‘Hallo,’ she said. ‘Is it a party? Nobody told me.’
‘Of course,’ cried Patrick. ‘Our Phillipa doesn’t know. The only woman in Chipping Cleghorn who doesn’t, I bet.’
Phillipa looked at him inquiringly.
‘Here you behold,’ said Patrick dramatically, waving a hand, ‘the scene of a murder!’
Phillipa Haymes looked faintly puzzled.
‘Here,’ Patrick indicated the two big bowls of chrysanthemums, ‘are the funeral wreaths and these dishes of cheese straws and olives represent the funeral baked meats.’
Phillipa looked inquiringly at Miss Blacklock.
‘Is it a joke?’ she asked. ‘I’m always terribly stupid at seeing jokes.’
‘It’s a very nasty joke,’ said Dora Bunner with energy. ‘I don’t like it at all.’
‘Show her the advertisement,’ said Miss Blacklock. ‘I must go and shut up the ducks. It’s dark. They’ll be in by now.’
‘Let me do it,’ said Phillipa.
‘Certainly not, my dear. You’ve finished your day’s work.’
‘I’ll do it, Aunt Letty,’ offered Patrick.
‘No, you won’t,’ said Miss Blacklock with energy. ‘Last time you didn’t latch the door properly.’
‘I’ll do it, Letty dear,’ cried Miss Bunner. ‘Indeed, I should love to. I’ll just slip on my goloshes—and now where did I put my cardigan?’
But Miss Blacklock, with a smile, had already left the room.
‘It’s no good, Bunny,’ said Patrick. ‘Aunt Letty’s so efficient that she can never bear anybody else to do things for her. She really much prefers to do everything herself.’
‘She loves it,’ said Julia.
‘I didn’t notice you making any offers of assistance,’ said her brother.
Julia smiled lazily.
‘You’ve just said Aunt Letty likes to do things herself,’ she pointed out. ‘Besides,’ she held out a well-shaped leg in a sheer stocking, ‘I’ve got my best stockings on.’
‘Death in silk stockings!’ declaimed Patrick.
‘Not silk—nylons, you idiot.’
‘That’s not nearly such a good title.’
‘Won’t somebody please tell me,’ cried Phillipa plaintively, ‘why there is all this insistence on death?’
Everybody tried to tell her at once—nobody could find the Gazette to show her because Mitzi had taken it into the kitchen.
Miss Blacklock returned a few minutes later.
‘There,’ she said briskly, ‘that’s done.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Twenty-past six. Somebody ought to be here soon—unless I’m entirely wrong in my estimate of my neighbours.’
‘I don’t see why anybody should come,’ said Phillipa, looking bewildered.
‘Don’t you, dear?…I dare say you wouldn’t. But most people are rather more inquisitive than you are.’
‘Phillipa’s attitude to life is that she just isn’t interested,’ said Julia, rather nastily.
Phillipa did not reply.
Miss Blacklock was glancing round the room. Mitzi had put the sherry and three dishes containing olives, cheese straws and some little fancy pastries on the table in the middle of the room.
‘You might move that tray—or the whole table if you like—round the corner into the bay window in the other room, Patrick, if you don’t mind. After all, I am not giving a party! I haven’t asked anyone. And I don’t intend to make it obvious that I expect people to turn up.’
‘You wish, Aunt Letty, to disguise your intelligent anticipation?’
‘Very nicely put, Patrick. Thank you, my dear boy.’
‘Now we can all give a lovely performance of a quiet evening at home,’ said Julia, ‘and be quite surprised when somebody drops in.’
Miss Blacklock had picked up the sherry bottle. She stood holding it uncertainly in her hand.
Patrick reassured her.
‘There’s quite half a bottle there. It ought to be enough.’
‘Oh, yes—yes…’ She hesitated. Then, with a slight flush, she said:
‘Patrick, would you mind…there’s a new bottle in the cupboard in the pantry…Bring it and a corkscrew. I—we—might as well have a new bottle. This—this has been opened some time.’
Patrick went on his errand without a word. He returned with the new bottle and drew the cork. He looked up curiously at Miss Blacklock as he placed it on the tray.
‘Taking this seriously, aren’t you, darling?’ he asked gently.
‘Oh,’ cried Dora Bunner, shocked. ‘Surely, Letty, you can’t imagine—’
‘Hush,’ said Miss Blacklock quickly. ‘That’s the bell. You see, my intelligent anticipation is being justified.’
II
Mitzi opened the door of the drawing-room and admitted Colonel and Mrs Easterbrook. She had her own methods of announcing people.