Recalled to Life by Reginald Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

excellence. You only send your best to spy on your friends. His marriage we may assume was a love match. Pamela Westropp was a penniless American widow with a three-year-old son and no rating on the social register. She was very attractive. She was also wilful, witty, madcap, moody, impulsive and obstinate, a mix of qualities which can be fascinating or repellent, depending whether you're buying or selling.
'The best man at the Westropps' wedding was Ralph Mickledore, who improved the acquaintance of his friend's new wife during the course of many extended visits over the next four years. By then of course the twins had arrived, and with them, Cecily Kohler. How soon her special relationship with "Mick" Mickledore developed is open to speculation, but some old girlfriend of hers dug up by the papers at the time of the trial recalled she had been adamant when she took the job that she wasn't going to work abroad, so clearly something happened to change her mind.
'These, then, were the actors. Let us move on to the act.
'The single great pastime of a Mickledore weekend was shooting things. Male guests could expect to find themselves within minutes of arrival standing up to their ankles in mud destroying whatever the law permitted them to destroy at the time of year, even if it were only rabbits and pigeons.
'Female guests were permitted a short settling-in period, after which they were expected to be as keen for the slaughter as their menfolk.
'Jessica Partridge was as good a shot as most men and a lot better than my father, who suffered some heavy ribbing for his ineptitude. It didn't help that my mother, though not keen on killing things, had done a lot of skeet shooting in her youth and was a pretty fair shot. It was Pam Westropp who was the real dunce. She had no moral objections but very low motor skills, often forgetting to reload or attempting to fire with the safety on. And when she did get it right she rarely hit anything she aimed at.
'But not for this was she spared the rigours of the sport. And no one was spared its responsibilities, prime among which was that each guest took care of his or her own weapon, cleaning it after each shoot before replacing it on its chain in the gunroom.
'At some point after dinner Mickledore would ask in his best Orderly Officer fashion if they'd all done their fatigues. It was no use lying. The last thing he did before going to bed was check the gunroom and if he found anything not in order, he did not hesitate to haul the culprit, regardless of sex or standing, out of bed to put matters right.
'The gunroom was situated at the far eastern end of the guest corridor on the first floor, and was also reachable by a side stair ascending from the old kitchen hall which was used as a gathering and disrobing point for shooting parties, thus keeping muddy boots and dripping oilskins out of the main body of the house.
'The same stair continued up to the second floor where the children and their nannies slept.
'The gunroom was heavily panelled, windowless, and had a double door. Guests were issued with Yale keys for the outer door, while the larger key for the inner mortice lock was concealed on a narrow ledge above the inner door. After cleaning, guests were expected to replace their weapons on the wall rack, and secure them with a self-locking hasp which pivoted to fit just above the trigger guard. Only Mickledore had a key to unlock these hasps. In other words, guests put their guns away but could not take them out again unaided by their host.
'The weekend had started early, everyone having contrived to arrive by Friday lunch-time. We had all been to Mickledore Hall before, so no time was wasted by either children or adults in learning the rules. The older children spent most of the afternoon having a super time on the lake with Cissy Kohler, while Miss Marsh sat on the bank, knitting and looking after the two infants. The adults too seem to have had a good time if my memory of the atmosphere