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think he helped your poor papa, sir. I think he s done a bit
of valeting for the Sheringhams, their own man having been
struck down with food poisoning two weeks back. Food
poisoning, I ask you, sir. He shouldn t have been eating
winkles from a stall like a barrow boy, should he?
 Indeed not, Ainslie s thoughts had turned to food not
for the stomach but for thought.  Your Alec sounds a very
able chap; he s a lucky man to have such a nice girl as you.
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Lessons in Desire
I hope that you ll be very happy together.
The maid s face crumpled in dismay just a little. Ainslie
understood the situation in that one small look. No doubt
she was fond of her young man, but many girls had a
pragmatic streak. Mr. Ainslie was a very eligible quantity, a
little flirtation with him might have led to some very nice
rewards, except he d brought the shutters down very firmly
on that possibility. Alice would have to keep with her Alec
and his dreams, at least for the time being. She managed a
smile, her training in never showing your true feelings to
your betters standing her in good stead.  That s most kind
of you, sir. I just hope that Alec can make as much of
himself as you ve done.
They walked back to the hotel surrounded by an air of
disappointment on the lady s part and thoughtfulness on the
man s. Ainslie desperately wanted to discuss this
conversation with his two new friends, but they d gone off
in the morning to look at some ancient monuments on the
far side of the island then were stopping off en route home
to see a concert in the park at St. Helier. He d have to bide
his time, content with an afternoon s cribbage with Mr.
Tattersall.
The sound of the band tuning up drifted softly over the
air, exciting Stewart s senses to an alarming degree.  Just
like the orchestra starting up before a show, Orlando.
Always sets all my nerves a-tingle and sends shivers up my
spine. They walked over the grass to where the crowd was
already beginning to settle for the concert. The little
bandstand shone delightfully, looking like a toy in a shop
window at Christmas, just a little too perfect to be used for
anything except admiring. However, a small brass band had
crammed themselves into it and were busy making
arrangements to play.
They obtained two deckchairs, gaudy striped
contraptions which resembled the worst kind of pyjamas.
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Charlie Cochrane
For once, Jonty was bested, Orlando being immediately able
to work out how to erect the awkward thing he d been given
then watching with delight as Stewart went from crisis to
crisis in his vain attempt to get his chair to fit together
properly.
 Shall I?
 You d better, or I ll take a hammer to the thing.
A quick flip, and the seat was in its rightful position.
 See? Easy.
Jonty muttered something that might just have ended in
 ugger , but wasn t  rugger , then sat down. He soon
cheered up when the band struck up a Strauss waltz,
drumming the beat on his thighs with strong fingers. The
end of the piece was met with loud applause from the
audience, the quality of the music being much appreciated.
The joie de vie of the players infected everyone, not a hard
feat as the day was fine and holiday spirit abounded.
The next item was a rather naughty medley of music
hall tunes, the words of which were happily sung among the
crowd, followed by a selection of light orchestral pieces.
During one of these, Orlando nudged Stewart in the side
and pointed to an elderly couple in front of them who,
having struggled to put up their one deck chair, were now
attempting to share it.  I think we should give them one of
ours, Jonty
 Of course, I ll take mine over. He looked a bit
sheepish and stared at the grass.  If you ll just fold it, of
course.
Coppersmith s bosom swelled with pride and he
mentally listed this as being another area in which he had
supremacy over the light of his life. Bridge, racing tips,
croquet, catching shrimps, putting up deckchairs, making
his lover moan the list was becoming nicely lengthened.
He deftly returned the chair to its flat state, waved aside all
offers of help, took it over to the couple, then just as deftly
erected it again, bowing politely. Stewart was grinning with
pleasure, standing up to stretch himself while the band
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Lessons in Desire
searched out their music for the next tune.
Orlando indicated his own chair.  Take mine, Jonty, I
can sit on the grass.
 You will not; we ll take turn and turn about, one piece
of music each. We re not in the Senior Common Room now
with rules about keeping to particular seats. I ve already
been accused, very early on in our friendship, of stealing
your special chair. I shan t risk it again.
They d set the deckchairs up at the very back of the
crowd, where they were likely to be unobserved as all the
eyes and ears were turned forwards to the bandstand. The
height of the backs of the chairs made it very difficult to see
over them anyway, except if you took advantage of the
slight rise at the side of the arena. Stewart gently lowered
his posterior to the grass, a process which gave him a
strange view of a world peopled by rear ends encompassed
by sagging striped canvas. He gradually maneuvered
himself until he was by Orlando s knees, then
surreptitiously lifted his arm, resting it on one of them. The
music carried on, a variation on the 1812 overture being
attempted as a first half finale, and Coppersmith was so
wrapped up in the piece he didn t notice what was
happening. Jonty grew bolder, moving his head across until
it rested on his own arm, the one which lay upon Orlando s
knee. It was about the closest he d come to Coppersmith in
broad daylight, in public the thrill was delicious. He was
wondering whether there was any way that he could get his
little nose to make contact with Orlando s flesh when his
head got thrown violently in the air by the jerk of a bony
kneecap.
 What do you think you re playing at, you little pest?
Coppersmith hissed like some agitated serpent.
 Seeing how far I could go without you noticing, of
course, Jonty whispered his reply.  Got quite a way really,
my main objective being to get my nose in contact with a
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Charlie Cochrane
part of your exposed flesh. He laughed.  Quite a good
game this, I must try it again.
 Well you won t do it here. I m wise to you now,
trouble maker. Orlando almost giggled, something which
happened very rarely in public. They sat back and waited
for the music to start again.
The concert re-started with some Vivaldi. Orlando
listened with pleasure, not least because the swell and
grandeur of the music made him think of the previous night,
which had been stunning. This holiday was proving beyond
all expectation, now that he was relaxed and in an excellent
mood, especially as he could apply his mind to the
challenge of another murder. This time neither he nor his
college was at threat so it had become almost an intellectual
exercise, especially today when it was Ainslie who was out
doing the questioning, the part of the procedure which
Coppersmith liked the least. He desperately wanted to
unravel the mystery before the police did, not through any
malice for Wilson or le Tissier but from the sheer thrill of
the chase and the delights of an intellectual puzzle solved.
Orlando s brain kept ticking over, exploring avenues.
He could clearly formulate a theory about one of the staff
finding the accusatory letters in Sheringham s drawer, using
the information, flawed as it was, to start a little scheme of
his or her own. All that was missing was the evidence that
such a thing had happened. He inwardly laughed at how
he d have ripped apart any thesis from his students that
didn t follow the strict Coppersmith evidence first, theory
second rule. They should hoist him on his own petard here,
and a pretty explosion it would make. Frustratingly, the
theory, neat as it was, still didn t bring them any closer to
finding the murderer.
If Ainslie senior had found out about the letters then
confronted the blackmailer, possibly they might have [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]