The Fallen Curtain by Ruth Rendell Read Free Book Online

lead him into the dining room and again he saw the woman give her husband one of those looks that are the equivalent of prompting nudges. Hugo was probably getting cold feet. In these cases, of course, it was always the women who were more aggressive. Duncan gave a swift glance at the table and the plate of hors d’oeuvres, sardines and anchovies and artichoke hearts, most unsuitable for the time of year.
    “I’m afraid you’ve been to a great deal of trouble, Elizabeth,” he said graciously.
    She gave him a dazzling smile. He had forgotten that smile of hers, how it lit her whole face, her eyes as flashing blue as a kingfisher’s plumage. “‘The labour we delight in,’” she said, “‘physics pain.’”
    “Ah,
Macbeth.”
Good, an excellent topic to get them through the first course. “Do you know, the only time we three ever went to the theatre together was to see
Macbeth?”
    “I remember,” she said. “Bread, Duncan?”
    “Thank you. I saw a splendid performance of
Macbeth
by that Polish company last week. Perhaps you’ve seen it?”
    “We haven’t been to the theatre at all this winter,” said Hugo.
    She must have kicked him under the table to prompt that one. Duncan took no notice. He told them in detail about thePolish
Macbeth
, although such was his mounting tenseness that he couldn’t remember half the names of the characters or, for that matter, the names of the actors.
    “I wish Keith could have seen it,” she said. “It’s his set play for his exam.”
    She was going to force him to ask after her sons and be told they had had to take them away from that absurdly expensive boarding school. Well, he wouldn’t. Rude it might be, but he wouldn’t ask.
    “I don’t think you ever met our children, Duncan?”
    “No, I didn’t.”
    “They’ll be home on half-term next week. I’m so delighted that their half-term happens to coincide with mine.”
    “Yours?” he said suspiciously.
    “Elizabeth has gone back to teaching.”
    “Really?” said Duncan. “No, I won’t have any more, thank you. That was delicious. Let me give you a hand. If I could carry something …?”
    “Please don’t trouble. I can manage.” She looked rather offended. “If you two will excuse me I’ll see to our main course.”
    He was left alone with Hugo in the chilly dining room. He shifted his legs from under the cloth to bring them closer to the one-bar electric heater. Hugo began to struggle with the cork of the wine bottle. Unable to extract it, he cursed under his breath.
    “Let me try.”
    “I’ll be able to cope quite well, thanks, if you don’t watch me,” said Hugo sharply, and then, irrelevantly if you didn’t know nothing those two said was irrelevant, “I’m doing a course in accountancy.”
    “As a wine waiter, Hugo,” said Duncan, “you make a very good accountant, ha ha!”
    Hugo didn’t laugh. He got the cork out at last. “I think I’ll do all right. I was always reasonably good at figures.”
    “So you were, so you were. And more than reasonably good.” That was true. It had been with personnel that the man was soabysmally bad, giving junior executives and little typists ideas above their station. “I’m sure you’ll do well.” Why didn’t the woman come back? It must have been ten minutes since she had gone off to that kitchen, down those miles of passages. His own wife, long dead, would have got that main course into serving dishes before they had sat down to the hors d’oeuvres. “Get a qualification, that’s the thing,” he said. In the distance he heard the wheels of a trolley coming. It was a more welcome sound than that of the wheels of the train one has awaited for an hour on a cold platform. He didn’t like the woman but anything was better than being alone with Hugo. Why not get it over now, he thought, before they began on the amazingly small roasted chicken which had appeared? He managed a smile. He said, “I can tell you’ve both fallen on your