very much. I don’t think anyone did, except Buster. But then I don’t think my father wanted to be liked. Worshipped was good enough for him.’
‘Your mother must have liked him,’ he suggested.
‘Oh, I don’t think so. Swept off her feet by him, more like.’ She looked at him from under her eyelids. ‘He wasn’t a nice man, you know. He was mean and spiteful. He liked tormentingpeople and playing them off against each other. He used to do it with Mummy and me, and with Mummy and Dodo—’
‘Dodo?’
‘That was Mrs Keaton – Doreen Keaton. I called her Dodo. She was our cook-housekeeper when I was little.’
‘You were – what – three years old when the Keatons came to work for your parents?’
She nodded. ‘We’d just moved into the Holland Park house. It’s the first home I remember – we were in a flat before, in Kensington. My grandfather died and left everything to Mummy, including the house. She was the only child, and my grandparents were only-children too, so I was very short of relatives. And then Mummy died when I was only nine.’
‘That’s very sad. I’m so sorry.’
She looked at him as if to see whether he really was, and then nodded, accepting his interest. ‘I loved her so much, and that’s when I really started to hate my father. Because he drove her to it, you know.’
‘No, I don’t know. What did she die of?’
‘It was an overdose of sleeping pills. Well, of course, she wouldn’t have had any sleeping pills if my father hadn’t been such a beast to her. They brought it in as an accident at the inquest, but I believe – I still believe – it was suicide. And Dodo did as well.’
‘Did she say so to you?’
‘Not in so many words, but she told me that it wasn’t an accident. And on her deathbed she said to me that “things were not as they seemed”. Those were her words.’
‘Did she look after you when your mother died?’
‘Yes, she was very good to me. I don’t know how I would have coped if she hadn’t been there. But she died less than a year after Mummy. It wasn’t really surprising, she was such a pale, wispy sort of creature, always full of aches and pains – though she never complained. She just soldiered on, cooking and cleaning and looking after me. Do you know, I have no memory of her laughing? Smiling, yes, but not laughing. Isn’t that sad?’
‘What did she die of?’
‘Gastroenteritis. It just got worse and worse over a couple of days, and then they took her into hospital, but it was too late.Nowadays I suppose they would have been able to save her. It amazes me to think how far medical science has advanced in just thirty years.’
‘You must have missed her very much. Who looked after you then?’
‘Oh, well, after that my father wanted to get rid of me, of course – I would have got in the way of his career – so he sent me off to boarding school. Do you really want to hear all this? It hasn’t anything to do with this awful business,’ she said abruptly.
‘If you don’t mind,’ he said. ‘It helps if I have the whole picture. Sometimes something can have a completely different meaning if you can put it in context.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. Where was I?’
‘You went to boarding school. Who looked after you in the holidays – or did you spend them at school too?’
‘Oh no, I came home in the holidays. Buster looked after me. He didn’t trot round after my father quite as much in those days.’
‘Did you like him?’
‘Buster? Oh yes, he was all right. He was very kind to me, really. I always remember he used to make me Shrewsbury biscuits, because I’d once said I liked them. I’d got them mixed up with Garibaldis, and every school hols he’d have a batch of them ready for me when I got home, so I had to eat them, even though I didn’t like them much, rather than hurt his feelings.’
She smiled, and Slider smiled back. ‘Your father didn’t marry again?’
‘No. To tell you the truth, I
‘Your mother must have liked him,’ he suggested.
‘Oh, I don’t think so. Swept off her feet by him, more like.’ She looked at him from under her eyelids. ‘He wasn’t a nice man, you know. He was mean and spiteful. He liked tormentingpeople and playing them off against each other. He used to do it with Mummy and me, and with Mummy and Dodo—’
‘Dodo?’
‘That was Mrs Keaton – Doreen Keaton. I called her Dodo. She was our cook-housekeeper when I was little.’
‘You were – what – three years old when the Keatons came to work for your parents?’
She nodded. ‘We’d just moved into the Holland Park house. It’s the first home I remember – we were in a flat before, in Kensington. My grandfather died and left everything to Mummy, including the house. She was the only child, and my grandparents were only-children too, so I was very short of relatives. And then Mummy died when I was only nine.’
‘That’s very sad. I’m so sorry.’
She looked at him as if to see whether he really was, and then nodded, accepting his interest. ‘I loved her so much, and that’s when I really started to hate my father. Because he drove her to it, you know.’
‘No, I don’t know. What did she die of?’
‘It was an overdose of sleeping pills. Well, of course, she wouldn’t have had any sleeping pills if my father hadn’t been such a beast to her. They brought it in as an accident at the inquest, but I believe – I still believe – it was suicide. And Dodo did as well.’
‘Did she say so to you?’
‘Not in so many words, but she told me that it wasn’t an accident. And on her deathbed she said to me that “things were not as they seemed”. Those were her words.’
‘Did she look after you when your mother died?’
‘Yes, she was very good to me. I don’t know how I would have coped if she hadn’t been there. But she died less than a year after Mummy. It wasn’t really surprising, she was such a pale, wispy sort of creature, always full of aches and pains – though she never complained. She just soldiered on, cooking and cleaning and looking after me. Do you know, I have no memory of her laughing? Smiling, yes, but not laughing. Isn’t that sad?’
‘What did she die of?’
‘Gastroenteritis. It just got worse and worse over a couple of days, and then they took her into hospital, but it was too late.Nowadays I suppose they would have been able to save her. It amazes me to think how far medical science has advanced in just thirty years.’
‘You must have missed her very much. Who looked after you then?’
‘Oh, well, after that my father wanted to get rid of me, of course – I would have got in the way of his career – so he sent me off to boarding school. Do you really want to hear all this? It hasn’t anything to do with this awful business,’ she said abruptly.
‘If you don’t mind,’ he said. ‘It helps if I have the whole picture. Sometimes something can have a completely different meaning if you can put it in context.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. Where was I?’
‘You went to boarding school. Who looked after you in the holidays – or did you spend them at school too?’
‘Oh no, I came home in the holidays. Buster looked after me. He didn’t trot round after my father quite as much in those days.’
‘Did you like him?’
‘Buster? Oh yes, he was all right. He was very kind to me, really. I always remember he used to make me Shrewsbury biscuits, because I’d once said I liked them. I’d got them mixed up with Garibaldis, and every school hols he’d have a batch of them ready for me when I got home, so I had to eat them, even though I didn’t like them much, rather than hurt his feelings.’
She smiled, and Slider smiled back. ‘Your father didn’t marry again?’
‘No. To tell you the truth, I
Similar Books
