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

and Lord Partridge's of the events can be relied on. I should say now that nothing I have read in the lengthy chapter on that weekend in his lordship's memoirs In A Pear Tree is contradicted by my own recollection, though naturally for much of the time we moved in mutually exclusive spheres.
'For us children, Saturday started where Friday had left off, only better. But for the adults things had taken a downturn. We felt it in our brief contact with them in the morning and, like wise children, we made ourselves scarce. Lord Partridge in his memoirs recalls a sense of fractiousness, of barely repressed irritation, of hidden meanings, with Pamela Westropp at its centre. With hindsight he guesses her real anger was aimed at Mickledore, and, unable to contain it, she did her best to conceal its object by scattering its manifestations indiscriminately, though, as was to be expected, her husband came in for more than his fair share.
'It was, of course, too early in the year for any serious shooting, but the whole party, male and female, were taken on a tour of the estate and given the chance to blast away at whatever Mickledore designated as vermin. Fresh air and killing things did surprisingly little to improve their spirits. And when they returned to the house in the late afternoon they heard the news that Stephen Ward had died.
'The previous night, according to Partridge, as if by mutual agreement no one had mentioned the Profumo affair or the Ward trial. Saturday night was different. Pamela Westropp wouldn't leave the subject. She went on about the hypocrisy of the British Establishment which had hounded him to his death. And she said, "Of course, Mick, you knew him pretty well, didn't you?"
"I suppose I did," said Mickledore, unperturbed. "But then so did a lot of us here, I imagine."
He looked around as he spoke. Westropp as usual gave nothing away. My father, I would guess, attempted to look as if he'd been a long-time member of the Ward/Cliveden set. Rampling said cheerfully, "Hell, yes, I met the guy, but it was one of your judges that introduced me. I'd have paid more heed if I'd known he was the top people's pimp!" And Partridge himself, who'd met Ward several times but naturally wasn't anxious to advertise the fact in view of recent events, kept quiet and hoped he wasn't being got at.
'But clearly it was Mickledore who was Pam's chosen target.
'"I suppose you think he deserved everything he got?" she pursued.
' "I think he broke the one law of the tribe he wanted to belong to," said Mickledore.
'"Which was?"
'And Mickledore laid his finger across his lips.
'Some time later, it was certainly after eleven for they all remember having heard the stable clock strike, Mickledore made his usual inquiry about "gun fatigues". Pam Westropp said defiantly that no, she hadn't cleaned hers, and was she expected to wash her own dinner dishes too? Nevertheless, after another couple of drinks she said she supposed she'd better get it over with, and stood up. Her husband rose too, rather unsteadily, having stuck doggedly to Mickledore's coat tails during a wide-ranging tour of the delights of his cellar. It took a hard head and a pair of hollow legs to keep up with Mick when he was in the drinking mood. According to Westropp's later statement, he went upstairs with his wife, offered to help her clean her gun, was told she was quite capable of performing her own menial tasks, staggered into his bed- room, got undressed, fell into bed and knew no more till awoken by the disturbance later on.
'Downstairs, Jessica Partridge was ready for bed too, but her husband said he was looking forward to a game of billiards with Mickledore. Warning him not to disturb her, Jessica left accompanied by my mother, Marilou. My father, who liked to claim he needed less sleep than ordinary mortals, said he fancied a stroll around the estate with his pipe, a mode of behaviour he probably picked up from the novels of Dornford Yates.
'Scott Rampling asked if he