John Mortimer - Rumpole A La Carte
Page 27
'Where'sthe Crock-a-Gleam?' I said. 'You haven't pawned it?
I know things aren't brilliant but...' 'I sent it back to John Lewis,' Hilda told me. 'We might get a little something for it.' 'Why?' I felt for a chair and lowered myself slowly into it.
'What's it done wrong?' 'Nothing, really. It just takes about twice as long to do the washing up as even you do, Rumpole. That's not it. It's her.' 'Her?' 'Charmian Nichols. She wrote to Dodo and said Christmas 245 with us was about as exciting as watching your fingernails grow. And when I think of what we spent on her wretched tea set. "Charming Knickers", that was her nickname at school. We got her completely wrong. There wasn't anything charming about her.' 'How do you know what she wrote about Christmas?' 'Dodo sent me her letter, of course. Well, after that, I couldn't sit and look at the dishwasher you bought just to please her.' Wonderfully loyal group, your old school friends, I thought of saying that but decided against it. Then Hilda changed the subject.
'Rumpole,' she said, 'are things very bad?' 'No one wants to employ me. Not since I changed sides in the middle of a case.' 'You did what you thought was right,' she said, surprisingly sympathetically. But then she added, 'Do be careful not to do what you think's right again. It does seem to have disastrous results.' 'I can't promise you that, Hilda.' I made my bid for independence.
'But I can promise you one thing.' 'What's that?' 'From now on, old thing, I promise you, Rumpole only defends.'
The End