Concluding (10 page)

"Why don't you use the tree Mr Birt found Merode under?" she asked.

"Not dead enough," he said.

"But you'd have more wood. You are silly," she said, while he examined her youth. It made him think of a ripe plum, on a hot day, against green leaves on a wall.

"Mr Birt found her. There's a laugh," she began again. They stood watching each other comfortably.

"How d'you look so cool?" he asked.

"He would," she said about the finding. When this drew no comment she went on in a lazy way, "Because I'm not hot, not yet, silly. I don't wear all the clothes you do," she added, shifting the position of her hip.

He had a fallen branch to cut into faggots, and he set to work once more.

"Let me help," she said, though she made no move forward. When he did not answer, she repeated, "Let me." He's a hundred if he's a day, she said to herself.

"Just leave an old fellow get on with what he's about," he said.

"All that wood's for Daise, isn't it?" she asked. "Well, I'm not stopping anyone."

"Yes, for Daisy's swill," he answered. "To boil it. Too many won't trouble, which is the cause of so much of this filthy swine fever." She nibbled at one of the azaleas in her arms. She knew she made a picture, but he paid no attention. She waved away a bee.

"Have you seen your cat?" she enquired.

"No. She's all right I trust?" he said, not looking up.

"Oh, in her glory," the girl replied. "At the Institute, of course, with Ma Marchbanks. She'd better look out for herself, though. The Marchbanks mayn't know it, but Edge and Baker's back."

"Are they . . . ?" he asked, and drew himself up to his full height, but checked his tongue in time. "Why, what about my animal?"

"They don't like pussy cats, those two, do they?" she answered.

"Two faced, cats are," he said, watching her closely. She took a whole azalea right into her mouth. "Cupboard love," he said, and wiped his spectacles.

"Why shouldn't I, if I want. They taste good," she said, after she had got rid of the flower into a hand and dropped it behind her back.

"Not you," he said.

"Cats."

"What's cupboard love, exactly?" she asked, knowing full well, but to cover herself.

"Greed, that's all."

"You are queer, Mr Rock," she said.

There was a pause while he put his spectacles on once more. "Have  they come upon the other girl yet?" the  old man enquired, getting on with his task. "Or why have they returned?"

"Mary, oh I know where she is," Moira told him.

"Where's that?" Mr Rock quietly demanded.

"She's down under water in the lake of course," the girl said.

"Is she now?" this old man commented, but did not look up from what he was at. "Have you been to see?"

She gave a small, affected shriek. "Me? Who d'you think I am? Oh, I simply couldn't."

"Then how d'you come by your information?"

"That's easy," the girl said. "Winstanley asked permission for the staff to bathe as today's a holiday, and Ma Marchbanks said better not, because Mary was drowned in it."

"When did you learn?" he enquired, selecting another stick to chop.

"Why everyone's heard." A silence fell.

"Where's George Adams at work?" Mr Rock asked next.

"He's to fetch the pine trees she wants round the Hall for tonight. We're to put salt over to look like snow. Only Miss Edge won't be so keen. Why?"

"Because in that case I should have thought he would be better employed if he dragged the water," Mr Rock said. He was watching the girl now.

"Oh Mr Rock you are dreadful, really," she cried out. "The horrible things you think."

"Dear, dear," he said, and bent down again. There was a pause.

"What did you make of it when Mr Birt found Merode?" she once more asked, with a giggle. He made no reply.

"She told me all," she went on. "You see, they'd locked her into the bathrooms so she could have a good cry, you know what a tremendous cry baby she is, but there's a grating on the floor above, or there's two, one above and one underneath. Anyway Matron hasn't discovered yet, so I was able to get on to Merode."

"Moira," he said uneasily, "you'll grow up an old maid."

She laughed out loud. "Me?" she said. "I don't think," largely understating this. "Why, Mr Rock?"

"Because you will."

"No, why?"

"All this chitter chatter."

"But I'm only explaining what happened, aren't I? No she, that's Merode, confessed up she'd gone out at night to meet him. Lots of the girls do."

"Oh? Go out to meet Sebastian Birt?" His voice was sharp.

"Oh, why Mr Birt specially? But they do at night."

"But how do you know?" Mr Rock asked. The jealousy he felt over this man obscured his judgement, so that he was not sure what to believe.

"That's easy," the girl replied. "He said he was off to London last night, for the holiday, then stayed after all."

"Who told you? Was it Merode?"

"I said, didn't I? Marion's senior girl at orderly duty today, and Mrs Blain said so. Which reminds me. You mustn't keep me here to pass along the news the way you are. I'm due back in the kitchen. I might tell you it's hard work jollying Mrs Blain, with all she's got on."

"Why do you say Miss Baker and Miss Edge are back?"

"Because I saw them come up the drive. Is that good enough for once? But they didn't see me, no thank you."

"Well, well. They missed a sight then, didn't they, Moira?"

"Oh you are dreadful this morning. Now I'll ask you a question. Where's Dan?"

"Who?"

"I mean Ted."

"The goose? She's fed. It was a good thing I had plenty."

"Why, how's that?"

"Because she's down by the water, this minute, if I know much of Ted," Mr Rock said.

She gave another little shriek.

"Mr Rock that's foul," she cried.

"Grubbing about," he added.

"I shan't stay if you're like this. All you ever want is to give me creeps," she said.

"You'll stay," he countered.

"Why, how's that?" she repeated, making no move to depart.

"You told me you'd have to get back a long while since."

There was a pause while she pouted. But he did not bother to notice.

"Will you come to the dance tonight?" she asked, in a small voice.

"I might," he said.

"Because, if you did, I'd sit one out with you."

"That's a more sensible suggestion than saying you'd spare me a dance." He chopped harder at the branch.

"Because, if you did, I might even give you a kiss," she continued. The chopping stopped. But he did not look up.

"There's an absurd idea," he said loudly. "If you want to know I've completely forgotten about it."

"I mean what I promise," she insisted.

"All I intended to convey," he said, frightened and embarrassed, "was, thank God, I've reached an age when I've long since forgotten everything to do with all such nonsense. Now do you understand?"

"No," she answered.

"Then why not?"

"Because I bet you haven't really," she said. He went on with his work rather fast.

"Well, well," he tried to pass it off, uneasily.

"I don't know what else a girl can promise," she suggested. He let this go.

Then she began again. She dropped her voice to a whisper, so that he unwillingly stopped work to catch what was said through the disfiguring deafness.

"Now this is really secret," she informed him. "Have you heard about Mr Adams?"

"Look, Moira, I'm not here to chatter with students."

"Oh, if someone doesn't want to listen, I can't make them, can I?"

"All right," he said. "There's no need to be forward." She inferred from this last remark that she had his blessing.

"There's some of the juniors meet Mr Adams of a night time. If we could only find which, we'd put an end to that, double quick."

"Who's we?" he asked, surprised into going on with it.

"Why, the seniors."

"Miss Baker and Miss Edge don't know, then?"

"Those two old pussies," she protested. "They'll never learn what really happens here. But that's why it's so silly your saying what you just did. You and he are the same age, anyway there can't be more between you than there is between me and one of the juniors."

"You're out of your mind, child. I'm old enough to be the man's father. And in any case, I don't like this."

"I'm sorry," she said, with an extraordinary look of innocence.

"That's all right. I've forgotten all about it," he repeated severely. But he straightened his back, and took off the spectacles once more, to wipe them.

"Then you will come to the dance tonight," she announced.

"I might," he said. "Will Miss Edge and Miss Baker be in attendance?"

"Of course. They've come back already, like I told. Anyway they only go up for the day, Wednesdays. No, they had to come home in a rush because of Mary and Merode. And when we gave them all the start we could."

"What?" he protested, laughing at last. "If this is any more of your nonsense then I don't want it, that's all."

"Well you see," she said, "Mary was almost forever on orderly duty. Edge said she always was so neat. Marion's the senior today and when Mary didn't turn up, because I promise I never heard a word about Merode till later, Marion asked what she should tell the old grumps. And sure enough Edge spotted Mary wasn't there at once, so Marion told her like I said, that Mary had gone to Matron."

"I don't understand a word," he protested more cheerfully still, and went back to his work.

"Oh, you are dense," she cried. "D'you know while I stand here to pass the time of day with you my arms are simply dropping from all these branches for the dance?" She was indeed a lovely sight as she stood before him. But he laughed once more.

"Then you'd better rid yourself," he said.

"You are in a dreadful mood today. Goodbye for now," she said, and went off, happily pouting.

"Now dear our Directives," Baker said as Marchbanks left the room. "Be careful, do dear. You said yourself the child should not be cross-examined."

"But, Baker, she has not been crossexamined, has she?" Edge cried out, and pushed the saucer away with its empty cup. "If she has, this is the first I have heard."

"Her parents are not living, dear. If they hold an Enquiry they'll call it cross-examination."

"Oh, it does so aggravate one, Baker. Because she holds the answer to Mary's whereabouts."

"Wherever the poor child may be, with her parents away in Brazil, she can stay for a while yet," Miss Baker said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, rather in the same way that Mr Dakers had patted his mouth at breakfast.

"Why, what on earth do you mean?" Miss Edge protested. "You are surely not going to suggest. . . ?"

"I suggest nothing, dear," Baker insisted in a tired voice. "All I say is that Mary can't have got very far, unless of course she has a conveyance. We left instructions about the station and the coaches, and now you have a policeman to see you. No, we must remember the poor mite was sick."

"I know nothing of it," Edge objected. "Her name is not down on Matron's list."

"But don't you recollect, dear? It was you who asked what had happened to Mary at breakfast, and Marion told you she'd gone to Matron!'

"So she did," Miss Edge exclaimed. "That puts an entirely different complexion on the matter. In fact, when I come to consider, I cannot understand how Marchbanks has not been able to drag the wretched girl back to us already. So unnecessary, too, to send for the Inspector. Because he will need some good reason to explain our bringing him up here. The staff simply will not take in what I keep drumming into them about undesirable publicity."

"We haven't found her yet, dear."

But Edge had now gone to the opposite extreme, was overconfident. "Why," she said, and left her desk to go over to the window, "the whole affair is a mare's nest, something tells me." Miss Baker had also risen. She moved over to the telephone.

"And such a shame," Miss Edge continued, holding on to folded curtains at either side with both hands, to face a bright prospect as though crucified. "What a very real shame to torture our nerves in this glorious weather just when the old Place is at its own great best."

"Madam here," Baker said into the receiver. "Would you have Marion sent along at once."

The child must have been expecting it, for, in next to no time, there was her knock on the door.

"Marion," Miss Edge asked, as though Baker had telephoned on her instructions. "When did Mary go to Matron?"

"I couldn't say, ma'am."

"But you told us at breakfast, surely you recollect."

"Yes ma'am."

"When did you see her last then, child?"

"I didn't see her, ma'am."

"You didn't see her?" Edge echoed, an ugly note in her voice. "Oh but, excuse me, you must have. You told us." Marion stood in silence. She looked guilty. "You mean you connived at this disappearance, Marion? Just when my sixth sense had led me to ask you where she was. You say now she never went to Matron?"

"They told me she had, ma'am."

"And who was that, pray?"

"The other girls, ma'am."

"Then you never even saw her this morning?" Miss Baker asked, white about the lips once she found her fears confirmed.

"No ma'am." There was a silence. Edge came away from the window, went right up to the child.

"You can go now, Marion," she said. "But we shall have to see you later about the whole wretched business, once we have got right to the bottom of it. I fear you may not have been quite straight with us, child."

"But I ..." the girl began, raising limpid, spaniel's eyes to Miss Edge, and that were filling with easy tears, when the lady broke in on her.

"Yes, you can go, Marion," she repeated. "Perhaps you did not quite catch what I said?"

A call to Matron told them she had not seen Mary since last night.

"If you would manage the Inspector I'll just have a word with Matron, I think," Baker informed Edge.

"I shall get rid of the man," this lady agreed, with decision.