person thought it would be a pity if it turned out that Nat Fitzwilliam had witnessed certain things through those binoculars. The person was really very sorry indeed about the death of Filumena Lennox, which had been a stupid mistake, and just showed the foolishness of giving way to impulse after so long. The person thought: you could certainly lay that death at the door of Christabel; if she had not come back to Larminster in the first place, none of this would have happened.
8
Late at Night
'What are you doing, flapping round here?' The question was directed at Nicola Wain - with no pretence of grace - by Christabel Cartwright. Indeed, the old woman did have something of the air of a bird, if not a vulture or a
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