Coral Glynn (14 page)

Major Hart stood up then and said, “What’s this about, Hoke? We’ve just been married, for God’s sake.”

“A thousand pardons, Major Hart, and a thousand good wishes to you and your bride. Perhaps we might have a private word in the corridor?”

“Certainly not,” said the Major. He walked the length of the table and put his arms on Coral’s shoulders. “Sit, my dear,” he told her. “This is our wedding day, Hoke. It is neither the time nor the place for your interference.”

“It was only a brief word that I wanted,” said the Inspector.

“Then come to us tomorrow, at Hart House, as you should have originally done,” said Major Hart. “We shall be available to speak with you then.”

“I’m afraid I cannot wait that long,” said Inspector Hoke. “I know the timing is unfortunate but I must speak with Miss Glynn—Mrs Hart—today.”

“This evening, then,” said the Major. “Five o’clock.”

“Very well,” said the Inspector. “I am sorry to have interrupted your party. Sometimes the duties of a policeman are unpleasant.”

“No doubt,” said Major Hart. “We’ll see you this evening.”

When the Inspector had withdrawn and closed the door behind him, Major Hart returned to his place and picked up his glass of champagne. “I ask you all to stand and make a toast to my beautiful wife.”

Everyone stood and raised his or her glass of champagne.

Major Hart said, “I had resigned myself to being alone in my life, and miserable. I wish to toast the woman who has changed all of that—the woman whom I love, and to whom I am forever indebted. To Coral!”

“To Coral!” everyone echoed, and this time they were able to raise their glasses and drink heartily from them.

*   *   *

Mrs Prence brought their tea into the library and lay the tray on the low table in front of the fire. “Thank you, Mary,” Major Hart said from behind the scrim of his newspaper. He had already thrown the first page into the fire, where the flames had hungrily devoured the headline:

CLUES FOUND IN SAP GREEN FOREST

POLICE CLOSING IN

Mrs Prence stepped away from the table and stood there for a moment, apparently at her wit’s end. When it became clear that the Major was not aware of her continuing presence, she cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me, sir.”

Major Hart folded his paper onto his lap and said, “What is it, Mary?”

“I’m not one for toasts,” said Mrs Prence. “Not like those others at the luncheon. Or songs, for that matter. But I did want to say, sir, to you and Mrs Hart, that I wish you a very happy life together.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Mary,” said the Major. “Isn’t it, Coral?”

“Yes,” said Coral. “Thank you, Mrs Prence.”

“This is for you, ma’am,” said Mrs Prence. She took a little cloisonné box off the tea tray and handed it to Coral.

“Oh, Mrs Prence,” said Coral. “I couldn’t accept it.”

“Don’t be silly, Coral,” said the Major. “Of course you may.”

“It’s very sweet,” said Coral. “And I love little boxes.”

“The gift is inside,” said Mrs Prence. “Along with the box, of course. Open it.”

Coral unscrewed the top off the box. Inside of it lay a pair of garish gold and ruby earrings. “Oh, they’re beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“Very pretty,” said Major Hart.

“They belonged to my grandmother,” explained Mrs Prence. “My mother’s mother. She had a bit of Gypsy blood in her and did like pretty things. Them’s real rubies, she always claimed, although they could be just bits of coloured glass, I suppose.”

“Oh, but if they belonged to your grandmother, you should keep them,” said Coral. “They’re heirlooms.”

“They’re no use to me,” said Mrs Prence. “I wouldn’t pierce my ears for all the tea in China, nor would I wear them if I did. But I thought they might suit you very well, ma’am.”

Coral thought it would be churlish to point out that her ears were also unpierced. “Well, they’re very pretty and I shall treasure them,” she said, tucking them back into the little box. “Thank you.”

“Very kind of you, Mary,” said the Major. “Will you join us for a cup of tea?”

“Oh, no, sir. I’ve got the supper to make. I thought after that big stuffing luncheon, my egg and cheese ramekins might be nice?”

“Splendid,” said the Major. “Will you pour, Coral?”

Mrs Prence left the room and the Major disappeared behind his newspaper. Coral poured tea into the cups and then realised she had not the least idea how the Major took his tea. It seemed a strange question to ask one’s husband, and it made her think of everything else she didn’t know about him—or rather, how very little she did know. There he sat across from her, close enough to touch. It would come to that soon enough, she thought. Tonight. In the huge old canopied bed his mother had so recently died in. She had been shocked when he told her this was to be their room; she had imagined that its door would be closed and never reopened, the room and its contents forgotten. But of course it was the master bedroom. There was a new quilted coverlet on the bed, and yet, the old lady’s clothes still hung in the wardrobes, and her ancient under things lay perennially undisturbed, like hard-packed drifts of snow, in the bureau drawers.

“How do you like your tea?” she asked her husband.

He poked his head around the edge of the newspaper and said, “What?”

“Your tea. How do you like it?”

“Ah,” he said. “Milk, no sugar, please.”

She dripped milk into one of the cups of tea and handed it to him.

“Many thanks,” he said. He put the saucer down on the table and reopened the newspaper before him. She sipped her tea and looked around the room. I live here now, she thought. All of this is mine. But it made no sense, it was like thinking that Timbuktu was hers. She was sure she would always feel a foreigner here. But then, she had never felt at home anywhere. In the past few years her itinerant nursing had made her an interloper in one home after another, arriving in each home along with the damp stain of sickness or the dark shadow of death, an unwelcome but necessary guest, tolerated but never embraced. So it was impossible for Coral to imagine sitting in a room and not feeling imposed upon it.

When the Major had finished his tea, she lifted the pot and said, “More?”

“Is it still warm?” he asked.

The pot felt only faintly warm. “Not very,” she said. “Would you like a fresh pot?”

“No,” he said. “What time is it? Perhaps I’ll have a drink.” He looked at his watch. “It’s almost five,” he said. “That damned Hoke will be here any minute.”

Coral stood and picked up the tray.

“Leave that,” he said. “Mrs Prence will clear it all away.”

“I’d like to go down and have a word with her,” said Coral.

“Awfully nice of her to give you that jewellry. And speaking of which, I have to get you a ring, haven’t I?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course I do. You’re a married lady. You must wear a ring.”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you have one as well?”

“Oh, it’s different for men,” he said. “I’ve got this ring.” He showed her the signet ring on his pinkie finger. “It was my father’s. That’s all the jewellry I want. We’ll have to go into town—there’s a decent jeweller’s there, I believe. Or perhaps you’d like Mother’s band? Of course it’s all yours now, her jewellry.”

“I think if I am to wear a ring, I would like it to be my own.”

“Of course,” he said. “We’ll go to town on Monday.”

*   *   *

Mrs Prence was beating eggs with barely suppressed fury when Coral appeared in the kitchen with the tea tray.

“You had only need ring,” she said, “and I would have come up for it.”

“I know,” said Coral. “But I wanted to come down. And thank you for the lovely gift. It was very kind of you. And I wanted to say … that I am sorry about before, about the unpleasantness between us.”

“I’m sure it is a thing of the past,” said Mrs Prence.

“Yes. I know that this is your home,” said Coral, “and I want you to be happy here. I want you to go on doing things as you always have—unless, of course, there are changes you would like to make. I don’t pretend to have any experience running a house. But if there is anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”

“I’m sure I can manage. I always have.”

They heard the bell at the front door.

“Who can that be?” asked Mrs Prence.

“It’s probably Inspector Hoke,” said Coral.

“Ah, yes,” said Mrs Prence. “He wants to talk to you about that nasty business in the woods, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Coral.

“You mustn’t be afraid of him,” said Mrs Prence. “He is a very kind man. If you have nothing to hide, you must tell him everything you know.”

“Of course I will,” said Coral.

*   *   *

Inspector Hoke was shaking rain from his coat in the front hall when Coral emerged from the kitchen. Major Hart was standing nearby, looking vacant.

“Let me hang that up for you, Inspector Hoke,” Coral said. She opened the closet door and withdrew a hanger.

“Thank you kindly,” said the Inspector, “but it’s a bit damp. I’ll spare you the trouble.” He took the hanger from her and fitted it into his coat, then hung it in the closet, shifting the coats nearest to it away. He closed the closet door and brushed his hands together. “Good evening, Mrs Hart. My apologies for interrupting your luncheon this afternoon. I trust that it proceeded merrily?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Coral.

“Now, where could we sit and chat for a moment?”

“There is a fire in the library,” said Coral, and indicated the open door.

They all three entered the library. The Inspector and Coral sat and the Major stood beside the drinks cart. “I was just about to make myself a drink,” he said. “Would you like something, Inspector?”

“Thank you, but no.”

“Darling?”

“A little brandy, perhaps.”

“Of course.” The Major poured brandy into one glass and some whiskey into another and sat on the couch beside his wife, facing the fire. “Well,” he said to the Inspector, “what is this all about?”

“It’s good of you to make time for me on this day of all days,” said the Inspector.

“This is about the girl in the woods I assume?” asked the Major.

“Yes,” said the Inspector. “Some evidence has been discovered that warrants me speaking to you again. It is actually you, Mrs Hart, I wish to speak with.”

“Evidence? What kind of evidence?” asked the Major.

“I’ll get to that in a moment, Major. I would prefer to speak with Mrs Hart alone, if that is all right with you.”

“It certainly isn’t,” said the Major.

“It is really up to you, Mrs Hart. Would you prefer to speak with me alone?”

“I would not,” said Coral.

“Very well,” said the Inspector. “When I spoke with you last, Mrs Hart, you told me that you often walked in the Sap Green Forest.”

“I said that I had walked several times in the forest.”

“Forgive me, I now remember your making that distinction. And if I remember correctly, you also told me that you saw no one walking in or near the woods.”

“Yes,” said Coral. “That is correct.”

“Tell me, Mrs Hart, when you made these several walks, did you remain on the pathways, or did you venture from them?”

“I think I stayed mostly to the pathways.”

“Never venturing from them?”

“Not that I remember.”

“But you allow the possibility that you ventured from the path?”

“Look here, Hoke, what are you getting at? I wish you’d stop with all this detective nonsense.”

“It is not nonsense, Major. Please allow me to proceed.”

“Well, if you’ve got something to say, I wish you’d just say it, and stop with all these damned ridiculous questions.”

“Mrs Hart, there is a large coppice of holly trees in the forest. Do you remember seeing them on any of your walks?

“Yes,” she said, “I do.”

“And did you venture into them?”

“Into them? No.”

“You are sure?”

“Yes,” said Coral. “I remember stopping near to them, but that is all.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I heard something, a noise coming from them.”

“What kind of a noise?”

“At first I thought it might be an animal. But then, as I listened, I realised it was only the sound of the holly leaves rubbing against themselves. They make a strange sound.”

The Inspector reached into his jacket and pulled a little cloth pouch from its inner pocket. He loosened the strings holding the pouch closed and shook it. A button fell onto the table, spun on its axis for a moment, and then lay still. It was made of butterscotch Bakelite, rather ordinary, of medium size.

“Do you recognise this button?” Inspector Hoke asked Coral.

Coral said nothing. She looked at the button and then bent forwards and touched it with one of her fingers, flipping it over.

“Where did you find it?” she asked.

“So you recognise it?”

“Yes,” said Coral. “It is from the sleeve of my coat.”

“Yes,” said the Inspector. “I noticed you were missing a button when I hung up my coat.”

“How clever you are,” said Coral. “Where did you find it?”

“It was found in the Sap Green Forest. Deep within the stand of holly, very near to where the little girl was hanged. I ask you again, Mrs Hart, and for the final time, did you venture into the holly? Did you see anyone when you walked in the forest?”

“Look here, Hoke,” said the Major. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but you can’t go about insulting my wife like that. She’ll answer no more of your questions until we’ve consulted our solicitor.”

“No,” said Coral. “The Inspector is right. It is time I told him the truth.”

“You needn’t tell him anything, darling—”

“I saw the holly,” Coral said, “as I told you. And I heard that strange sound coming from it. At first I did think it was wind rubbing the leaves, but then I realised it wasn’t the wind, it was something—a person or an animal—crying out. So I pushed into the holly, and it was difficult, because it grows so densely, but I found a little passage—a tunnel almost—and followed that into a small clearing in the centre.”

She stopped speaking for a moment and gazed into the fire.