man, who knows them like
the back of his hand, to evade a bunch of people who are stumbling
blindly about looking for him. That is all there is to Albert Askrigg. So don’t try
frightening me with tales of ghosts and demons and vast expanses of
wild, gorse-strewn moor when we both know the truth to be something
a trifle more mundane.’
All the way back to Dewhurst Mansion, Pamela
sat in the back seat with Theo, while Fred drove. Theo had wrapped
Pamela in his warm overcoat and she now snuggled against him,
half-asleep, head on his chest, he with his arm around her. How she
had longed for such intimate contact with him, and how it was
spoilt by not being real! He was here to comfort her because she
had been traumatized, not because he loved her and wanted to take
her in his strong arms and hold her to him, to protect her from
life’s dangers and unpredictability and uncertainty.
Ah, well, at least she could pretend for the
time being. She could pretend that they were on their way home from
an uneventful trip in the country, with just the two of them. Or-
the thought made her smile- she could pretend that they had a
little girl like Jennie, who was perhaps asleep on the seat beside
them, curled up beneath a coat, features rendered angelic by
slumber. If only she could simply lift her head and see love in
Theo’s eyes; if only he would kiss her now and take her to bed,
where she would surrender to him, and he would promise to love and
protect her, for ever and always.
With such thoughts creating a membrane-like
wall, protecting and insulating her essential being, she found that
she was able to plunge into a deep, untroubled slumber, unsullied
and untouched by any demons.
Pamela awoke to the realization that she was
totally, unreservedly in love with Theo. She had known this before
but her feelings had taken on a more mature timbre. She found that
she was able to read him better, to see past his exterior.
But still his careful neutrality baffled her.
What did it mean? That he didn’t care for her? He had never said
anything to make her believe that he loved her or that he shared
her feelings in any way. And yet from the beginning he had been
there for her, at least physically.
What did this mean? What did this say about
their relationship, if you could call it that? True, he had kissed
her in front of everyone, but he certainly hadn’t declared his love
for her or asked her to marry him. Would he ever ask to her marry
him? Could he?
At one time her reply would have been an
unequivocal “No,” but now she wasn’t quite so sure. He seemed
always to be watching her and waiting for something to happen. But
what? For her to grow up? To become a “real” woman? What did he see
in her? What did he want her to be?
Part of her reasoned that a rich man would
never even think of marrying one of his maids, though he might toy
with the idea from time to time, but something, some instinct, told
her that perhaps this might not be true of Theo.
She went downstairs to find
the house in an uproar. Fred was there with his wife and child, and
there were policemen; what had Theo called them? Oh, yes, CID , whatever that stood for. Several
pairs of eyes looked at her guardedly, some speculative, some
doubtful, some hopeful, some concealing inner-anxiety and
impatience. Theo, too, watched her, but his look was wholly
different from all the others. On the surface of it there was his
habitual neutrality, but underneath Pamela could tell, could feel that he was
somehow willing her
to be strong.
As she reached the landing, the Chief
Inspector, a red-haired giant of a man with a walrus moustache
named Chief Inspector Robert Matthews, whom she had spoken to the
previous evening, rose from his chair and approached her.
‘Miss Dee,’ he said deferentially, ‘how are
you feeling this morning?’
Pamela noticed at once that
the man appeared very tired: there were creases around his eyes
that she knew were caused by lack of
the back of his hand, to evade a bunch of people who are stumbling
blindly about looking for him. That is all there is to Albert Askrigg. So don’t try
frightening me with tales of ghosts and demons and vast expanses of
wild, gorse-strewn moor when we both know the truth to be something
a trifle more mundane.’
All the way back to Dewhurst Mansion, Pamela
sat in the back seat with Theo, while Fred drove. Theo had wrapped
Pamela in his warm overcoat and she now snuggled against him,
half-asleep, head on his chest, he with his arm around her. How she
had longed for such intimate contact with him, and how it was
spoilt by not being real! He was here to comfort her because she
had been traumatized, not because he loved her and wanted to take
her in his strong arms and hold her to him, to protect her from
life’s dangers and unpredictability and uncertainty.
Ah, well, at least she could pretend for the
time being. She could pretend that they were on their way home from
an uneventful trip in the country, with just the two of them. Or-
the thought made her smile- she could pretend that they had a
little girl like Jennie, who was perhaps asleep on the seat beside
them, curled up beneath a coat, features rendered angelic by
slumber. If only she could simply lift her head and see love in
Theo’s eyes; if only he would kiss her now and take her to bed,
where she would surrender to him, and he would promise to love and
protect her, for ever and always.
With such thoughts creating a membrane-like
wall, protecting and insulating her essential being, she found that
she was able to plunge into a deep, untroubled slumber, unsullied
and untouched by any demons.
Pamela awoke to the realization that she was
totally, unreservedly in love with Theo. She had known this before
but her feelings had taken on a more mature timbre. She found that
she was able to read him better, to see past his exterior.
But still his careful neutrality baffled her.
What did it mean? That he didn’t care for her? He had never said
anything to make her believe that he loved her or that he shared
her feelings in any way. And yet from the beginning he had been
there for her, at least physically.
What did this mean? What did this say about
their relationship, if you could call it that? True, he had kissed
her in front of everyone, but he certainly hadn’t declared his love
for her or asked her to marry him. Would he ever ask to her marry
him? Could he?
At one time her reply would have been an
unequivocal “No,” but now she wasn’t quite so sure. He seemed
always to be watching her and waiting for something to happen. But
what? For her to grow up? To become a “real” woman? What did he see
in her? What did he want her to be?
Part of her reasoned that a rich man would
never even think of marrying one of his maids, though he might toy
with the idea from time to time, but something, some instinct, told
her that perhaps this might not be true of Theo.
She went downstairs to find
the house in an uproar. Fred was there with his wife and child, and
there were policemen; what had Theo called them? Oh, yes, CID , whatever that stood for. Several
pairs of eyes looked at her guardedly, some speculative, some
doubtful, some hopeful, some concealing inner-anxiety and
impatience. Theo, too, watched her, but his look was wholly
different from all the others. On the surface of it there was his
habitual neutrality, but underneath Pamela could tell, could feel that he was
somehow willing her
to be strong.
As she reached the landing, the Chief
Inspector, a red-haired giant of a man with a walrus moustache
named Chief Inspector Robert Matthews, whom she had spoken to the
previous evening, rose from his chair and approached her.
‘Miss Dee,’ he said deferentially, ‘how are
you feeling this morning?’
Pamela noticed at once that
the man appeared very tired: there were creases around his eyes
that she knew were caused by lack of
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