I’d be better able to get away from there if I was clean and dressed and everything.
“Vicky had taken away my jeans and given me a skirt, a longish sort of A-line skirt it was, awful, but I wasn’t going to go out there in just my knickers, so I put it on and went out and he was there - she called him Jerry - and she told me to cook the lunch.”
“She told you to cook the lunch?” Wexford said in a neutral tone. The incredulity was in his face.
“I was to cook the lunch and clear it away and wash up. I said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ and that I was going home, she was to take me home now. I knew it was a crime to take someone away and shut them up against their will, and I said that to them and Vicky said, ‘Too bad,’ or something like that. I tried to run to the front door - well, I did run to the front door but it was locked on three locks, so I tried a window but all the windows were locked and I think they were double-glazed too. I didn’t tell you I felt awfully ill, like an outsize hangover it was, a tremendous headache and sort of trembling and shivering. So in the end I just did what she said. I said could I have some paracetamol first and she gave me two capsules. I saw her take them out of the paracetamol pack, so I knew they were okay.”
Rachel laughed that same bitter laugh. “Then I peeled some potatoes and washed a cauliflower - I’m not much of a cook, I’ve never had to cook.” Rachel eyed her mother reproachfully just as she must have looked at her when, in the past, any tentative suggestions had been made that she might care to learn how to boil an egg or grill a chop. “They watched me all the time, Vicky and Jerry. Anyway, we ate the lunch and then I washed up and Vicky said to get the vacuum cleaner and clean the bedrooms, but not her bedroom, the door to that was locked. I said, ‘Can I go home if I do?’ and Vicky said, ‘We’ll see,’ so I cleaned the bedrooms and when I came back, she gave me a great pile of Jerry’s socks and said to mend them. ‘Darn’ them was what she said and I didn’t know what that meant.”
“Rachel,” said Wexford, interrupting her, for he could stand it no longer, “have you ever read a novel called The Franchise Affair by Josephine Tey?”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“It’s about a young girl who accuses two women of kidnapping her and forcing her to do their housework. The accusation is false. She has, in fact, been away with a man she picked up in a hotel. The novel is sometimes set as a GCSE text.”
The flush that spread across Rachel’s face was one of the most intense and glowing he had ever seen. But he knew that it is not only guilt and shame that make us blush. Being suspected of lying may be just as effective in causing a rush of blood to the face.
“Have you read it?” he asked, gently this time.
“Yes, I have.”
“Well?”
Rachel spoke in a high voice, near to hysteria. “You came here and - and wanted me to talk to you and I said yes - I said I’d tell you everything - and now I - I have – you - you don’t believe me! You accuse me of getting it out of a book!”
“Did you darn his socks?” asked Karen, barely concealing her amusement.
“No, because I can I don’t know howl I got supper instead and put my jeans and shirt in the washing machine and washed up, and all the time this Jerry never said a word, he just watched me. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Go on,” said Wexford.
“Not if that woman’s going to laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing,” said Karen. “Even you must have felt it was pretty ludicrous trying to get you to mend his socks. Did you try to escape?”
“They hadn’t a phone, or if they had, I couldn’t find it. I tried all the windows. I tried to attract someone’s attention but there wasn’t anyone, it was just a country lane. Cars went past but
“Vicky had taken away my jeans and given me a skirt, a longish sort of A-line skirt it was, awful, but I wasn’t going to go out there in just my knickers, so I put it on and went out and he was there - she called him Jerry - and she told me to cook the lunch.”
“She told you to cook the lunch?” Wexford said in a neutral tone. The incredulity was in his face.
“I was to cook the lunch and clear it away and wash up. I said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ and that I was going home, she was to take me home now. I knew it was a crime to take someone away and shut them up against their will, and I said that to them and Vicky said, ‘Too bad,’ or something like that. I tried to run to the front door - well, I did run to the front door but it was locked on three locks, so I tried a window but all the windows were locked and I think they were double-glazed too. I didn’t tell you I felt awfully ill, like an outsize hangover it was, a tremendous headache and sort of trembling and shivering. So in the end I just did what she said. I said could I have some paracetamol first and she gave me two capsules. I saw her take them out of the paracetamol pack, so I knew they were okay.”
Rachel laughed that same bitter laugh. “Then I peeled some potatoes and washed a cauliflower - I’m not much of a cook, I’ve never had to cook.” Rachel eyed her mother reproachfully just as she must have looked at her when, in the past, any tentative suggestions had been made that she might care to learn how to boil an egg or grill a chop. “They watched me all the time, Vicky and Jerry. Anyway, we ate the lunch and then I washed up and Vicky said to get the vacuum cleaner and clean the bedrooms, but not her bedroom, the door to that was locked. I said, ‘Can I go home if I do?’ and Vicky said, ‘We’ll see,’ so I cleaned the bedrooms and when I came back, she gave me a great pile of Jerry’s socks and said to mend them. ‘Darn’ them was what she said and I didn’t know what that meant.”
“Rachel,” said Wexford, interrupting her, for he could stand it no longer, “have you ever read a novel called The Franchise Affair by Josephine Tey?”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“It’s about a young girl who accuses two women of kidnapping her and forcing her to do their housework. The accusation is false. She has, in fact, been away with a man she picked up in a hotel. The novel is sometimes set as a GCSE text.”
The flush that spread across Rachel’s face was one of the most intense and glowing he had ever seen. But he knew that it is not only guilt and shame that make us blush. Being suspected of lying may be just as effective in causing a rush of blood to the face.
“Have you read it?” he asked, gently this time.
“Yes, I have.”
“Well?”
Rachel spoke in a high voice, near to hysteria. “You came here and - and wanted me to talk to you and I said yes - I said I’d tell you everything - and now I - I have – you - you don’t believe me! You accuse me of getting it out of a book!”
“Did you darn his socks?” asked Karen, barely concealing her amusement.
“No, because I can I don’t know howl I got supper instead and put my jeans and shirt in the washing machine and washed up, and all the time this Jerry never said a word, he just watched me. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Go on,” said Wexford.
“Not if that woman’s going to laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing,” said Karen. “Even you must have felt it was pretty ludicrous trying to get you to mend his socks. Did you try to escape?”
“They hadn’t a phone, or if they had, I couldn’t find it. I tried all the windows. I tried to attract someone’s attention but there wasn’t anyone, it was just a country lane. Cars went past but
Similar Books
