Snow in the High Atlas by Jeremy Rumfitt

Author:Jeremy Rumfitt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Thriller
Published: 2012-10-09T23:00:00+00:00

26

Melanie drove into Framlington, through the middle of the village, passed the exquisite little church, along the edge of the common, over the hump back bridge and left along the riverbank. She passed the gatehouse to the great estate looking for the entrance to the narrow lane on the opposite side of the road. She had to break sharply to make the turn.

She pulled up outside the cottage, put the map back in her bag and gathered up her things. The cottage was lovely, a real gem. She guessed it was Queen Anne but she wasn’t sure. Two storeys, red brick and flint stone, partly covered with russet coloured ivy. She loved it. It gave her a real glow.

She walked up the rose-lined path to the front door. She was about to knock when it opened. A woman in a nurse’s uniform stood in the doorway, quite young, quite pretty, with rather severe features and no smile. If the cottage had a very welcoming feel, the nurse most certainly did not.

“I’m Sister Duncan.” she said. “You must be Miss Drake.”

“Melanie Drake. I’m here to see Mr Draycott.”

“He’s expecting you.” She gestured towards an open door leading off the tiny hall. “He’s waiting in the lounge. He tires easily. I hope you won’t keep him too long.”

Melanie walked into a bright, cheerful room, which looked out onto the sunny garden. Draycott sat in a wheel chair by the window. He seemed to be asleep. He must have been handsome once, but now his features lacked definition and the drool which ran from the corner of his mouth onto his collar deprived his countenance of any semblance of nobility. He was a truly pathetic figure. Melanie knocked on the open door.

“Mr Draycott? Mr Draycott?”

He sat up with a jolt, took the piece of cloth in his hand and dabbed the moisture from his face.

“I’m awfully sorry, I must have dozed off. You must be Miss Drake? A friend of Alex? I’ve been expecting you.”

He attempted a smile but it didn’t really work.

“Melanie. Please call me Melanie.”

“Of course. And you must call me Peter. Any friend of Alex...”

His voice trailed away as he dabbed at his face again with the soiled towel. He made a gesture with his limp hand and Melanie sat on an armchair opposite him, facing out into the garden, her back to the door.

“It’s very kind of you to see me, Peter. I mustn’t tire you. The nurse said on the phone how quickly you get tired.”

“Sister Duncan?” he frowned. “She makes such a fuss”.

Maybe, Melanie thought, but the nurse was right, Peter Draycott was a seriously sick man.

“I won’t keep you long. Tell me about Alex. You were his mentor when he started out, Alex told me that, how he looked up to you. He looks up to you still.”

“Poor Alex. He should find a better role model.” His eyes smiled but his mouth didn’t move. “Tell me how I can help. If you’re not quick Sister Duncan will come and chase you away.

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