The Gay Phoenix by Michael Innes

Author:Michael Innes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Gay Phoenix
ISBN: 9780755120963
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2012-05-18T00:00:00+00:00

It was perhaps in the interest of this proposal that Judith made a detour by Brockholes on the way home. It was a course of action not wholly consistent with the attitude she had hinted to her husband’s impulse of curiosity earlier that day. But as she now knew Mr Charles Povey to be absent in London it couldn’t be averred that she was endeavouring to take a peep at him. And a peep at the house – she pointed out to herself – was another matter. It was a long time since she had taken a look at it. And it held an authentic architectural interest in a minor way.

Brockholes Abbey wasn’t, of course, an abbey. Its stone hadn’t even been quarried out of the ruins of one, since by the time it was built any such ruins there may have been had long since disappeared into dykes and hovels and pigsties. According to the learned Dr Dunton there had never been an abbey at all, but only a minor farm served by lay brethren belonging to a great Cistercian monastery eighty miles away. But since the site had at least vague ecclesiastical associations, whoever had built the existing house had judged Brockholes Abbey to be a reasonable and dignified name for it. The same general idea had led to its being designed – although only half-heartedly – in a pseudo-mediaeval idiom. It was really a great big square box with Gothic screens and curtains and bits and pieces tagged on. There was a tower which was said to afford an admirable view of the surrounding countryside.

The property ran to a small park, and it was on rising ground commanding this that Judith brought her car to a halt. The house, which thus stood revealed at a middle distance, exhibited nothing remarkable, except that half a dozen cars, vans and lorries were scattered around in front of it. What was striking was an activity going on round the perimeter of the whole place, and at this point near completion. This was a wire fence of inordinate height – it must be a full ten feet – and curving over at the top in a manner suggesting the sort of structure designed to discourage the egress of dangerous animals from a zoological park. Here, however, the curve was outward-facing, as if the animals were to be prevented not from leaving but from entering. The operation must be costing a great deal of money – there was a small army at work on it now – and was wildly incongruous with the surrounding peacefully rural scene. One would conjecture Brockholes to be in the occupancy of some section of the investigating classes dedicated to exploring the possibilities of chemical warfare or nuclear fission. John hadn’t reported this phenomenon; he had perhaps entered the place by the main avenue on the other side of the house, where these appearances were as yet not obvious.

There was only one possible conclusion:

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