by Anne Morice
The problem is that I’m afraid Elfrieda has rather set her heart on it.’
‘Then her heart must be set off it again. I never heard a more outrageous proposal in my life. Has she gone raving mad? Apart from everything else, we’d settled that Janice should do it and Elfrieda was the first to agree that she’d be very good.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Len said, now looking close to tears, ‘but, if you remember, that was before Melanie came on the scene.’
‘Well, she won’t appear in any scene of mine, I’ll tell you that much. You’ll have to be firm, Len; make her understand that it’s quite out of the question.’
‘And when did you last try being firm with Elfrieda?’
‘Never. You know perfectly well that it’s not my policy to interfere. On the other hand, we have a tacit agreement that my wishes should be consulted at every stage in the game and that she would never, in any circumstances, go against them. It saves a lot of time and argument and it has always worked perfectly. It is up to you to ensure that the arrangement continues.’
Viola, who had been looking quite as put out as the other two, now produced one of the peacemaking compromises for which she was so justly famous:
‘It’s a very small part, Jamie. How about if Melanie were to understudy?’
‘Nothing at all about it. Any fool could guess what would happen, if I were to allow that. Elfrieda would get to work with her pins and wax and on the first night Janice would be stricken with the full laryngitis. I’m not falling into that trap, thank you very much.’
‘Has she any experience at all?’ I asked, this having become a game in which everyone could join.
‘Apart from Buttons in the Orphanage production of Cinders, not as far as I know.’
‘Then how . . . ?’
‘Has Elfrieda managed to hit on this quaint idea? One asks oneself! Perhaps not being a professional herself, she doesn’t see the need for anyone else to be. Anyway, there it is,’ he said, getting up. ‘You know my views, Len, and you must pass them on to her with all speed. I am simply not having it and that’s final.’
‘I just hope she’ll take it, that’s all,’ Len said in a doom laden mumble.
‘It is up to you to see that she does, my dear. Otherwise, I’m warning you, there’s going to be trouble. Goodnight, Viola sweetheart. Sorry to be so sour, but there are limits, aren’t there? Goodness me, how petty this little world of ours can get sometimes, don’t you agree?’ With which heretical words, he turned his back and stalked off across the garden.
Viola was unusually quiet on the drive back to Dearehaven and her expression unusually forbidding. It forbade me quite successfully for the first mile and a half and then, curiosity once more overcoming discretion, I asked: ‘Who’ll win?’
‘Just what I’ve been wondering.’
‘What’s the precedent?’
‘There hasn’t been one. That’s what makes the situation so odd. I suppose some clash was bound to come eventually, with two such iron willed characters, but up till now they’ve always had each other’s measure and Elfrieda seems to have known instinctively just how far she could go and when to give in gracefully.’
‘So perhaps she will this time?’
‘One can only hope so.’
‘Although Len didn’t seem very optimistic.’
‘No, and he’s the last person to work on her; far too emotional, for a start, and he’s completely starry-eyed about Elfrieda. Well, most of them are, I suppose, but Len is also terrified about his own job, which makes him quite unfit to take her on.’
‘So stalemate?’
‘I should think so, with the line they’re pursuing at the moment. The unfortunate truth is that if Melanie sees this as her big chance to become a star overnight, then Elfrieda is likely to make sure she gets it, however absurd and unacceptable the idea may be to the rest of us. Don’t ask me why she’s got this obsession or infatuation, or whatever it is, but it’s stupid and pointless to ignore it.’
‘I won’t ask you why, because I think I can guess?’
‘Indeed? And what is your guess?’
‘For a start, Melanie reminds her of herself when young.’
‘Oh, really?’ Viola asked, looking highly amused. ‘A podgy, red-headed urchin from a remand home? I wouldn’t have called the similarities very obvious.’
‘Not in their appearance or background, I agree, except that they’ve probably both suffered from being considered hopelessly plain by their contemporaries. But they also both possess this burning passion for the theatre and it is probably just as difficult for a penniless orphan to break in as it was for an ungainly girl from a rich, puritanical family. In a sense, Elfrieda is getting her vicarious revenge against all the people who blighted her own youth.’
‘The only difference being that Elfrieda’s passion, if slightly dotty, is at least genuine.’
‘And you don’t think that’s true of Melanie?’
‘I’ve yet to be convinced of it,’ Viola replied. ‘I could be wrong, of course, but in my book she’s no more than a shrewd little opportunist, sharp enough to have hit on the right formula to get her hands on everything that’s going.’
‘If so, she’s not only shrewd, she’s a positive genius. I think, you see, Viola, that she is using another weapon which is even stronger than the others. I was watching Elfrieda when Melanie was perched on her desk, giggling and chatting. She was listening to every word and she looked really human, almost fond and foolish, you might say, and I shouldn’t be surprised if that’s where the real secret lies. During the first part of her life, Elfrieda was bullied and frustrated and now she gets awe and respect from all sides; bat she’s probably never known what it is to be on equal terms with anyone. And now along comes Melanie, who gives her affection and gratitude, but is quite irreverent; treats her, in fact, like any other jolly old auntie. It must make a change, to say the least.’
‘My word, you do have a sharp eye for the human foibles, don’t you, Tessa? I can see I shall have to watch my step.’
‘No, you won’t, and personally I can’t see that it makes much difference whether Melanie is genuine and sincere or not. So long as Elfrieda believes in her, doesn’t it amount to the same thing?’
‘Yes, there I do agree with you; and, as I mentioned before, if the wretched girl is really set on making a fool of herself in public, Elfrieda will be there to see that she does. Which is why I consider that Jamie is going quite the wrong way about it.’
‘What is the alternative?’
‘Obviously, someone must persuade Melanie that this is not what she wants at all. Simple as that.’
I agreed that this would be the happiest solution of all, though unable to see how it could be achieved any more easily than the other.
FIVE
Rehearsals for the new Crowther play, which was called Au Pair, were scheduled to begin on Tuesday, 20th May and the previous Sunday was notable for the fact that when the telephone rang, in what can only have been a mood of deep abstraction, Toby answered it himself.
‘Hallo!’ I heard him say. ‘Yes, it is . . . Rather tired, but otherwise all right, thank you. And you? No, I’m afraid I can’t tell you where she is. She could be upstairs in her room, or in the garden, or a dozen places, you know how restless the young are? . . . Yes, that’s right, and Robin too, both here . . . but he’s playing golf.’
Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I went into the hall and, with an expression of profound relief, he handed over the receiver.
‘Viola,’ he explained, ‘babbling on about having tried to ring you in London, though goodness knows why, since you’re so soon to be living in each other’s pockets. And it beats me why you don’t get an answering service.’
‘Robin is against it,’ I replied. ‘He doesn’t see why we should go to all that trouble just to make life easier for the burglars. Hallo, Viola!’
‘Stunning news,’ I announced, returning to the drawing room after another ten m
inutes. ‘Melanie has swiped the petty cash and scarpered.’
‘The delinquent orphan?’
That’s the one. Isn’t it staggering, though?’
‘Not particularly. She didn’t sound like a very stable character.’
‘She’s had no incentive to be stable up till now, but having met her and heard of her reputation, I must say that staggered is the word for what I am. She really had it made with Elfrieda. Anyone could see that the old lady was potty about her and what a fool to throw all that away for a few mouldy pounds.’
‘Is that literally all?’
‘No, to be accurate, a nice round fifty. Elfrieda made out the cheque and gave it to Jill to cash, which is the regular practice, but on this occasion Melanie happened to be present and she offered to do it. It seems she was about to set forth for her driving lesson and she said she could easily drop into the bank on her way home.’
‘And then forgot to come back with the money, I take it?’
‘Never got to the lesson either. Just drew the money and vanished. Viola’s dancing on air, needless to say. She’d just got back from London, heard the news and couldn’t wait to pass it on.’
‘When did it happen, then?’
‘Friday morning, although it was several hours before anyone really noticed. Apparently, these driving instructors are apt to be rather flexible when there’s an attractive girl behind the wheel and she often got extra time. At least Viola says Melanie always made this her excuse when she was late back, although not necessarily true.’
‘Easy enough to check, I should have thought?’
‘Except that why should anyone have bothered to, since the longer she stayed out of sight the better they liked it? All except Elfrieda, of course, and she’s still insisting that her precious lamb is innocent. Whether she actually believes it or is simply too proud to admit she’s been bamboozled, is anyone’s guess.’
‘Both attitudes equally shaky, I should have thought, in view of the small matter of the missing fifty pounds. Or does she favour the theory that the girl was mugged as she came out of the bank and is even now lying unconscious in some dark alley?’
‘They don’t have dark alleys in Dearehaven and, on the contrary, Elfrieda maintains that the cheque was never cashed. She says that when she telephoned the bank they told her it hadn’t been presented. No one believes that for a second, I might add. They assume that Elfrieda is more than willing to wave goodbye to fifty quid, as a face saver, and cheap at the price.’
‘And which version do you believe?’
‘Ah, well you see, I haven’t quite made up my mind yet. It’s true that all of them know both characters far more intimately than I do and should be in a better position to judge, and yet . . .’
‘You think they’re most likely wrong?’
‘It’s complicated by the fact that her disappearance at this stage is undeniably very convenient for them, and perhaps even for Elfrieda as well. She may have been having second thoughts about the wisdom of antagonising everyone by pushing Melanie into the part, but too proud to climb down and admit her mistake. Then there’s Jamie, isn’t there? He’s a devious man, I shouldn’t wonder, and if he’d realised that nothing was going to budge Elfrieda, he might have changed his tactics. I remember Viola remarking that they were attacking the problem from the wrong direction and the subtle thing would be to persuade Melanie to give up the part of her own accord.’
‘And what persuasion could have been used to bring that about?’
‘Money, presumably; and, if so, it could possibly be true that the cheque was never cashed. Melanie may not have needed to take that risk. Elfrieda is not the only one at the Rotunda with that sort of money to fling about. Perhaps they all chipped in? I’ll have to try and sort it out when I get there.’
‘It’s a relief to know that you’re not going to die of boredom in Dearehaven,’ Toby said. ‘As mysteries go, this one must strike you as rather tame, but at least you can use it to keep your hand in and provide yourself with a little harmless diversion.’
As it happened, though, it was to provide numerous other people, as well as myself, with a good deal more than that.
SIX
This time there was no one to meet me at Dorchester and I underwent my first experience of travelling backwards along the twenty miles of branch line. I was on the last of the six coaches, all crowded with passengers, many of them parents with children and weighed down with buckets and spades and shrimping nets.
This gave rise to a certain amount of risk and discomfort, particularly when we disembarked on to the Dearehaven platform and were herded into a tight throng round the ticket collector. I was too busy protecting my legs and my luggage to pay much attention to individuals, but on looking up at one moment to assess the numbers still ahead of me, I had a brief glimpse of one just passing through the gate. We were separated by at least thirty other people and she had her back to me, but the height matched, and so did the dress and hair. So it seemed that, after all, I was to be denied my one small diversion.
‘No, no,’ Viola said firmly, ‘she has most certainly not come back and I should be very surprised to learn that she is not already a hundred miles away. You must have been mistaken, Tessa. The police would have caught up with her long ago if she were anywhere near Dearehaven.’
‘So it’s a police matter, is it?’
‘Had to be. I feel sure Elfrieda was highly reluctant to bring them in, but technically Melanie is still on probation. Not even the great and glorious Miss Henshaw could get round that one.’
‘So what’s the position now?’
‘No change. She’s officially registered as a missing person and that’s most likely how it will stay. They think she may have headed for London, which is the easiest place of all to get lost in; but she could be absolutely anywhere; on the beach at Blackpool or walking the streets of Bristol. With fifty pounds in her pocket, plus a few other small sums she’s probably nicked off Elfrieda in her time, it wouldn’t be too difficult to disappear and I very much doubt if she’ll be bothering us again.’
‘Jamie must be pleased as punch?’
‘No doubt he is. Things were coming to a right old pass there, with him threatening to dissociate himself publicly with the production and Elfrieda still flatly refusing to back down. It’s quite the nicest thing that could have happened, from his point of view, but naturally he’s far too canny to admit it or to do any crowing. In fact, he’s being ultra charming and tactful, behaving as though Melanie’s departure were a great loss to us all and no doubt keeping his fingers crossed that it is one we shall have to learn to live with.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it.’
‘And I still say you’re wrong. It couldn’t possibly have been her you saw. Our local clodhoppers may not be in Robin’s class when it comes to the big stuff, but they’d be perfectly capable of sorting out a girl like Melanie, who happens to be one they know only too well already, if she showed her face in Dearehaven.’
This conversation took place on Monday evening, a few hours after my arrival. We were sitting on the verandah of Viola’s dinky cottage, high up on the cliff to the east of Dearehaven, which we could see spread out below and to the left of us. There was a similar and equally steep cliff head on the far side of it and the wide bay between them looked as though it had literally been scooped out of the chalk by some neat and purposeful hand.
Toby had been quite horrified by my description of the cottage and its surroundings because he has a phobia about heights, among numerous others, and is apt to suffer from giddy spells while looking at the stage from the front row of the dress circle, but in fact at no point did one have the sense of being thus perched up high on a promontory, still less of the nearby two hundred foot drop from the edge of the cliff to the beach below. Not even the tide line was visible, only a vast expanse of sea, with little boats dotted about on it, a patch or two of white froth where waves broke over a ridge of high rocks and an occasional steam ship alm
ost stationary on the horizon.
The reason for this false sense of security was that the cottage was set about fifty yards back from the cliff edge, with a strip of garden in front of it, enclosed by a high hedge whose main components seemed to be gorse and bramble. There were a few scruffy, neglected flower beds and some lumps of chalk in the corner, where someone had once started to make a rock garden, but the soil was obviously one to dishearten the most enthusiastic gardener and Viola had made no attempt to put it in order.
Still further to the east, some quarter of a mile away in the direction of the golf course, stood the large and solid Edwardian villa, the property of Jamie Crowther, separated from its only neighbour by a large garden and stretch of common land. This gave him the privacy he prized so highly, as well as plenty of opportunity for solitary exercise. He spent half his days tramping about the countryside and thought nothing of walking down to Dearehaven and back. Most of his creative inspiration, so he claimed, came to him during these lonely marches and many of his social comings and goings were also conducted on foot.
It was no accident that he had been present when I first visited Viola’s cottage, for she had explained afterwards that he enjoyed companionship in small doses and on his own terms, but only with a chosen few and that, although she was rarely invited to his house, where he led a bachelor and reclusive life, he made a regular practice of walking over to hers on any evening when she was not needed at the theatre.
She did not seem to resent this one-sided arrangement in the least, which was probably a wise and sensible attitude, and, this being Monday when she had no performance, the champagne had been on ice all day, his favourite chair placed between us, with the bag containing canvas, thimble and wool, on a table beside it. No doubt, it was precisely this kind of thoughtful attention which had done so much to advance her career to its present level.