The Boat House by Pamela Oldfield Read Free Book Online Page B

wanted that, surely.’
    ‘Unless it would help pinpoint the real killer. If Leonora had gone to stay with friends one of those might have done it.’
    ‘Fine friends they’d be!’ Judith tossed her head again but her cousin still failed to notice the bob.
    ‘Or she might,’ he said slowly, ‘have booked into a hotel under an assumed name and then fallen in with someone who eventually murdered her. Is that likely?’
    Judith hesitated. ‘Anything’s possible.’
    ‘But it wasn’t Leonora! It was someone else. A woman called Eliza Broughton.’ Donald began to pace the small room, still clutching the police reports. ‘All we can do with this information is wonder why Georgina Matlowe was so quick to identify the wrong person. If, for instance, she suspected that Neil had killed his wife, surely her instincts would be to deny that the corpse resembled Leonora. To put them off discovering the truth.’
    Judith nodded. ‘And if she didn’t suspect her son, she would be still thinking that Leonora might be with Neil . . . that they had found each other . . . and that they didn’t want Georgina to know.’
    ‘Maybe we’re missing something.’
    ‘Why don’t you go for one of your walks, Donald? It often clears your head.’
    ‘I think I will – and I’ll try and have a word with the Matlowes’ new governess. Someone on the inside would be invaluable.’
    Minutes later he left the office, and she watched him from the window as he strode purposefully along, his mind no doubt filled with exciting possibilities. ‘You’ll get there in the end,’ she muttered and turned her thoughts to the composition of poor Mrs Montini’s final letter.
    Georgina sat in the corner armchair of her sister’s service flat and watched with barely disguised irritation as the twins and the two other children raced round a circle of chairs, waiting for the music to stop. Even as a child herself, Georgina had never liked games that involved pushing, shoving or screaming. When Ivan had suggested Musical Chairs, she had groaned aloud but her sister, always a bit of a hoyden in Georgina’s opinion, had clapped her hands with delight, organized the chairs and rushed to seat herself at the ancient but well-tuned piano.
    Ivan, confined to a wheelchair, watched with excitement. He was thin and pale with huge brown eyes and his head was shaved. Sickly was the word for him, Georgina thought, regarding him uneasily. She felt a frisson of compassion but it was followed by one of satisfaction that her own grandchildren were hale and hearty.
    Screams erupted as ‘John Brown’s Body’ came to an abrupt stop and the excited children scrambled for the remaining chairs. Ida turned from the piano, laughing, to find Edie was without a seat.
    ‘Never mind, dear,’ Ida cried. ‘You can come and stand by me but first I must take away another chair! Oh, this is getting so exciting!’ She caught Georgina’s eye and winked then turned back to the piano. ‘What shall I play next?’ she asked Edie.
    ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’
    ‘Pop Goes the Weasel? Right you are! Your wish is my command!’
    Georgina did her best to ignore her surroundings and thought instead about the cook’s complaint regarding the butcher, who apparently made too many mistakes with the orders, and her suggestion they change to another butcher. It sounded sensible but Georgina was reluctant to take advice from one of the servants. She thought longingly about the days when she was younger and she and her husband entertained friends to dinner. Somehow everything had seemed to work like clockwork without all these aggravating problems – unless it was a case of distance lending enchantment to the view.
    She watched Emmie rushing red-faced around the last chair. It was a pity they took after their mother in looks and not their father – it was a permanent reminder of something she preferred to forget – but hopefully they might grow out of it. She took a surreptitious glance at