The Skeleton in the Closet by M.C. Beaton

Author:M.C. Beaton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2000-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Six

MAGGIE looked up as Fell came in. His face looked grey. “What’s the matter?” she asked sharply. “No inheritance?”

“It’s just the heat,” said Fell. “Leave me alone.” He sank down on the ruined sofa and stared bleakly ahead.

Maggie went into the kitchen. She made a cup of coffee and tipped a measure of whisky into it. She took it in and handed it to Fell. “Drink that,” she ordered. “It’s good for shock.”

“I haven’t had a shock,” protested Fell.

But he drank the coffee while Maggie watched him. “Was it something in the newspaper?” asked Maggie. “I was worried about you. You were away for ages.”

Fell pulled a crumpled copy of the newspaper from his pocket. He had bought another one. Maggie smoothed it out. “Oh, I do look good,” she exclaimed. “Doesn’t look like me at all.” She read quickly. “It’s just a straightforward account. So it can’t be that. It’s something you don’t want to talk about, isn’t it, Fell?”

He nodded.

“Then we won’t talk about it,” said Maggie briskly. “Action is the best thing. If you’ve finished your coffee, we’ll go to that furniture place. And we’d better get a locksmith to put a lock on the door and perhaps a burglar alarm. I’ll look up the business directory, shall I?”

Fell nodded dumbly.

He sat, aware of Maggie’s voice on the phone, but lost in thoughts about Melissa. He should have known she was after his money. Maggie replaced the receiver. “A man from a security firm out on the estate will be round at four this afternoon. Come on, dear, let’s get moving.”

Fell followed her out. How odd that it should be so sunny. It ought to be black and cold and raining. Somehow the sunshine intensified pain. He got into Maggie’s little car feeling stiff and old, as if the hurt had invaded his bones like a kind of emotional rheumatism.

Melissa, thought Maggie bitterly. I could kill her!

She said nothing, but drove to the second-hand furniture shop. “You choose what you think we ought to have,” said Fell.

“If you’re sure. You’re the one that’s going to be living with it.”

“I’m sure.” Fell offered a lame excuse. “It’s just the heat, Maggie, and delayed shock about finding out about my real parents.”

Maggie hesitated. “Before I choose anything, Fell, you once said you would like to turn the living room into a large kitchen and use the sitting room as a living room. It would cost a bit, but you could get the wall between the kitchen and the living room knocked down and make it all into one big kitchen.”

Fell remembered his dream of a warm country kitchen. “Good idea. But you’re right. We’ll start using the sitting room.”

They went into the huge shop together. Despite his misery, Fell was surprised at the quality of the furniture. Some of it was antique and very expensive indeed. “I’ll just sit here,” said Fell, taking a chair at the door. “Get what you think is best.”

Maggie hesitated a moment and then went off.

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