‘But like her, you retreated in the face of tradition?’
‘No. If my doubts had been motivated by more than emotion, he would not have gone to Barnsford. But if I was honest, I have to admit there was so much to be gained; more than he would lose by not being at home. That sense of independence boarding school instils is worth the heartaches.’
‘Even the heartache when you can’t see him on exeat days; can’t even fly him out here very often since I can’t make enough money to do more than keep us ticking over?’
‘Cut that out, Charles,’ she said sharply.
‘Cut out the truth?’
‘The truth is, you make enough at doing what you want to do to provide a life which offers me all I want.’
He fiddled with his glass, turning it round with thumb and forefinger. ‘But that isn’t exactly the whole truth, is it? Thanks to Jerome, we live in this house rent free and the trust pays Dale’s school fees.’
‘Little enough in the circumstances.’
‘But if my books were more successful . . .’
‘Success in the arts is a matter of luck as much as ability and you’ve never had much luck. Your books are good.’
Modesty forbids my admiring the breadth and depth of your criticism.’
‘Why does praise always disturb you?’
‘I don’t know that it does.’
‘If it didn’t, you wouldn’t indulge in so much self-deprecation.’
‘Blame that on my editor, who proffers hope uneasily.’
‘Bill ought to do a lot more for you.’
‘As a matter of fact, I asked him relatively recently if he could suggest some way in which I could increase sales. He suggested sex. But when I added some in my last script, he pulled it out because it didn’t read as if I knew what I was talking about.’
She emptied her glass. ‘That’s a load of bull. If he would give your books some publicity, they’d sell like hot cakes.’
‘Publicity is only offered to books which are selling sufficiently well to pay for the publicity.’
‘Then how the hell does one get them selling well initially?’
‘One acquires the experience necessary to write authoritatively about lesser-known sexual pleasures.’
‘Give me something to throw at you.’
‘I’ll get more drinks instead.’
Two
STEPS IN THE STONE WALL PROVIDED ACCESS TO THE GARDEN OF Ca’n Jerome. As Gerrard climbed the last of these and stepped on to the ground, Laura said: ‘Look at the garden!’ Thanks to a well which had never been known to run dry, the lawn was green although elsewhere grass was turning brown because there had been little rain for several weeks, the flower beds were filled with colour, and the six jacaranda trees were in bloom, as was the lantana hedge around the large kidney-shaped swimming pool. ‘Emilio must have been working really hard,’ she said.
‘Having watched him from time to time, that seems unlikely,’ he observed. ‘Still, to give him his due, it’s not every local willing to put effort into growing something that can’t be eaten.’
They crossed the lawn to the large house, on the south side of which was an arched and pillared patio that provided a sense of grace it otherwise lacked.
Heloise, wearing a bikini, lay on a chaise longue in the sunshine which reached under the patio roof.
‘Morning,’ Laura called out as they approached.
Heloise started, opened her eyes, sat upright. ‘You startled me, because I wasn’t expecting you.’ Her tone was resentful. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you said one o’clock?’
‘I didn’t expect you to arrive at the back.’
‘No damage done,’ Gerrard said, ‘since, sadly, you are decent.’
‘Shut up!’ Laura murmured. ‘You know she’s no sense of humour.’
‘Visitors usually come to the front door,’ Heloise observed tartly.
‘We’re claiming FHB rights,’ Gerrard said.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Family harrives at the back.’
‘I apologise for Charles,’ Laura said. ‘He’s in one of his more facetious moods.’
‘Obviously.’ Heloise stood.
She had everything, Laura thought despondently. Naturally blonde hair with a rippling wave no artifice could match, lapis lazuli eyes, full, shapely lips, a swan neck, a slim body with all the right curves, and the ability to project an innocent sexiness. Small wonder Jerome had not remembered that a cover concealed rather than enhanced the contents.
‘I’ll change before we have aperitifs . . . I’m so glad you haven’t dressed up, Laura, because that means I don’t have to; so much more fun being casual. Shan’t be a moment.’ She went inside.
‘Must you leer?’ Laura demanded.
‘She moves her buttocks with sinuous grace,’ Gerrard answered.
‘So do horses . . . My God, I could crown her with an axe!’
‘Such jealousy because I enjoy a brief moment of visual pleasure?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m mad because she told me I looked like a peasant.’
‘I didn’t hear her say any such thing.’
‘Of course you didn’t, being interested in flesh, not words . . . Not dressed up, when I put on the smartest frock I have!’
‘And look stunning in it.’
‘More like a refugee when she returns, flaunting a little something by Galliano.’
Heloise was indeed wearing a dress that had to bear an out-of-sight designer’s label. She sat on one of the four chairs grouped around a small table in front of the chaise longue. ‘Tell me what you’d like to drink and Filipe can get it.’
‘Filipe?’ Gerrard queried.
‘He and Ana started work here a few days ago – Emilio was supposed to supervise them moving into the servants’ quarters, but I don’t suppose he did. They were recommended by Georgina, who employed them until she and Robert decided to move to Canada; said they were reasonable workers for Mallorquins . . . You know them, I suppose?’
‘Filipe and Ana – I don’t think we do.’
‘Robert and Georgina,’ she corrected sharply.
‘I sometimes had a brief chat with him when we met, collecting mail at the post office, but I don’t suppose I spoke once a month with the duchess. She was out of our financial league.’
‘Bernard’s not a duke – he doesn’t have any title.’
‘Duchess was Georgina’s nickname, a tribute to her insatiable desire to interfere in other people’s lives.’
‘Some thought she could be a little overbearing at times,’ Laura hurriedly said, trying to lessen her husband’s criticism. ‘I’ve been so looking forward to hearing how Fergus is getting on at his new school, do tell us.’
‘I will, after you’ve said what you’ll drink. I can offer anything but champagne. Stupidly, I didn’t order more when I was last here and there are only two bottles left; the Fabers are coming to dinner and he won’t drink cava – says it’s so Spanish.’
‘Hugh is a very observant man,’ Gerrard observed.
‘May I have a gin and tonic?’ Laura asked hurriedly. ‘I reckon that’s the most refreshing drink in this weather.’
‘And the same for me, please,’ he said.
Heloise made her way into the house.
Laura spoke in a low voice. ‘Will you stop being rude.’
‘Fighting fire with fire.’
‘You’re a guest, not a bloody fireman.’
Filipe, hands in white gloves, handed round the plates on each of which were three slices of smoked salmon, a wedge of lemon, and buttered brown bread.
‘I’m afraid it’s only Norwegian,’ Heloise said. ‘It seems impossible to buy Scotch here.’
‘I’m sure this will be just as delicious,’ Laura said politely. Heloise picked up the wedge of lemon on her plate and squeezed it over the salmon. ‘Charles, will you pass the pepper.’
He handed her the wooden mill. As she twisted a fine spray of pepper
, she said: ‘I asked you here at such short notice because there are one or two things I need to say and I find I’m already very booked up from tomorrow. It really is extraordinary what a busy social life one leads on the island, isn’t it?’
‘We tend to lead rather a quiet one,’ Laura observed. ‘That’s probably very wise. There is such a mixture of people who live here or come on holiday, one does have to be so careful. In my case, of course, extra-careful.’
‘Why’s that?’ he asked.
‘My position.’
‘It makes you a target?’
‘People seem rather eager to meet me.’
‘What more natural?’
‘I meant, because of my position.’
‘I thought the social kudos of a title had tended to wither in our age of equality?’
‘I know it doesn’t really mean anything now, and maybe never really did, but some people still do seem to think it adds a certain cachet. Of course, as I’ve always told everyone, title or no title, we are all the same these days.’
‘Unless we’re politicians.’
‘You think they’re better than us?’
‘They also are in the gutter, hut are incapable of looking up at the stars.’
‘You do sometimes say rather odd things.’
‘Not sometimes, Heloise, all the time,’ Laura corrected. ‘I suppose that’s why he writes. I tell everyone they must try to read your books, Charles.’
‘One hopes they find the attempt not too exhausting. Or perhaps it is only, the quest to find one which is difficult?’
‘I don’t quite . . . Where is Filipe? He hasn’t poured the wine or put out the bell-push. It’s on the sideboard where he must have left it. Plugs in to the right of the sideboard and I like it by my right foot.’
Accepting her words as an indirect command, he stood, crossed to the Regency mahogany sideboard which had come from Stayforth, with or without the trustees’ knowledge, inserted the plug and set the bell-push down on the ground by her left foot in a juvenile display of contrariness.
‘I explained very clearly what he was to do,’ she said, as she used her foot to slide the bell-push along the marble floor. ‘Of course, he forgot, as he always does. They are the most feckless people.’
‘Did you tell him in Spanish?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then perhaps he didn’t understand you.’
‘Are you suggesting I don’t speak good English?’
‘Perish the thought. Merely making the point that he may not know the language as well as you think he does.’
‘Georgina said he was fluent.’
‘Perhaps she was judging by her own standards. Or it was to make you keener to employ him and Ana who, presumably, is his wife?’
‘I doubt it. The natives are so immoral.’
The door opened and Filipe entered, came to a stop a metre from where Heloise sat at the head of the table, his sharply featured, dark-toned face expressing uncertainty. ‘Señora?’
‘Lady Gerrard,’ she snapped. ‘How many more times do I have to remind you?’
‘Please pardon.’
‘You didn’t put the bell-push by my chair and you haven’t poured the wine.’
‘I sorry . . .’
‘Get on with it.’
Filipe lifted the bottle out of the wine cooler, wrapped a serviette around it, crossed to where Gerrard sat and prepared to pour.
‘For Heaven’s sake! You serve the ladies first,’ Heloise said angrily.
Filipe went round to Laura’s side, filled one of the glasses in front of her.
‘They are so stupid,’ Heloise said, ‘but I suppose one shouldn’t be surprised since they’re only peasants.’
Filipe served her with wine.
‘Are peasants invariably stupid?’ Gerrard asked.
‘Of course.’
‘I wonder. They may have led peasants’ lives before the tourists arrived, but since then many have built up very successful businesses; one doesn’t do that if one’s stupid.’
‘They become rich by swindling the foreigners.’
‘Who logically have to be less smart than those who swindle them?’
Laura regarded her husband with a shut-up look, then said to Heloise: ‘You were going to say how Fergus is getting on at his new school.’ She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Heloise did so, knowing her husband would become too bored to offer any comments.
Some twenty-five minutes later, when they had finished the open mixed-fruit tart topped with whipped cream, Heloise said: ‘I asked you here because I wanted a word.’
Glad to know it wasn’t for our company, Gerrard silently commented.
‘The trustees have become very difficult. When I told them I needed a better income, they said they didn’t think that would be possible because the investments were giving a poor return, farm rents were low, and Stayforth House and several of the estate cottages needed repairs. I told them that if money was short, they must sell one of the paintings. There was a ridiculous amount of havering, but in the end they agreed to get rid of one. Then, when I told them how much more they must give me, they refused because the money from the painting had to be treated as capital. I pointed out that they weren’t now going to have to use estate income on the buildings so they must be able to give me more, but they said they were under an obligation not to use any more capital than they had to, so they couldn’t increase my income by more than a derisory amount. Naturally, I told my solicitor to knock some sense into them, but he was completely useless; claimed he couldn’t do anything because the terms of the trust were drawn up so tightly.’
‘To make certain the estate survived,’ he observed.
‘And never mind I’m left damn near penniless? With the cost of living going up every day, I simply have to have more money and since they won’t provide it, I’m having to make economies.’
‘That shouldn’t prove too difficult. To start with, the gardens are large, elaborate, and labour-intensive. There’d be considerable saving if they were simplified and reduced in size.’
‘I open them to the public in aid of charity.’
‘I know, but . . .’
‘I regard that as a social obligation.’
Performed in the light of self-promotion. ‘Another possibility is that the home farm could probably be run more economically. I presume Abbott is still head shepherd?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘He’s a very keen breeder and used to show whenever he could. Does he still run Romney Marsh sheep?’
‘There are God knows how many sheep in the fields, but I’ve no idea what kind they are.’
‘Breeding for show is costly rather than profitable. I’ll bet Abbott’s one aim in life is to have a Stayforth ram declared best in show. Have a chat with him . . .’
‘It’s the manager’s job to talk to the workers.’
‘Then ask Ivor to do that.’
‘If you mean Ballard, who used to be farm manager, he left months ago.’
‘He was worth his weight in gold. What on earth caused him to leave?’
‘I couldn’t stand his insolence any longer. Kept arguing and wouldn’t do as I said.’
‘He worked the estate as if it were his own.’
‘Which is precisely what I complained about.’
‘Who’s manager now?’
‘I think he’s called something like Goodall.’
‘Then discuss things with him . . .’
‘It’s not my job to bother about the farm’s running.’
‘Perhaps not, but if you did . . .’
‘All that can wait, since there’s something that has to be dealt with right now. You do remember that the house you live in was Jerome’s, not the trust’s, so now it’s mine?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to have to ask you to pay rent.’
He stared at her in disbelief.
‘I’ve made enquiries about present-day rates
—’
He interrupted her. ‘Jerome said we could live in Ca’n Dento rent free.’
‘He was often far too generous. It’s my experience that people don’t appreciate what they don’t pay for.’
‘I can assure you, we’ve always appreciated his generosity.’
‘The estate agent I spoke to – such an unintelligent man – told me the current rent for the house I described would be between five and seven hundred euros a month, depending on the state of the interior. Since Jerome provided the best equipment everywhere, the higher figure would obviously be more appropriate, but in the circumstances, I only intend to charge the lower one.’
Laura said, her words encased in ice: ‘Aren’t you worried we won’t fully appreciate your generosity?’
‘There’s something else. Dale’s school fees are paid by the trust. That can’t continue after the summer term and you will have to meet the fees from the autumn term onwards.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘It’s necessary. I simply cannot afford to continue as things are.’
Laura, now speaking in as placatory a tone as she could summon, said: ‘If we have to find the rent, there’s absolutely no way in which we can meet the fees. Surely the trust could continue paying them for a while in the hopes things pick up for us?’
‘To help you, I had a word with Sue over the phone. She says that the local schools are surprisingly good and she’d recommend them to anyone.’
‘Then why does she send her son to Eton?’
‘In her position, obviously she has no option . . . Dale would soon fit in.’
‘When he’s fifteen and working like hell for good exam results? When he speaks a little Spanish, but nowhere near enough to cope with a foreign curriculum? When much of the schooling, anyway, is now done in Mallorquin?’
‘Children adapt very quickly.’
‘Yet it seems Fergus was unable to adapt to conditions at Barnsford Close.’
‘The staff were incompetently biased and refused to understand he has a very sensitive nature. I’m sorry, Laura, but we all have to make economies.’
‘And some of us at other people’s expense.’ Laura stood. ‘I think it’ll be best if we leave now. Thank you for having us.’
An Air of Murder Page 2