Getting Away With Murder by Pat Herbert

Author:Pat Herbert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Getting Away With Murder, Pat Herbert, Traditional British thriller, Women, suspense, thriller, suffragettes, murder mystery, detective
ISBN: 9781785384400
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2016-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

August 1958: Nottingham

The woman sat still and straight in the chair opposite Marianne. She was stick thin, somewhere in her late fifties or early sixties, a permanent expression of disapproval on her face. She stared at Marianne, then around her at the small cell-like room, and up at the barred window. Finally her eyes rested on the man in white who sat on guard by the door.

“Hmm,” she said, “this ain’t an improvement, Marianne. I’d be lying if I said it was. You were much better off in Denmark ’ill. I’ve told you many times about your temper. You let it get the better of you. You ain’t a mental case, we both know that, but you be’ave as if you was.”

“They deserve it. All men deserve it,” said Marianne, playing with her long plait of chestnut hair. Her amber eyes flashed a look at the man at the door; he was sitting there, in judgment of her; what right had he, or any man, to do that? He didn’t return her gaze, preferring to study his feet. He knew about this woman’s penchant for attacking the male sex with knives, and he was decidedly nervous.

“They do, love, and that’s a fact,” said the older woman, reaching across to touch Marianne’s knee. “But you mustn’t cut your nose off to spite your face. I now ’ave to travel all this way to see you and I’m not well. My legs are playing me up again.”

Marianne gave her a supercilious stare. “You don’t have to come to visit me. No one’s holding a gun to your head.”

“But I want to come and see you, you know I do. I ’ave your best interests at heart, I always ’ave.”

“I know,” said Marianne, her eyes suddenly softening as she looked into her visitor’s eyes. “I love you. You’re the only one I love in this wide, wicked world.”

“I love you too,” replied Clara Brown. Her eyes were still hard, but there was an imperceptible curve in her spine now. Marianne could see just how much she cared.

“I couldn’t love you more if you were my real mother,” said Marianne.

“I ’ave been, to all intents and purposes,” replied Clara. “I’ve known you from the day you came out of your poor mother’s womb.”

“I’m glad you were there while I was growing up in that orphanage. The nuns were all right, I suppose, but they were so strict and hardly said a kind word to me, not for all the years I was there. When I met Barney, that was the saving of me –” She paused, gulping back the lump that had risen in her throat.

Clara got up and started to walk stiffly around the little room. “Just stretching my poor old legs,” she said to the white coat by the door. “Got rheumatism something awful. You been listening to our conversation, then?”

The man’s face paled to almost the colour of his coat. He had had no alternative but to hear what they were saying; and he knew his sex was against him.

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