Moira nodded.
‘He’s crazy about her.’ ‘And she?’ «»’I don’t know,’ said Moira slowly. ‘I can’t make up my mind.
On the surface she seems fond of her husband and little boy and content and peaceful. She seems a very simple woman. But sometimes I fancy that she isn’t so simple as she seems. I’ve even wondered sometimes whether she is an entirely different woman from what we all think she is… whether, perhaps, she isn’t playing a part and playing it very well… But, really, I think, that’s nonsense – foolish imagination on my part.
When you’ve lived at a place like the Grange your mind gets distorted and you do begin imagining things.’ ‘What about the brother Roger?’ asked Bobby.
‘I don’t know much about him. He’s nice, I think, but he’s the sort of person who would be very easily deceived. He’s quite taken in by Jasper, I know. Jasper is working on him to persuade Mr Bassington-ffrench to come to the Grange. I believe he thinks it’s all his own idea.’ She leaned forward suddenly and caught Bobby’s sleeve. ‘Don’t let him come to the Grange,’ she implored. ‘If he does, something awful will happen. I know it will.’ Bobby was silent a minute or two, turning over the amazing story in his mind.
‘How long have you been married to Nicholson?’ he said at last.
‘Just over a year -‘ She shivered.
‘Haven’t you ever thought of leaving him?’ ‘How could I? I’ve nowhere to go. I’ve no money. If anyone took me in, what sort of story could I tell? A fantastic tale that my husband wanted to murder me? Who would believe me?’ ‘Well, I believe you,’ said Bobby.
He paused a moment, as though making up his mind to a certain course of action. Then he went on: ‘Look here,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’m going to ask you a question straight out. Did you know a man called Alan Carstairs?’ He saw the colour come up in her cheeks.
‘Why do you ask me that?’ ‘Because it’s rather important that I should know. My idea is that you ^d know Alan Carstairs, that perhaps at some time or other you gave him your photograph.’ She was silent a moment, her eyes downcast. Then she lifted her head and looked him in the face.
‘That’s quite true,’ she said.
‘You knew him before you were married?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Has he been down here to see you since you were married?’ She hesitated, then said: ‘Yes, once.’ ‘About a month ago would that be?’ ‘Yes. I suppose it would be about a month.’ ‘He knew you were living down here?’ ‘I don’t know how he knew – I hadn’t told him. I had never even written to him since my marriage.’ ‘But he found out and came here to see you. Did your husband know that?’ ‘No.’ ‘You think not. But he might have known all the same?’ ‘I suppose he might, but he never said anything.’ ‘Did you discuss your husband at all with Carstairs? Did you tell him of your fears as to your safety?’ She shook her head.
‘I hadn’t begun to suspect then.’ ‘But you were unhappy?’ Yes.’ ‘And you told him so?’ ‘No. I tried not to show in any way that my marriage hadn’t been a success.’ ‘But he might have guessed it all the same,’ said Bobby gently.
‘I suppose he might,’ she admitted in a low voice.
‘Do you think – I don’t know how to put it – but do you think that he knew anything about your husband – that he suspected, for instance, that this nursing home place mightn’t be quite what it seemed to be?’ Her brows furrowed as she tried to think.
‘It’s possible,’ she said at last. ‘He asked one or two rather peculiar questions – but – no. I don’t think he can really have known anything about it.’ Bobby was silent again for a few minutes. Then he said: ‘Would you call your husband a jealous man?’ Rather to his surprise, she answered: ‘Yes. Very jealous.’ ‘Jealous, for instance, of you.’ ‘You mean even though he doesn’t care? But, yes, he would be jealous, just the same. I’m his property, you see. He’s a queer man – a very queer man.’ She shivered.