Stiff News by Catherine Aird Read Free Book Online Page A

against the dark linenfold panelling of the ancient dining room.
    â€˜You shouldn’t have let them put them in here,’ said Miss Bentley, scarcely turning her head. ‘Most unsuitable.’
    â€˜Why not?’ protested Muriel Peden.
    â€˜Red and white,’ she said sternly.
    â€˜But…’
    â€˜Blood and bandages.’ Miss Bentley sniffed. ‘Those flowers are in even worse taste than one of Morag McBeath’s stitchings.’
    â€˜Embroidery,’ Muriel Peden corrected her. ‘And very nice it is, too. Mrs McBeath is very skilled with her needle.’
    Miss Bentley uttered something perilously close to a snort and then waved her stick in another direction. ‘Are those two young girls Gertie’s granddaughters? Because if so, you’d better divert the Judge’s attention. He hasn’t taken his eyes off them yet and he looks to me as if he’s getting thoroughly overexcited.’ She brought her walking stick back to the carpet with a bang. ‘Which is more than can be said for Captain Markyate. Ever.’
    â€˜You’ll have to excuse me, Miss Bentley.’ Matron took a deep breath and reminded herself for the hundredth time of the generation gap between herself and her charges. ‘I must ring for the next course. Everyone’s ready now.’
    â€˜Goody, goody,’ said Amanda Powell when it came. ‘I simply adore chocolate mousse.’ She looked solemnly up at the Brigadier. ‘They say chocolate gives you spots but it doesn’t.’
    â€˜Of course not,’ said that old soldier gallantly.
    â€˜They only say that,’ said Amanda matter-of-factly, ‘because actually chocolate helps love along.’
    â€˜Really?’ he said. There was clearly more of Gertie in the girl than he’d given her credit for.
    â€˜And so naturally they don’t want you to have any.’ There was no doubt about who ‘they’ were in this context. Involuntarily Amanda’s glance had swung in the direction of the window embrasure where, still slightly apart from the throng of residents, Lionel and Julia Powell were engaged in stilted conversation with the Rector.
    â€˜Shame,’ twinkled the Brigadier to Amanda, beginning to enjoy himself at long last.
    â€˜Do you know,’ she asked ingenuously, ‘what the name Amanda stands for?’
    He bent forward. ‘Tell me.’
    â€˜Love.’
    â€˜You don’t say…’
    â€˜They said Granny was very pleased when she was told that was what I was to be called.’
    â€˜She knew all about love,’ said Hamish MacIver gruffly. ‘Almost too much, you might say.’
    â€˜I didn’t think anyone could know too much about love,’ said a wide-eyed Amanda.
    â€˜Didn’t you, m’dear? Well, take it from an old soldier that you can.’
    â€˜Oh, do tell me!’ Amanda advanced a little nearer to the Brigadier and lowered her voice into an mellifluous gurgle. ‘You sound like One Who Knows…’
    It had been no part of Detective Inspector Sloan’s plans to intrude upon the Manor’s dining-room party at this stage but an old-fashioned courtesy as well as downright police curiosity demanded that he open the door for Lisa Haines, burdened as she was with a tray of bowls of dessert reinforcements. First he saw nothing but a sociable gathering but then he noticed an abrupt change in the room’s atmosphere.
    He sensed rather than saw a sudden stillness descend upon the room’s occupants. At the same time a silence fell, broken only by a woman fussing round the rugs of a man in a wheelchair. Sloan was aware, though, that the only other movement came from those who fell back slightly to clear the way for a woman clutching an elegant ebony-handled cane as she advanced upon a distinguished-looking elderly man apparently deep in conversation with a pretty young girl. It was, he felt, as if everyone else