The Store by Michael Pearson

Author:Michael Pearson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Harrods, historic novel
Published: 2013-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

7

A few hours later, May sat at the escritoire in her little writing-room, unable to keep her eyes from the thick, creased envelope, containing the affidavits of Thomas’ liaison, which Bob Ramsay - following her summons - had just left with her. At first, of course, he thought that May had sent for him in order to surrender. As Brandon had shown him into the room, there had been a swagger in the way he carried himself. His face had borne the usual, twisted smile.

She had wasted no time, using the fewest possible words, feeling a strange contamination in his presence that made even talking to him distasteful. ‘Those are your affidavits?’ she had asked, referring to the package he carried under his arm.

‘That’s right, Sister May,’ he had said, grinning, 'I’m just going to show you one document,’ she had gone on calmly, ‘which is enough to send you to prison. Then I want you to go, leaving behind you those affidavits.’

‘Now Sister May...’ he had begun.

‘Look!’ She had rapped out the word loudly, cutting him off in mid-sentence as she had thrust Blackthorn’s statement at him. And he had looked, the colour draining from his cheeks as he read the bare, obscene description of his couplings with his former lover. ‘By God, you’re a quiet one!’ he had said, 'I'd never have believed it. How in the world did you get this?’ She knew his mind was racing, searching desperately for an avenue of escape - and saw the expression of sudden relief when he thought he had found a straw of hope. 'It incriminates him, too, doesn’t it?’ he had declared, his eyes brightening. ‘He’d go to jail, too, wouldn’t he?’ Already he was smiling again. ‘Didn’t think of that did he? Always was a bit silly in the head was Terence... Always did seem to...’ His words tailed off as May shrugged, indicating that Blackthorn’s predicament was irrelevant to her. The uncertainty returned to his eyes, for he had never seen her like this - coldly, ruthlessly determined. The sister who had retrieved him from all those escapades when he was a youth was now an enemy, implacable, utterly without emotion. ‘A proper tigress, eh?’ he said. ‘That’s what you’ve become isn’t it, May?... Claws out to kill... You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you? You’d go to the police, even though I am your brother?’

She had just gazed back at him, unblinking. The movement of her head, that confirmed the truth of what he said, was barely perceptible. For a few seconds neither of them spoke. ‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘I suppose you win, Sister May... You always win...’

He was still holding the package of affidavits he had brought and now she held out her hands for it. Almost involuntarily he handed her the big, thick envelope, looking at her once more, his eyes marked by a pleading to her to say one word to him of consolation. It was an expression she remembered from their youth, when he had been upset by her anger, and now it left her untouched.

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