Cat Among the Pigeons

IV

“Good Lord,” said Jennifer, allowing Julia's forehand drive to pass her. “There's Mummy.”

The two girls turned to stare at the agitated figure of Mrs. Sutcliffe, shepherded by Miss Rich, rapidly arriving and gesticulating as she did so.

“More fuss, I suppose,” said Jennifer resignedly. “It's the murder. You are lucky, Julia, that your mother's safely on a bus in the Caucasus.”

“There's still Aunt Isabel.”

"Aunts don't mind in the same way.

“Hullo, Mummy,” she added, as Mrs. Sutcliffe arrived.

“You must come and pack your things, Jennifer. I'm taking you back with me.”

“Back home?”

“Yes.”

“But - you don't mean altogether? Not for good?”

“Yes. I do.”

“But you can't - really. My tennis has come on like anything. I've got a very good chance of winning the singles and Julia and I might win the doubles, though I don't think it's very likely.”

“You're coming home with me today.”

“Why?”

“Don't ask questions.”

“I suppose it's because of Miss Springer and Miss Vansittart being murdered. But no one's murdered any of the girls. I'm sure they wouldn't want to. And Sports Day is in three weeks' time. I think I shall win the long jump and I've a good chance for the hurdling.”

“Don't argue with me, Jennifer. You're coming back with me today. Your father insists.”

“But, Mummy -”

Arguing persistently Jennifer moved toward the house by her mother's side.

Suddenly she broke away and ran back to the tennis court.

“Good by, Julia. Mummy seems to have got the wind up thoroughly. Daddy, too, apparently. Sickening, isn't it? Goodbye. I'll write to you.”

“I'll write to you, too, and tell you all that happens.”

“I hope they don't kill Chaddy next. I'd rather it was Mademoiselle Blanche, wouldn't you?”

“Yes. She's the one we could spare best. I say, did you notice how black Miss Rich was looking?”

“She hasn't said a word. She's furious at Mummy coming and taking me away.”

“Perhaps she'll stop her. She's very forceful, isn't she? Not like anyone else.”

“She reminds me of someone,” said Jennifer.

“I don't think she's a bit like anybody. She always seems to be quite different.”

“Oh, yes. She is different. I meant in appearance. But the person I knew was quite fat.”

“I can't imagine Miss Rich being fat.”

“Jennifer...” called Mrs. Sutcliffe.

“I do think parents are trying,” said Jennifer crossly. “Fuss, fuss, fuss. They never stop. I do think you're lucky to -”

“I know. You said that before. But just at the moment, let me tell you, I wish Mummy were a good deal nearer, and not on a bus in Anatolia.”

“Jennifer...”

“Coming...”

Julia walked slowly in the direction of the Sports Pavilion. Her steps grew slower and slower and finally she stopped altogether. She stood, frowning, lost in thought.

The luncheon bell sounded, but she hardly heard it. She stared down at the racquet she was holding, moved a step or two along the path, then wheeled round and marched determinedly toward the house. She went in by the front door, which was not allowed, and thereby avoided meeting any of the other girls. The hall was empty. She ran up the stairs to her small bedroom, looked round her hurriedly, then lifting the mattress on her bed, shoved the racquet flat beneath it. Then, rapidly smoothing her hair, she walked demurely downstairs to the dining room.

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