Clubbed to Death by Ruth Dudley Edwards Read Free Book Online Page A

lot of stairs were very narrow and sported bare boards. He climbed them sadly until finally he reached a low corridor, which many years ago had been decorated in dark brown: the paint had been flaking off for years. A dim light enabled him to find room seventeen. It was locked. Amiss tapped softly but there was no answer. He felt tempted to cry but that wasn’t going to solve his immediate problem. Instead, he sat down on his suitcase and fell asleep.
    An hour later he was awakened by Sunil, who unlocked the door and ushered him in apologetically. ‘Sorry, I was in the library. Didn’t Ramsbum give you a key?’
    ‘No. Should he have?’
    ‘He really is such a miserable old bastard. Oh, well, you’ll just have to get it off him tomorrow. Meanwhile, welcome to our happy home.’
    Amiss had by now become so accustomed to the horrors of ffeatherstonehaugh’s that the appearance of their bedroom came as no surprise. It contained two narrow iron bedsteads furnished with dingy bed-linen and grey army blankets. The tiny window had dusty, sagging black curtains which he guessed must be black-out curtains from the Second World War. There was one small woodworm-infested wardrobe, which could be reached only by squeezing with great difficulty past a huge, dirty-pink chest of drawers and a marble washstand with a big enamel jug and basin. The floor had mottled dark brown lino but sported an unexpectedly cheerful Afghan rug. Equally cheerful was the large, garish picture on the wall of a jovial elephant wearing orange pantaloons, an elaborately jewelled headdress and several necklaces: his four arms were festooned with bangles and bracelets. Attractive young women fanned him as he simultaneously read, wrote, waved an axe and held a flower aloft.
    Sunil saw the direction of Amiss’s gaze. ‘This is Ganesh, ’ he said. ‘He’s my only friend here. He is a Hindu god of great joie de vivre .’
    ‘I presume that neither he nor the rug were provided by the management,’ said Amiss.
    ‘You presume rightly. Now to the division of space. That’s your bed on the left and you can have the two bottom drawers of the chest.’
    Amiss heaved his suitcase on to his bed, unlocked it and began to unpack.
    ‘Why is Ganesh an elephant? Or do I mean, why is an elephant a god?’
    ‘Because Shiva, his father, who’d been away for a long time, found him in the wife’s bedroom on his return and assumed that he was her toyboy. Shiva is a bad-tempered chap – not for nothing is he known as “the Destroyer”. He chopped his son’s head off on the spot. Mother was furious and demanded the situation be put to rights. The only way that Father could do this was by giving his son the head of the first living creature he met, which happened to be an elephant. However, that handicap never held Ganesh back. He made the most of things.’
    ‘Are you religious, Sunil?’
    ‘Anything but. Don’t worry. You’ll be spared the flowers and the incense-burning and general carry-on. But some aspects of my family religion and culture appeal to me. Here, let me help. It’s very hard to get clothes into this wardrobe until you get the knack.’ Deftly he inserted Amiss’s suit and sports jacket into the minuscule space.
    Amiss finished flinging the rest of his belongings into the allocated drawers and lay down on his bed. ‘So why are you in a dump like this?’
    ‘I was about to ask you the same question.’
    ‘I want to be a poet.’
    ‘I want to be a novelist, but first I want to get a degree and ffeatherstonehaugh’s makes that possible.’
    ‘Do you drink?’ Amiss took out of his pocket the hip-flask that Pooley had thrust upon him as he left. ‘Whisky, that is.’
    ‘Rarely and very little,’ said Sunil, ‘for pragmatic reasons. However, I’ll make an exception in this case,’ and he accepted the hip-flask, took a swig and returned it.
    ‘So are you actually at university?’
    ‘Yes, indeed.’ Sunil began to undress. ‘I’m taking