matter of fact we are. Should we know you?’
Mrs Dunkley-Brown, beside him, cast a sharp eye over the newcomers. She was probably twenty years younger than her husband, with black, shoulder-length hair. She must have enlivened civic receptions in Bradford on Avon.
‘No, we’re visitors here,’ said Ada. ‘Ada Shaftsbury and -what do you call yourself, petal?’
‘Rose.’
‘She’s Rose. Our driver pointed you out.’
‘So you drove here?’ said Dunkley-Brown, simply being civil with these people who may have appeared odd, but who had earned his approval for reminding his drinking companions that he had once been the top dog in Bradford on Avon.
‘Not all the way,’ said Ada. ‘We took the train from Bath. We don’t own a handsome car like yours.’
‘You’ve seen my Bentley, have you?’
Someone in the party made some aside and the women -Mrs Dunkley-Brown excepted - giggled behind their hands.
‘It’s a motor you’d notice anywhere, a gorgeous runabout like that,’ Ada said, unfazed. ‘Specially with the figurehead.’
‘The fish. You know about the fish?’
‘The gudgeon of Bradford.’
‘You are well-informed. Look, why don’t you ladies join us? We’re just having a few drinks with our friends here. What will you have?’
‘A few private words will do. We didn’t come to crash your party.’
‘ Private words?’ said Dunkley-Brown.
‘It’s important,’ said Ada.
He became defensive. ‘But I’ve never met you before.’
Mrs Dunkley-Brown said, ‘Just who are you?’
‘I said - Ada Shaftsbury. We’d also like a word with you in a moment.’
Rose decided to soften the approach. Ada’s tone was becoming abrasive. ‘It’s for my sake, actually. It’s true you haven’t met Ada before, but you may recognise me.’
The Dunkley-Browns looked at her fully and she was certain there was a moment of recognition. To her astonishment the husband said immediately in a hard, clipped tone, 77
‘No, my dear. Never once clapped eyes on you. Obviously you’re mistaken.’
Ada, braced for battle, said, ‘Mistaken about your motor, are we?’
‘Anyone could have told you about my car …’ Dunkley-Brown started to say. Then he interrupted himself and said, ‘All right, you’re obviously mistaken, but for the sake of some peace, I’ll talk to you outside. Fair enough?’
‘Do you want me to come, Ned?’ his wife asked.
Ada spoke up as if the offer were addressed to her. ‘Thanks, but we’d rather talk to you later.’
She said, ‘You sound like the police. What are we supposed to have done? Robbed a bank?’
‘Gordon Bennett, we’re nothing to do with the police,’ said Ada, speaking from the heart.
Dunkley-Brown stood up. ‘Let’s sort this out, whatever it is. I’ll step outside with you, but I’m not having my wife’s evening disturbed.’
Ada led the way and they stood in the sparse evening light in the Market Place while Rose explained the connection. She set out the facts without guile, admitting that she had her information second-hand from an elderly woman, fully expecting her frankness to be matched by Dunkley-Brown’s. He heard it all in silence, his eyes giving no hint of involvement.
Finally Rose asked him, ‘Well, was it your car she saw? Did you bring me to the Hinton Clinic that evening?’
Dunkley-Brown overrode the last word. ‘Absolutely not. You’re mistaken. I was nowhere near Bath last Monday night and neither was my car. We spent the evening in Westbury. I can’t help you.’
Ada couldn’t contain herself. ‘But the car was seen, a big white car with a fish on the bonnet. How many cars like that are there in these parts? Have you ever seen another one?’
He would not yield. ‘There’s no reason why someone else shouldn’t have one.’
‘The driver was a bald bloke.’
Ada spoke this as a statement of fact without regard to any sensitivity Dunkley-Brown may have had about his appearance. He didn’t care for it at
Mrs Dunkley-Brown, beside him, cast a sharp eye over the newcomers. She was probably twenty years younger than her husband, with black, shoulder-length hair. She must have enlivened civic receptions in Bradford on Avon.
‘No, we’re visitors here,’ said Ada. ‘Ada Shaftsbury and -what do you call yourself, petal?’
‘Rose.’
‘She’s Rose. Our driver pointed you out.’
‘So you drove here?’ said Dunkley-Brown, simply being civil with these people who may have appeared odd, but who had earned his approval for reminding his drinking companions that he had once been the top dog in Bradford on Avon.
‘Not all the way,’ said Ada. ‘We took the train from Bath. We don’t own a handsome car like yours.’
‘You’ve seen my Bentley, have you?’
Someone in the party made some aside and the women -Mrs Dunkley-Brown excepted - giggled behind their hands.
‘It’s a motor you’d notice anywhere, a gorgeous runabout like that,’ Ada said, unfazed. ‘Specially with the figurehead.’
‘The fish. You know about the fish?’
‘The gudgeon of Bradford.’
‘You are well-informed. Look, why don’t you ladies join us? We’re just having a few drinks with our friends here. What will you have?’
‘A few private words will do. We didn’t come to crash your party.’
‘ Private words?’ said Dunkley-Brown.
‘It’s important,’ said Ada.
He became defensive. ‘But I’ve never met you before.’
Mrs Dunkley-Brown said, ‘Just who are you?’
‘I said - Ada Shaftsbury. We’d also like a word with you in a moment.’
Rose decided to soften the approach. Ada’s tone was becoming abrasive. ‘It’s for my sake, actually. It’s true you haven’t met Ada before, but you may recognise me.’
The Dunkley-Browns looked at her fully and she was certain there was a moment of recognition. To her astonishment the husband said immediately in a hard, clipped tone, 77
‘No, my dear. Never once clapped eyes on you. Obviously you’re mistaken.’
Ada, braced for battle, said, ‘Mistaken about your motor, are we?’
‘Anyone could have told you about my car …’ Dunkley-Brown started to say. Then he interrupted himself and said, ‘All right, you’re obviously mistaken, but for the sake of some peace, I’ll talk to you outside. Fair enough?’
‘Do you want me to come, Ned?’ his wife asked.
Ada spoke up as if the offer were addressed to her. ‘Thanks, but we’d rather talk to you later.’
She said, ‘You sound like the police. What are we supposed to have done? Robbed a bank?’
‘Gordon Bennett, we’re nothing to do with the police,’ said Ada, speaking from the heart.
Dunkley-Brown stood up. ‘Let’s sort this out, whatever it is. I’ll step outside with you, but I’m not having my wife’s evening disturbed.’
Ada led the way and they stood in the sparse evening light in the Market Place while Rose explained the connection. She set out the facts without guile, admitting that she had her information second-hand from an elderly woman, fully expecting her frankness to be matched by Dunkley-Brown’s. He heard it all in silence, his eyes giving no hint of involvement.
Finally Rose asked him, ‘Well, was it your car she saw? Did you bring me to the Hinton Clinic that evening?’
Dunkley-Brown overrode the last word. ‘Absolutely not. You’re mistaken. I was nowhere near Bath last Monday night and neither was my car. We spent the evening in Westbury. I can’t help you.’
Ada couldn’t contain herself. ‘But the car was seen, a big white car with a fish on the bonnet. How many cars like that are there in these parts? Have you ever seen another one?’
He would not yield. ‘There’s no reason why someone else shouldn’t have one.’
‘The driver was a bald bloke.’
Ada spoke this as a statement of fact without regard to any sensitivity Dunkley-Brown may have had about his appearance. He didn’t care for it at
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