Poison in the Pen

CHAPTER 19

Scilla Repton lifted the telephone receiver in the study and asked for a London number. Of course the girl in the telephone exchange would listen if she thought there was anything to listen to, but what did it matter? If you lived in a village you didn’t have any private affairs to speak of anyway. If you heard too often from anyone, Mrs. Gurney at the post office got to know the writing and could make a pretty shrewd guess at the writer. Scilla had heard her say quite openly across the counter things like, “Oh, no, Mrs. Lawson, there’s nothing from your Ernie to-day-just a card from your sister in Birmingham.”

She waited for the click of the receiver and thought what she was going to say. It took her some time to get hold of Gilbert Earle, and when she did get him he couldn’t have sounded stuffier. He heard her laugh.

“Really, Gilbert-what a voice! Anyone would think we had quarrelled!”

He said in very good French, “A little discretion, if you please.”

She sounded amused.

“I can’t be bothered. Besides there’s nothing to bother about. Roger tells me the wedding is off, and a good job too. Anyone could see with half an eye that it was going to be a case of marry in haste and repent at leisure, so you’re well out of it, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

She allowed her voice to soften.

“It’ll all come out in the wash, darling. Look here, I’ve got to come up to town, and I thought we might lunch together. What about it?”

“I hardly think this is the moment.”

“What a foul thing to say! It’s Val who has turned you down, not me. I thought I might provide a little hand-holding-you sound as if you needed it. Nothing like being seen about with somebody else as soon as possible. I mean, darling, how much more agreeable to have people coming up and asking you who was the smashing blonde you were lunching with, instead of drifting along to condole at some horrid solitary snack bar. You know, what you want at the moment is a tonic, and so do I. I’ll say I’m going to the dentist. That always goes down well, and as a matter of fact I’m about due for a date with him. And Mamie would lend us her flat and not ask any questions. So Monday at the old place at one o’clock. The best of everything!” She rang off in a hurry because she thought she heard a movement behind her.

But she had not rung off in time. The sound which she had heard was not the sound of the opening but of the closing door. Roger Repton was already in the room. The latch clicked, he leaned back against the panels, and said in an odd dead voice,

“Who were you talking to?”

She said the first name that came into her head, the one she had used to Gilbert Earle.

“Mamie Foster. I’ve got to go and see the dentist, and I thought I’d go back to her flat afterwards and have a bit of a rest before coming down again. He may want to give me gas.”

He stood there with his hand on the door behind him.

“That is a lie.”

“Roger!”

His voice had not altered. She knew his temper to be a violent one. There was something unnatural about this leaden tone. He said,

“You were not talking to Mamie Foster, you were talking about her. You were going to meet Gilbert Earle, and you were talking to him. You said, ‘I’ll say I’m going to the dentist-that always goes down well. And Mamie would lend us her flat and not ask any questions.’ And you would meet him at the old place at one o’clock on Monday. You see it’s no use telling any more lies, because I know. If you have been in the habit of meeting him at Mamie Foster’s flat, it should be possible to get evidence of the fact, in which case I shall divorce you. Someone was kind enough to send me an anonymous letter informing me that you have been having an affair with Gilbert. I think Valentine probably had a letter too. I haven’t asked her, and she hasn’t said so, but I imagine that you have had your share in breaking up her marriage. You can go to Gilbert Earle, or you can go to your accommodating friend Mamie Foster, or you can go to hell. But I should like you to get out of my house.” He stood away from the door and opened it. “You had better go and pack.”

She was between fear and anger. Something desperate in her was urging her to burn her boats. Why not kick over the traces, upset the apple cart, and get back to the old life? She was better looking than she had ever been, and her figure was just as good. She could get back into the show business, and Gilbert would come to heel all right. She was fed to the teeth with the country and with Roger. But she was frightened of this desperate urge. She could remember the times when she had been out of a job-when she was cold, tired, hungry, and nobody cared a damn whether she lived or died. If Roger divorced her she would lose the money he had settled on her. There were the horrid words in the settlement which the lawyer had been careful to explain to her-dum casta, whilst chaste. If she went through the divorce court she wouldn’t get a penny. But if she stayed here-if she could stick it out-and Roger died… She wouldn’t be so badly off at all… He was getting on…

All these thoughts were in her mind like birds beating against a window. It was the fear that broke through. She heard herself saying in a loud scornful voice,

“An anonymous letter? One of those filthy things that have been going round? How dare you!”

He made no response to her heat as he said,

“A filthy letter about a filthy thing.”

“Lies-lies-lies!”

He shook his head.

“I don’t think so. The letter was quite circumstantial. You were with Gilbert Earle and you were spied on, and I think I know by whom. I think I know who wrote the letter.”

She put up her hand to her throat. The pulse of anger beat there-the pulse of fear.

“Who was it?”

“You would like to know, wouldn’t you? Perhaps it was you yourself. It would have been one way of breaking off Valentine’s marriage, wouldn’t it? It would have been one way of getting out of your own! What do you and your friends care about divorce-it doesn’t mean anything to you! But you had better be sure that Gilbert will marry you before you walk out.”

She said in a voice that was edged with anger,

“I thought you were turning me out! Suppose I haven’t got anywhere to go to! Suppose I just say I’m going to stay!”

He had a sense of having gone too far, of having embarked upon a course which would involve them all in a devastating scandal. If he went any farther, there could be no turning back. How far had she really gone herself-how far had she meant to go? Gilbert wouldn’t marry her if he could help it. He had an empty title coming to him. He couldn’t afford a scandal, and he couldn’t afford to marry a woman who wouldn’t have a penny. These were not consecutive thoughts. They were there in the cooling temper of his mind.

They had both forgotten the open door. Roger remembered it now. He pushed it to as he said,

“I have no desire to put myself in the wrong by turning you out. You can make your plans, and you can take your time. In any case you’ll have to stay over Tuesday. There must be no scandal before that poor girl’s funeral.”

It was very disappointing for Florrie Stokes when the study door was closed. She had come through into the hall on her lawful business of seeing to the fires and drawing the curtains before dinner. She couldn’t help hearing the angry voices in the study, because it was the first room she came to, only of course when she heard the way Colonel Repton was talking she knew better than to go in. She didn’t mean to listen- well, not really-but the way the Colonel was talking, not loud but ever so distinct and bitter-well, she just couldn’t help it. And the very first thing she heard was something about getting evidence of Mrs. Repton meeting Mr. Gilbert at her friend Mamie Foster’s flat and going for a divorce. And he went on, “You can go to Gilbert Earle, or you can go to your accommodating friend Mamie Foster, or you can go to hell. But I should like you to get out of my house.” And when he got as far as that the door began to open, and it was all she could do to get back out of sight. Even then if Mrs. Repton had come out, she would have been caught. But Mrs. Repton didn’t come out. She said very clear and angry-something about an anonymous letter and, “How dare you!”

After that Florrie just couldn’t tear herself away. With the door open, she could stand right back against the baize door which went through to the kitchen premises. If one of them put a foot into the hall she would be just coming through to her work and nothing to say how long she had been there. She could hear everything they said, and it was as good as being at the pictures. Of course everyone knew Mrs. Repton was flighty, just the same as they knew she’d been carrying on with Mr. Gilbert on the sly. And serve her right if the Colonel had found her out. She’d got a husband of her own, hadn’t she, and it was a downright shame doing anything to upset Miss Valentine’s marriage. Only of course now that Mr. Jason was back Miss Valentine would never want anyone but him-they all knew that.

When Scilla came out of the study with an angry spot on either cheek Florrie had just let the baize door swing to behind her.