The Snow Globe by Judith Kinghorn

Author:Judith Kinghorn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-02-11T05:00:00+00:00

Mabel joined Howard on the front doorstep. She kissed Margot on the cheek—powdered, rouged and reeking of Lily of the Valley—then she watched the woman step inside the car and saw Jessop place the rug over her lap. And as the vehicle slowly pulled away, with Margot’s gloved hand raised to them, Mabel felt her husband slip his arm around her waist.

“Well, there they go,” he said as the car honked its horn and disappeared beyond the tall shrubbery.

He turned to Mabel, but before he could say anything more, she said, “We need to talk, Howard. I have something to tell you.”

Minutes later, Mabel closed the door of her boudoir and instructed her husband to sit down.

He sat down.

“I’ve decided to go away,” she began and then paused. “I’ve been here for twenty-five years, and . . . well, I feel the need for a change.”

Howard grimaced. He raised a hand to his chest, and for a moment Mabel wondered if he might be having another attack of heartburn. But she would not be put off. Not now.

“I’m going away with your sister on a tour of the continent,” she continued. “I’ll be leaving here next week . . . to stay in London with Dosia, where we’ll sort our itinerary and do some shopping; then we’ll be leaving.” She saw her husband close his eyes. “Howard?”

He stared back at her, blinked a few times.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Did you just say something about going away?”

Mabel tilted her head to one side. “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me . . . Yes, I’m going away. I’m leaving here, leaving you . . . for a while, anyway.”

“When did you decide this?”

“Oh, only recently.”

“But I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I don’t wish to talk, not now. We can talk when I return.”

“And when will that be?” he asked.

“I’m not sure . . . late spring, early summer, perhaps.”

Howard leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. “Summer . . .”

Mabel sat down. “Dosia says we need at least four or five months if we’re to do the thing properly . . . see everywhere. She says Italy alone will take far more than a month.”

“It’ll be costly.”

“I’m funding the entire expedition myself, with the money my father left me. I’ve done my sums.”

“And what about Reggie?” he asked, glancing up her. “Is he going with you?”

Mabel glanced away and affected a shrug. “He might join us at some stage . . . He thought perhaps the Riviera in late May.”

Howard lowered his head again. “And Daisy?” he asked. “She’s really far too young to be left alone here.”

“It’s all sorted. She’s going to live in London with Iris.”

“I see. But what about this place—and your mother, what about Noonie?”

“I’ve spoken with her. She’s all for it . . . insists she’ll be fine, and anyway, you will be here.”

He looked up at her: “I will be here?”

“Yes. I’m afraid you’ll have to be here, to look after my mother and to manage the place .

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