‘I don’t know. She’s upset. She’s gone in there to blow her nose and pull herself together. Look. Would you go with her to Dunlowman? It’ll only be a few days. As a job?’

‘Yes, of course. Job be blowed.’

‘Well, as her guest. She wouldn’t hear of anything else.’

‘All right. If she wants me. She might easily not.’

‘Go out on a pretence message for me and come back in five minutes. I’ll fix it.’

‘OK.’

‘You’re a darling, Miss Williams.’

Jenny pulled a grimace and went out.

When Miss Emily returned she was in complete control of herself. Alleyn said Jenny had gone down to leave a note for him at the office. He said he’d had an idea. Jenny, he understood from Miss Emily, herself was hard up and had to take holiday jobs to enable her to stay in England. Why not offer her one as companion for as long as the stay in Dunlowman lasted?

‘She would not wish it. She is the guest of the Barrimores and the young man is greatly attached.’

‘I think she feels she’d like to get away,’ Alleyn lied. ‘She said as much to me.’

‘In that case,’ Miss Emily hesitated. ‘In that case I – I shall make the suggestion. Tactfully, of course. I confess it – it would be a comfort.’ And she added firmly: ‘I am feeling old.’

It was the most devastating remark he had ever heard from Miss Emily.

CHAPTER 6
Green Lady

When he arrived downstairs it was to find Major Barrimore and the office clerk dealing with a group of disgruntled visitors who were relinquishing their rooms. The Major appeared to hang on to his professional aplomb with some difficulty. Alleyn waited and had time to read a notice that was prominently displayed and announced the temporary closing of the Spring owing to unforeseen circumstances.

Major Barrimore made his final bow, stared balefully after the last guest and saw Alleyn. He spread his hands. ‘My God,’ he said.

‘I’m very sorry.’

‘Bloody people!’ said the Major in unconscious agreement with Jenny. ‘God, how I hate bloody people.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

‘They’ll all go! The lot! They’ll cackle away among themselves and want their money back and change their minds and jibber and jabber and in the bloody upshot, they’ll be off. The whole bloody boiling of them. And the next thing: a new draft! Waltzing in and waltzing out again. What the – ’ His language grew more fanciful; he sweated extremely. A lady with a cross face swept out of the lounge and up the stairs. He bowed to her distractedly. ‘That’s right, madam,’ he whispered after her. ‘That’s the drill. Talk to your husband and pack your bags and take your chronic eczema to hell out of it.’ He smiled dreadfully at Alleyn. ‘And what can I do for you?’ he demanded.