Corpse in a Gilded Cage by Robert Barnard Read Free Book Online Page A

bulk out of her chair like an ageing coalman.
    â€˜Well, no peace for the wicked. I’m going to serve up down there, and you can come and get it in ten minutes. You—whatsyername?—Sam: you look as if you could bring up three or four. And Chokey and Perce, you can bring up the rest.’
    â€˜The kids can fetch their own,’ said Dixie. And in what passed with her for sotto voce added: ‘And if any of you spill one drop of gravy on them Persian carpets . . .’
    As the Countess waddled out, the Earl resumed his discourse, determined that his intentions should be entirely understood.
    â€˜No—as I say, it’s sell out and get out. Sale of the century, everything must go. Old Lillywaite tried to bring Phil into it, but I said to him: “I wouldn’t expect him to consult me if he was selling his house, and I won’t be consulting him when I sell mine.” ’
    â€˜Still,’ said Dixie, who had been very thoughtful in the last few minutes, since the Earl had started explaining his intentions, ‘you could go and talk it over with Phil, Dad. It’s not far, and he’d love to see you. And he is the heir.’
    â€˜Heir, my Aunt Fanny,’ said Lord Ellesmere. ‘That’s one old Lillywaite tried to pull. I said to him—’
    But he was interrupted by the telephone. He looked wildly round in several directions, trying to remember where the nearest extension was. Then he darted through the doors into the Green Drawing-Room and grabbed up the receiver.
    â€˜Hello, Mr Lillywaite. Talk of the . . . your name was on our lips.’
    The phone was on a Chippendale side table on the wall near the door. Sam had moved away when the call came through, and the Earl now stood in the doorway, smirking at his children.
    â€˜Yes, thank you, Mr Lillywaite: Lady Joan has arrived . . . And the Honourable Trevor.’
    â€˜Whoops! There goes my reputation again,’ said Trevor, giving his father a tremendous smirk in return. But Joan merely responded with a dignified smile. It was, after all, the first time she had heard the title used. She had had a vague feeling that it might have been abolished by the last Labour government.
    â€˜You’ve arranged to see Phil, have you? . . . Tomorrow afternoon?. . . Quite all right with me, mate . . . and with Dixie, I’m sure . . . She was just saying Phil enjoyed having visitors . . . Say “keep your chin up” from us, will you? And say we’ll see him in three weeks’ time, when he’s out . . . Oh, and Lillywaite: it won’t make a ha’porth of difference, you know.’
    He put down the phone in high good humour, and came back into the Dining-Room, rubbing his hands.
    â€˜Never did like lawyers. He’s batting on a sticky wicket if he thinks he can make trouble between Phil and me. Phil’s a good lad.’
    â€˜Too bloody good, sometimes,’ muttered Dixie to herself. But she turned to the Earl casually, and said: ‘What did you say his name was, Dad?’
    Joan looked down at her hands, and tightened her mouth.
    â€˜Lillywaite. Pompous old twerp he is too. Well, come on, Sam, come on, Chokey. Turkey up. You going to come and get yours, my little darlings?’
    And the Earl and his helpers bustled off to the kitchen. In the Dining-Room a sudden hush fell, and then they all started making their way, awkwardly, to the table.
    â€˜Isn’t it lovely?’ said Dixie, in a voice that was most un-Dixie.
    â€˜Oh, look at that,’ said Joan, vexed. ‘They’ve got all the knives and spoons the wrong way round.’
    â€˜Put us all right, then, Joanie,’ shrilled Dixie, instantly her normal self. ‘We didn’t know you’d been in domestic service.’
    Joan and Digby, both giving tense little smiles, went round the table from place to place, rearranging