So Bad a Death by June Wright Read Free Book Online Page B

want to quote, make it quite clear you are doing so.” She placed the palms of her hands firmly on the table. “Now, Mrs Matheson, can you act?”
    I blinked up at the large-chinned face bending over me.
    â€œI run the dramatic side of our organization,” she explained, as Mrs Gurney laughingly left me in her clutches. “Every year we do either scenes from Shakespeare or a farce. It is Shakespeare’s turn this year. You must be in it. I am so short of tall girls for the male parts.”
    â€œI don’t think I’d be any good,” I said, watching Yvonne Holland half-rise and then sit down again, as though she had changed her mind.
    â€œNonsense!” Mrs Parkes said vigorously. “With your background of drama you will be just the thing. Connie said you were a detective or something before you got married. All you have to do is to be perfectly natural in your rôle. As Shakespeare says, ‘All the world’s a stage.’ Now what sort of part would you like?”
    â€œA murderer,” I said.
    â€œA murderer? Now let me see. Yes, we are doing a scene from Richard III. I should be able to fit you in nicely. It is such a pleasure to find someone so enthusiastic. Not like dear Brenda. She was always making fun at rehearsals. President or no, I had to get her to resign from the dramatic society. It really caused quite—”
    â€œExcuse me,” I said, getting up. Yvonne Holland had slipped away from the official table; under cover of serving the afternoon tea, she was making for the back of the hall. I followed her. She sat down near the door, holding her cup aslant so that the tea spilled into the saucer, soaking one of Connie’s ham sandwiches.
    â€œI couldn’t stand any more either,” I told her, as I sat down beside her. “Is it always so grim?”
    â€œI don’t have to come often,” she replied hesitantly. “Usually Mrs Mulqueen or Ursula does. But Mr Holland wanted me to come today. He is closing this hall,” she went on jerkily, dropping her lashes over sudden tears. “I had to tell them. It was so awful standing up in front of them all. I’m sure they thought it was my fault.”
    â€œHe gave you the unpleasant task of breaking the news on purpose?” I queried.
    The girl nodded.
    The handbell on the table was rung again and again and the stolid-looking woman in the horn-rimmed glasses stood up and started to rattle off a quantity of notices of future activities.
    â€œClosing this place doesn’t seem to have mattered much,” I observed.
    The secretary on the stage took off her glasses and peered down to where we were sitting. “If everyone kindly listened to the announcements maybe I wouldn’t have to repeat myself.” She replaced her glasses and went on with the notices.
    â€œLet’s get out of here,” I suggested to Yvonne.
    â€œI can’t,” she whispered back. “Mr Holland—”
    â€œRot,” I said, pulling her up.
    The horn-rimmed secretary paused again.
    â€œShe has just remembered she left the gas on,” I explained, pushing Yvonne out the door.
    â€œSpare me from women in bulk,” I said, when safely outside.
    We strolled over the grass together. Groups of children were playing among the garden seats under the trees. Tony was having toys snatched from him by a flaxen-haired little girl in a very short frock.
    â€œWould you like to see my baby?” Yvonne asked shyly. “You didn’t that day, did you? He is just over here.”
    â€œWho is that with the children? And why must she sit on the ground? She looks appalling.”
    â€œMiss Potts-Power,” Yvonne answered, with a faint sparkle in her voice. “She is on the crêche committee. She loves children.”
    â€œAnd tells everyone so. I know the type.”
    I watched the dumpy girl on the lawn endeavouring to draw Tony onto her knee, one hand brushing