Dear Trustee by Mary Burchell

Author:Mary Burchell [Burchell, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VII

The surprise was so complete, the blow to her temporary sense of security so totally unexpected, that for a moment Cecile could only stare at him in wordless dismay.

“How did you know?” she asked at last. “You must be a mind reader.”

“Oh, no.” He laughed. “Nothing so dashing as that. It was quite simple, really. When your mother left me, to go out of the flat and see what you were doing, I strolled to the window to look out at the view. I went on standing there when she returned, and, while she was pouring me another drink, I happened to glance out of the window—”

“Oh—” Cecile put the back of her hand against her mouth.

“I saw Felicity come out of the house, cross the road and walk quickly away. Then you came in—rather pale and scared-looking, as you are now—and told us that story about a stranger mistaking the house. It didn’t exactly ring true, Cecile, in the circumstances.”

“N-no. I see it wouldn’t. I forgot the window looked on the street. And you were standing there when I came in. I remember now.”

“Quite so,” he said, and waited. But all the inventive part of her mind seemed to have gone blank.

What was she to tell him? The truth was impossible. And yet nothing even remotely plausible came into her mind.

“I thought it all rather mysterious. I still do.” He was smiling faintly, she saw, and apparently not yet taking the matter very seriously. Only, he was curious.

“It was—nothing—really.” She made a tremendous effort to look casually amused in her turn, but she felt that she managed no more than a stiff and nervous little smile. “Felicity thought I was away from home, and she came to see Laurie—”

“Do they know each other, then?” The question was quite gently posed, but the tone of his voice had altered subtly and Cecile knew she had made a bad start.

“I don’t know. Yes, I suppose they must.” Cecile strove to make that sound light and unconcerned.

“If Felicity and Laurie know each other, they must have also recognized each other when Laurie looked over the banisters, to enquire what was happening. Why then did Laurie let you tell that story about a stranger calling?”

“Oh—” Cecile saw her mistake too late. “I don’t know—I mean—of course, they couldn’t know each other, could they?”

“I’m asking you,” he reminded her drily.

“Well, then, obviously Laurie didn’t know Felicity. I—I had gone halfway down the stairs to meet Felicity. She was very much taken aback to see me. I thought perhaps she wanted to speak to you—that she had recognized your car outside. But when I suggested that, she said ‘no’, and she seemed a good deal put out at the discovery that you were there—”

She paused and took a deep breath at this point, but he said, with deceptive gentleness, “Go on.”

He gave her a skeptical glance as he said that, however, which made it difficult to struggle on. But Cecile had grasped the thread of a remotely possible story at last, and nothing was going to make her let go.

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