passed the Dobsons’ room. When Marjorie went anywhere without Ambrose, even for a few hours, she faced the third degree when she returned. Shock and fatigue meant her guard was down or she would never have made the mistake of telling him about Maria’s food poisoning. The sound of his discontented badgering carried right down the landing and promised to be protracted.
‘Blasted scandal! God knows what we’ve eaten since we’ve been here. Filthy Continental muck. It’s a miracle nobody’s died. Well, that settles it, I’ll certainly sue. You can’t trust foreigners to do anything properly. It’s your own fault, Marjorie. I take no responsibility for this at all. We should have gone to Bournemouth. It would serve you right if my heart packed up right now and you had to spend the rest of your life managing on your own. See how you’d like that!’
Lying side by side in their concrete cots, Jack remained silent, deep in thought, while Corrie prattled, unable to wind down.
‘Poor Maria. What a ghastly thing to happen and all because of a bad egg. Thank goodness she’s going to be all right. She really would have jumped off those steps if we hadn’t grabbed her, you know. I understand the basic facts about salmonella, obviously, but I never realized it could affect you like that. It was almost as if she were having a terrifying hallucination.’
‘Diana was impressive,’ said Jack.
‘Yes she was,’ conceded Corrie, grudgingly. ‘Who knows, there may be a very deep, compassionate person under that shallow, mercenary exterior – but I wouldn’t put money on it.’ She sighed. ‘And did you see how distraught the poor old professor was when he thought it was Diana who was hurt. He obviously adores her. Sad really because he must know she only married him for his money.’
‘Mmm. You don’t think he overdid the concern a bit?’
‘Certainly not! Some men can’t help showing their feelings. They don’t all have an upper lip with scaffolding round it like you.’
Corrie glanced sideways at Jack. She recognized that vacant look – he wasn’t listening. His detective’s mind was a beehive of buzzing thoughts that flew too quickly for him to catch them. She gossiped a tad louder to regain his attention.
‘What about Sky, though? Who’d have thought she’d take control like that? For all we know, she might well have saved Maria’s life. I guess she must have done a first aid course or something. It just goes to show you shouldn’t judge people by appearances.’
‘Mmm,’ said Jack again. ‘Corrie, what did you see when you were up in the ruined monastery?’
She looked suspicious. ‘Why? You’re not up to something, are you?’
‘’Course not. I’m on honeymoon. I was just curious about those lights we saw.’
‘There wasn’t much to see, really. It’s just a load of crumbling walls. The abbey church still has some of the roof on it – they keep St Sophia’s precious relics in a kind of vestry down the sheltered end. There’s a fancy chair, Byzantine allegedly. The women kept insisting St Sophia, herself, sat on it.’
‘How do you know she didn’t?’
‘Well, it’s on castors with an adjustable back rest for a start. I don’t recall anyone mentioning she was a typist before she became a saint. Oh yes, there was a medieval winch contraption on the east wall overlooking the sea – probably where the old refectory used to be. I imagine the monks used to winch up their food from boats to save running up and down all those steps.’
‘Was there anywhere you could hide something dodgy?’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh, I dunno – portable laboratory equipment, chemicals, stuff like that.’
‘Why? You don’t think somebody’s making a bomb up there, do you?’ Corrie sat up, her face suddenly illuminated. ‘Actually, Jack, it would make a brilliant hiding place for stolen goods.’
She hopped out of bed and sat on the end of his.
He groaned. ‘Corrie, you’re doing
‘Blasted scandal! God knows what we’ve eaten since we’ve been here. Filthy Continental muck. It’s a miracle nobody’s died. Well, that settles it, I’ll certainly sue. You can’t trust foreigners to do anything properly. It’s your own fault, Marjorie. I take no responsibility for this at all. We should have gone to Bournemouth. It would serve you right if my heart packed up right now and you had to spend the rest of your life managing on your own. See how you’d like that!’
Lying side by side in their concrete cots, Jack remained silent, deep in thought, while Corrie prattled, unable to wind down.
‘Poor Maria. What a ghastly thing to happen and all because of a bad egg. Thank goodness she’s going to be all right. She really would have jumped off those steps if we hadn’t grabbed her, you know. I understand the basic facts about salmonella, obviously, but I never realized it could affect you like that. It was almost as if she were having a terrifying hallucination.’
‘Diana was impressive,’ said Jack.
‘Yes she was,’ conceded Corrie, grudgingly. ‘Who knows, there may be a very deep, compassionate person under that shallow, mercenary exterior – but I wouldn’t put money on it.’ She sighed. ‘And did you see how distraught the poor old professor was when he thought it was Diana who was hurt. He obviously adores her. Sad really because he must know she only married him for his money.’
‘Mmm. You don’t think he overdid the concern a bit?’
‘Certainly not! Some men can’t help showing their feelings. They don’t all have an upper lip with scaffolding round it like you.’
Corrie glanced sideways at Jack. She recognized that vacant look – he wasn’t listening. His detective’s mind was a beehive of buzzing thoughts that flew too quickly for him to catch them. She gossiped a tad louder to regain his attention.
‘What about Sky, though? Who’d have thought she’d take control like that? For all we know, she might well have saved Maria’s life. I guess she must have done a first aid course or something. It just goes to show you shouldn’t judge people by appearances.’
‘Mmm,’ said Jack again. ‘Corrie, what did you see when you were up in the ruined monastery?’
She looked suspicious. ‘Why? You’re not up to something, are you?’
‘’Course not. I’m on honeymoon. I was just curious about those lights we saw.’
‘There wasn’t much to see, really. It’s just a load of crumbling walls. The abbey church still has some of the roof on it – they keep St Sophia’s precious relics in a kind of vestry down the sheltered end. There’s a fancy chair, Byzantine allegedly. The women kept insisting St Sophia, herself, sat on it.’
‘How do you know she didn’t?’
‘Well, it’s on castors with an adjustable back rest for a start. I don’t recall anyone mentioning she was a typist before she became a saint. Oh yes, there was a medieval winch contraption on the east wall overlooking the sea – probably where the old refectory used to be. I imagine the monks used to winch up their food from boats to save running up and down all those steps.’
‘Was there anywhere you could hide something dodgy?’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh, I dunno – portable laboratory equipment, chemicals, stuff like that.’
‘Why? You don’t think somebody’s making a bomb up there, do you?’ Corrie sat up, her face suddenly illuminated. ‘Actually, Jack, it would make a brilliant hiding place for stolen goods.’
She hopped out of bed and sat on the end of his.
He groaned. ‘Corrie, you’re doing
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