Good Morning, Midnight

To which Pal had replied, ‘So let me know how it works out, then we can discuss a possible price cut.’

It had worked out well and the knife box now adorned the Pascoe dining room. But though her friendship with Cressida burgeoned, the brother never became anything more than an antiques dealer with whom she was on first-name terms. As for the rest of the family, Ellie had picked up that there was a younger sister, and also that they’d lost their parents some time in childhood, but she’d made no attempt to pry into the exact nature of the evident tensions and problems Cress’s upbringing had left her with. This didn’t mean she wasn’t curious – hell, they were friends, weren’t they? And knowing your friends was even more important than knowing your enemies – but in Ellie’s book though mere curiosity might get you nebbing into the life of a stranger, it was never enough to justify sticking your nose into the affairs of a friend.

But if the confidences came unasked, she was not about to discourage them, particularly in a situation where they also served the useful function of postponing the threatened pounce.

‘You’re not worried?’ she said.

‘No. He’s probably still at work, giving discount.’

‘Sorry?’

Cressida grinned.

‘Well-heeled ladies love their objets d’art but love their money even more. Pal says I’d be amazed how many of them after a bout of haggling will say, “Do you give a discount for cash, Mr Maciver? Or something …?”’

‘I presume you didn’t say this to your sister-in-law?’

‘Thought about it, but in the end I just said if she was really worried she should ring the police and the hospitals.’

‘Decided to go for reassurance then.’

‘You needn’t concern yourself about Sue-Lynn. Self-centred cow. Any worries she’s got will be about herself, not Pal.’

‘But his squash partner is worried too … Jase, you said?’

‘Jason Dunn. My brother-in-law,’ said Cressida, sounding rather surprised, as if she’d just worked out the relationship.

‘So, married to your sister?’

‘Yeah, Helen the child bride.’

‘Lot younger than you then?’ said Ellie.

‘She’s younger than everyone,’ said Cress dismissively. ‘Like Snow White. Doesn’t get any older no matter how often you see the picture. Only this one still adores the wicked stepmother.’

‘Stepmother?’ This was completely new. ‘I didn’t know you had a stepmother.’

‘Not something I boast about. You don’t want to hear all this crap. Haven’t you got that bottle open yet?’

‘Sorry. It’s this broken cork. This stepmother, is she really wicked?’

‘Goes with the job, doesn’t it? She’s a pain in the arse anyway. You’ve probably seen her name in the papers. You wouldn’t forget it. Kay Kafka, would you believe? Why do Yanks always have these crazy fucking names? Here, let me try.’

She grabbed the bottle from Ellie and began poking at the broken cork.

Ellie, feeling that a gibe about names didn’t come well from someone called Cressida who had a brother called Palinurus, was by now sufficiently interested in the family background to have pursued it even without its pounce-postponing potential.

‘So you don’t care for your stepmother? And Pal?’

‘Hates her guts.’

‘But Helen took to her?’

‘She was only a kid when Dad remarried. It was easy for Kay to sink her talons in. Me and Pal were older, our shells had toughened up.’

‘And when your father died … when was that?’

‘Ten years ago. Pal was of age so out of it. I was seventeen so officially still in need of a responsible adult to care over me. I was determined it wasn’t going to be Kay even if it meant signing up with dotty old Vinnie till I made eighteen.’

‘Vinnie?’

‘My aunt Lavinia. Dad’s only sister. Mad as a hatter; you need feathers and a beak before she’ll even speak to you. But being a blood relative did the trick and I was able to give Kay the finger.’

‘But Helen thought different?’

‘Don’t think thought entered into it. She was only nine. Pal and I tried to get her out of the clutches, but she went all hysterical at the idea of being separated from Kay. Poor little cow. Not much upstairs, and I’m sure Kay preferred it that way. She’s a real control freak. Probably handpicked Helen’s husband with that in mind too.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Jason. He’s a PE teacher at Weavers, so not what you’d call an intellectual giant. But a real hunk. And hung. Known as a bit of a stud before Helen hooked him. They say he fucks like a Rossini overture.’

This was an interesting concept but not one that Ellie, in her present antaphrodisiac mode, felt it wise to pursue.

‘So Helen’s stayed close to her stepmother? Which means you and Pal aren’t all that close to Helen?’

Cressida shrugged.

‘She made her choice.’

‘But Pal plays squash with Jason?’

‘Yes, he does,’ said Cressida. ‘Can’t think why, especially as I’m sure Jase must whup the shit out of him and Pal’s not a good loser. Still there’s nowt so queer as folks, is there? And most of us are even queerer than we think.’

She gave Ellie what could only be described as a suggestive leer, then said, ‘Fuck this,’ and drove the broken segment of cork down into the bottle, squirting wine over her hand and forearm.

She raised her fingers to her mouth and licked the red drops off, her eyes fixed on Ellie and a tiny smile twitching her lips.

‘More ways of popping a reluctant cork than one, eh?’ she said. ‘Pass your glass.’

6 (#ulink_6477851c-d5f3-5302-a4fe-95586b3ea094)

a fishy smell (#ulink_6477851c-d5f3-5302-a4fe-95586b3ea094)

Moscow House was full of light, which the shuttered and curtained windows kept penned within. Only through the open front door did any escape to offer a weak challenge to the besieging fog.

Finding the electricity switched on had been a big bonus, particularly for Jennison, but he still stuck close to his partner as they went methodically through the downstairs rooms, then headed upstairs.

‘Hello hello hello,’ said Maycock as he pushed open a bedroom door to reveal a double bed, neatly made up, though not with fresh linen. ‘This looks like it’s still in use.’