Latter End by Patricia Wentworth

with ‘And who told you a dirty lie like that, Mr. Jimmy?’ ”
    Antony whistled.
    “What happened after that? By the way, how do you know all this?”
    “I was there. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much. Jimmy told Hodson there had been a misunderstanding, and that the cottage was his for as long as he wanted it. Then he went home and blew right up. I got out of the way, but not before I heard him tell Lois that she must leave the management of the place to him. I hope it will do her good.”
    “A pious hope can do no harm,” said Antony drily. “When did all this happen?”
    “Just before I came up. Antony, it’s Minnie I’m miserable about. I think Ellie will be all right if we can get her through the next six months. Jimmy is going to give her an allowance, and if she can get a room at Brighton she’ll be able to see Ronnie every day, and she won’t have all this housework which is wearing her out. I think she’ll be all right—I’ve got to think she will, or I shall blow right up. But Minnie—she’s proud, you know, though she’s so gentle. She won’t take money from Jimmy—I believe she’d rather die. That’s what frightens me—she hasn’t got anything to live for. And she looks desperate—Jimmy’s awfully unhappy about it. The only person who can do anything is Lois. I suppose you couldn’t say something?”
    Antony frowned at the long, wet road running on into the mist.
    “I did.”
    “Any good?”
    “I thought so at the time. At least I thought there was a possibility. Now I don’t. The fact is, Minnie has got on Lois’ nerves, and when that happens it’s the end—no good arguing about it. There’ll be a clean sweep, and we’ll all start fresh. I don’t suppose Latter End will see very much of any of us after this.”
    Julia was silent for a long time. Then she said,
    “It’s rather an—amputation, isn’t it? I oughtn’t to feel it, because I haven’t been down there so much, but it hurts all right. It’s stupid of me, but one of the things I mind most about is Mummie’s picture hanging there on the wall behind that woman’s chair. It hurts like hell.”
    “Jimmy would give you the portrait if you asked him for it.”
    The dark colour rushed into her face.
    “I couldn’t do that! It would be like turning Mummie out— for her!”
    They drove in silence for a while, the mist closing them in. It was like being together in a room with white walls, a room so small that they could not move away from one another. He was aware of her thoughts—the colour and rhythm of them coming up out of warm depths. What Julia was aware of she kept to herself. Presently she said,
    “I wish we were going anywhere else.”
    He gave her a light answer.
    “Wishes are cheap. Where would you like to go?”
    “To Latter End ten years ago.”
    Antony laughed.
    “I’ve just left school, and you and Ellie are fourteen.”
    “And there isn’t any Lois. It would be heaven, wouldn’t it?” Then, with sudden energy, “Do you know what she has done now? She’s got that odious Gladys Marsh in the house.”
    “What’s happened to Joe?”
    “Gone down to a sister in Devonshire. There’s supposed to be some idea of his going into his brother-in-law’s business. The fact is, he’s up against it in the village—everyone’s crying shame on him about his mother. And Gladys hates Rayle—they’d like to get out. The sooner the better, I should say. But meanwhile there’s Gladys at Latter End, putting onthe most awful side you ever saw.”
    “What is she supposed to be doing there?”
    “Odds and ends of sewing, maiding Lois—and whether she’s supposed to or not, she listens at doors. Ellie did dig her toes in and say she must do her own room, but there was some head-tossing over it—‘I don’t know, I’m sure. Housework is so bad for the hands, and not at all what I’m accustomed to.’ ” Julia gave an angry laugh. “I told Ellie I’d scream the house down if she