Devil in the Detail

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Devil in the Detail Page 9

by Leo McNeir


  “What’s that tune you’ve been humming?” said Ralph.

  “Humming?”

  “Yes. You’ve been humming it on and off all morning.”

  “Have I?”

  “It’s a Beatles’ song,” Anne said. “Happiness is a Warm Gun.”

  “I don’t think I know that one,” said Ralph.

  Marnie disengaged herself to steer Sally Ann round a bend. “I heard it on the radio this morning when you were still in bed. It’s one of John Lennon’s.”

  “It doesn’t sound like John Lennon,” Ralph said doubtfully. “The title, I mean.”

  “Well, he certainly sings it. It’s full of irony.”

  Ralph nodded. “There’s a double irony there, when you think about it.”

  Marnie heard the assassin’s gunshots on a New York street. “I’d rather not think about it, and just enjoy the day.”

  *

  And they did enjoy the day. The countryside looked like a tourist brochure, with sheep and cattle grazing in the fields, trees in the full leaf of high summer and wild flowers at the water’s edge. They rubbed sun block on their faces and arms. Marnie put on a white floppy hat.

  Ralph’s pleasure was only marred at the thought that he would be going away for a week, flying off to his conference the next day. He perched on the stern rail while Marnie steered and Anne leaned against the hatch. For him Marnie was close to perfection. He watched her at the tiller, balancing lightly on her feet, making constant small adjustments to keep the boat on a straight course. In faded jeans and white T-shirt she looked wonderful, and he could scarcely believe his luck.

  And yet … and yet … Tomorrow he would be leaving. Even though it was only for a short while, a wave of anxiety rolled over him at the thought. In the past when he had been away, Marnie had run into dangers that had almost proved fatal. It troubled him that she was now disturbed enough by the rioters she had seen to let that prey on her mind, even to the point of creeping in on her thoughts when she was simply humming a tune. A cloud darkened the horizon of this perfect day.

  Suddenly, Anne turned excitedly, showing them a lamb kneeling down to drink in the shallow water of the canal where it skirted a meadow, her face delighted as she pointed towards the bank. Marnie was nodding and saying something that was lost to Ralph in the clanking of the engine. Anne must have caught his expression, for she turned back to look at him, her face questioning, anxious. Ralph quickly changed to a reassuring smile. He stood up and went to stand beside Anne, resting one hand lightly on her shoulder, the other on the warm steel of the boat’s roof.

  “Are we tying up below the manor as usual for lunch?” he asked her.

  “’Spect so,” she said, her smile now back in place. “Anywhere along here would be ideal as far as I’m concerned. It’s all just perfect, isn’t it, Ralph? Absolutely perfect. Oops, I’m starting to sound like Estelle!” She made a funny face and laughed into her hand.

  *

  Only a few wisps of high cloud were on hand to witness Anne bringing Sally Ann home to base at around six o’clock. All three of the crew were glowing with colour after hours spent in the open air. It had been a lazy afternoon. They had eaten lunch on deck and stayed out sunning themselves and reading magazines before strolling to look at the working boats up at Stoke Bruerne. Back on board, Marnie had slipped into a bikini top and shorts and now looked and felt as if she had been on a Mediterranean holiday.

  Ralph went on Thyrsis to make a pot of Darjeeling. From force of habit Marnie and Anne had gone through the spinney to check messages in the office barn, and had been surprised to see Estelle’s Golf standing in its parking slot.

  “That’s odd,” Marnie muttered.

  “I thought she said she’d be out for the whole day,” said Anne.

  Marnie walked over and touched the bonnet. It was cool. “She’s been back a while. I wonder if she’s all right.”

  They split forces, Anne checking the office while Marnie walked over to the cottage. Halfway across the yard she hesitated. Estelle would not thank her for interfering, but if she had come home early feeling unwell, she might be in need of some help. No, she was entitled to privacy. Marnie did not want to meddle. She turned back to the office, but had only taken two steps when a voice sounded behind her. She looked up to see Estelle hanging out of an upstairs window.

  “Hi, Marnie! How’s things?”

  “Great. You?”

  “Sure. Were you looking for me?”

  “Well, I saw you were back and … We were going to have a cup of tea. Would you care to join us?”

  “Wonderful. Give me five minutes.”

  “We’ll be on Ralph’s boat. Take your time.”

  Estelle arrived on Thyrsis as Ralph carried the pot through to the saloon. She did not come empty-handed. In a small basket she brought fresh figs and a box of homemade biscuits, round like miniature bagels. Anne put them in dishes and set them out on a low table.

  “What are these?” she asked, pointing at the round biscuits. “I’ve never seen these before.”

  “Karks,” said Estelle. “Try one.”

  “Karks,” Anne repeated, picking up the dish and offering it round.

  “Mm … crispy.” Anne licked a crumb from her lips. “A sort of nutty taste.”

  “They’re good,” said Marnie. “Very good. I don’t recognise them, either. Did you make them yourself?”

  “Yes,” said Estelle. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m quite domesticated really.”

  “Of course. It’s just, well, I never thought of you doing home baking in the kitchen. I had you down as a bright-lights city-girl.”

  “Sure, but deep down maybe there’s a country girl from a shtetl somewhere below the surface.”

  Ralph nodded appreciatively at the bowl of karks. “She can come to the surface every day as far as I’m concerned. Did you say a shtetl?”

  “Yes. My family back then were orthodox, my own parents are reform, and me, I don’t actually practise, but it is my background, my upbringing. Greenwood is just a translation, of course.”

  “Greenwood?” said Marnie. “I seem to have turned over two pages at once.”

  “Greenwood. You know, Marnie … my name?”

  “Ah, right.”

  “My grandparents got out of the Sudetenland in the thirties. Their name was Grünwald. When they came to England they changed it. Even though they were Jewish refugees, the last thing they wanted was a German-sounding name, obviously.”

  “Understandably,” said Marnie. “Now I know what name to put on your tenancy agreement.”

  “Of course. We ought to do it all properly. Have you had an agreement drawn up?”

  “Yes.” Marnie made a dismissive gesture. “Sorry to talk business when we’re having a day off. I wouldn’t like you to think I was a … schlemiel.”

  Estelle burst out laughing. “You speak Yiddish, Marnie? Surely you’re not. Or was your name Walker originally Valkyrie or something?”

  Amid the laughter, Anne felt she was being left behind in this part of the conversation.

  “No,” said Marnie. “But I grew up in north London, remember. There’s a lot of Yiddish in London slang.”

  “Of course. Look, let me have the agreement and I’ll sign it as soon as you want.”

  “We’ll be having supper at around eight,” said Marnie. “If you’d like to join us, I could let you have it to check over.”

  “I’d love to,” said Estelle. “Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll get the agreement from the office and drop it over to you,” said Anne. She smiled at Estelle. “I’m sure you’ll find it’s … kosher.”

  *

  They were sitting in the dining area on Thyrsis at the end of supper. On the table stood a cheese board and fruit. Ralph poured the final drops of wine. Outside it was still light, but a cool breeze had driven them on board.

  Estelle was asking Ralph about his conference in Spain and his new career as a visiting pro
fessor at his Oxford college. She observed it seemed an ideal way of life: foreign travel, stimulating experiences and a good home to return to. And Marnie, of course.

  “Ah, but that’s the main drawback,” said Ralph.

  Marnie laughed. “The going or the coming back?”

  “I leave you to guess. But seriously, it is the only problem in the package.”

  “I’m not sure I’d agree,” said Estelle.

  “The trouble is,” Ralph began, looking at Marnie. “When I go away on a trip, a certain person has a habit of getting into all sorts of scrapes.”

  “And you feel you have to be here to protect me from my excesses,” said a certain person.

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far.”

  “Well, no need to worry about a certain person,” said Estelle. “Anne and I will be here to look after her while you’re away.”

  “That’s very consoling, but I’ll still miss her.”

  Estelle reached across the table and patted Ralph’s hand. “Oh, that might not be such a bad thing for a relationship. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.”

  “I’d sooner have Ralph around, too, but it can’t be helped.”

  Estelle suddenly sat up straight. “Ah, that reminds me. There’s something I wanted to raise, something in the tenancy agreement for the cottage.”

  “Not kosher, after all?” said Anne.

  “Ye-e-s.”

  “But?” said Marnie.

  Estelle bit her lip. “Perhaps now isn’t the right time to talk about business.”

  “The agreement is only a formality,” said Marnie.

  “But the devil is in the detail,” Anne reminded her quietly.

  “If you’ve spotted a problem, I’m sure we can sort it out,” said Marnie. “I thought it was pretty innocuous, just a standard form of wording, but I’m no expert in these things.”

  Estelle reached down to her bag and brought out the document. She laid it on the table and turned a couple of pages. They could see that one paragraph had been ringed.

  “This is it,” she said, and began reading extracts.

  ‘Not without the written consent of the Owner to permit any person to sleep, reside or stay at the property…

  bla-bla-bla …

  Not to keep any animal at the property.’

  “I think that’s just a catch-all,” said Ralph. “It means the landlord has the right to say no to a pit bull terrier and yes to a goldfish.”

  “You want permission to keep a goldfish?” said Marnie, smiling.

  “No,” Estelle said seriously. “I want a man.”

  “Tricky,” said Marnie, keeping a straight face. “I don’t think I can promise one of those as part of the tenancy.”

  Anne laughed.

  Estelle smiled. “Can we start again?”

  “You want to share the cottage with someone,” said Ralph.

  “Yes.”

  “This is all very sudden,” said Marnie.

  “I know, but I didn’t have a chance to talk to him before today. You don’t mind, do you?” Estelle beamed at her. “Say you don’t mind, Marnie.”

  “Well …” she began.

  “Is there a problem?” Estelle asked.

  “Sorry, I don’t want to be a wet blanket.”

  Estelle looked downcast. “Oh …”

  “It’s just that normally I’d want at least to meet someone before committing myself to having them as a tenant.”

  Estelle suddenly brightened. “Oh, Marnie, you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about. Luther’s adorable. He’s the sweetest, nicest person I’ve ever met. And he’s dishy too. You’ll really love him, I guarantee it.”

  “You make him sound like a cross between Snow White and Cary Grant.”

  Estelle laughed. “More like Albert Einstein and Arnold Schwarzenegger, actually, with one slight difference.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. Believe me, Marnie. He’s a wonderful man. As soon as you meet him, you’ll know what I mean. And if you don’t like him, I’ll tell him he can’t stay. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

  Marnie shrugged. “What can I say?”

  “Then you agree to meet him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. He had a lot of work to finish today. He’s very conscientious. That’s why I came back early.”

  “What’s the slight difference, by the way?” Marnie said.

  “How do you mean?”

  “You said there was one slight difference with Luther compared with Einstein and Schwarzenegger?”

  “Oh, yes.” Estelle laughed. “He’s from Barbados, so he’ll even help the ethnic mix of the village. He’s perfect.”

  *

  It was a perfect early summer’s night. The breeze had died down, and stars were shining brilliantly in a clear sky. Marnie looked out only briefly before closing the stern door on Thyrsis. She did not want Ralph to say he knew she had something on her mind because she stood gazing out over the water before coming to bed. She walked back to the sleeping cabin in her dressing gown.

  “No need to ask if you’ve got everything packed ready for tomorrow,” she said brightly.

  Ralph was sitting up in bed reading type-written notes. A folder lay in front of him on the duvet.

  “Is it bothering you?” he said.

  Marnie did not pretend to misunderstand. “Well …”

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  “Really?”

  “Estelle didn’t give you much elbow room, did she?”

  Marnie shook her head. “I felt uncomfortable, being confronted with a situation without any warning. What Estelle wants might be fine, but the way she put it, if I object, I’ll seem like a tyrant.”

  “Presumably, if she’d told you about Luther from the outset, you wouldn’t have objected?”

  “Not if I’d had a chance to see him and agree to the idea. Why should I object?”

  “I’ve been wondering,” Ralph began. “Did she think you might object, so she introduced it like that to make sure she got her own way? If so, why?”

  “I thought of that, too. I was completely wrong-footed. It looked as if I was being difficult, when it was Estelle who was bouncing me into accepting a total stranger, about whom I know nothing.”

  “If it was a deliberate ploy, I wonder why she tried to out-manoeuvre you.”

  “Perhaps we’re reading too much into it, Ralph. There may be a simple explanation. She said she hadn’t had a chance to raise it with him until today. He has been away, after all.”

  “True.”

  Marnie nibbled a finger nail. “Actually, if it is a rebound thing …”

  “You think that could bring problems?”

  “Other people’s relationships … Who knows? It could be great; it could be just one more complication. After everything we’ve been through these past few months, I could use some stability.”

  “Marnie –”

  “Don’t say you wish you weren’t going away tomorrow.”

  “But –”

  “No. Here I am maundering on about something that may not be a real issue at all, when I really ought to be making sure you’ve done everything you need to do before you go off.”

  “That’s OK. I told you I’ve got all my things packed.”

  “That isn’t what I had in mind.”

  Marnie slipped off her dressing gown, took Ralph’s papers from his hands, dropped them on the floor and reached up to turn off the lights.

  9

  Anne had a restless night punctuated by weird dreams. Glebe Farm was being over-run by a motley army of rioters, running in and out of the buildings with flaming torches. She heard screaming in the cottages, saw flames gushing from the windows of the farmhouse. Strange banners were flying on the rooftops. Everywhere a smell of burning timbers. When a detachment of thugs ran towards the barn where her Mini was garaged, she sat up in a sweat, gasping.

  Across the attic a pale light was penetrating from
the narrow slit that was her only window. Anne blinked a few times, calmed down and took stock of the situation. The bedside clock showed six twenty-nine, and she heard a faint sound of movement outside. She listened, swinging her feet out from under the duvet to find her slippers. There was the crunch of tyres on gravel, the murmur of an engine, a change of gear.

  Marnie was setting off to take Ralph to Luton airport for his early morning flight to Barcelona and would return for a late breakfast. Now, Anne was wide awake. Coffee beckoned, and she went down the wall-ladder to put on the kettle, tugging off her long T-shirt as she stepped into the shower cubicle and began turning under the hot jets.

  Minutes later, still clutching her mug, she walked through the spinney towards Sally Ann to feed Dolly. It was another peculiar morning, cool and damp, even mistier than yesterday. Moisture was glistening on the trees and bushes, dripping on the bare earth. A fresh leafy smell was in the air. Wishing she had put on a sweatshirt, Anne quickened her pace to keep warm. Dolly was waiting for her with a warbled greeting, and they converged on the galley with a common purpose. So it was that Anne did not at first notice the newcomer.

  It was only when she emerged from the cabin onto the stern deck that she saw the boat.

  *

  Passing the church and the village school, Marnie raised a hand to her mouth between gear changes and yawned. Ralph glanced across at her.

  “You know there really was no need for you to take me to the airport like this, Marnie. It’s sweet of you, but I feel guilty at getting you up so early.”

  “No problem, kind sir.”

  “Then why are you yawning?”

  “I always take a little light exercise in the morning. You should try it. It does you good.”

  He laughed. “You always have an answer, that’s for sure. This mist is odd. It felt more like autumn than early summer when we came out just now.”

 

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