A Great Deliverance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,81

of that?"

"Simon knows how you feel. He's your friend. So am I."

"I don't want your friendship, Deborah," he said.

"I know. But I hope you will someday. It'll be there when you do."

He felt her fingers on his arm again. They tightened, then loosened in farewell. She opened the car door, slipped inside, and was gone.

Alone, he walked back towards the lodge, feeling the cloak of desolation settle more firmly round his shoulders. He had just reached the Odell house when the garden door opened and a little figure hurtled determinedly down the steps. She was followed moments later by her duck.

"You wait here, Dougal!" Bridie shouted. "Mummy put your new food in the shed yesterday."

The duck, unable to navigate the steps anyway, sat patiently waiting as the child tugged open the shed door and disappeared inside. She was back in a moment, lugging a large sack behind her. Lynley noticed that she wore a school uniform, but it was badly rumpled and not particularly clean.

"Hello, Bridie," he called.

Her head darted up. Her hair, he noticed, had been managed somewhat more expertly since yesterday's fiasco. He wondered who had done it.

"Got to feed Dougal," she said. "Got to go to school today as well. I hate school."

He joined her in the yard. The duck watched his approach warily, one brown eye on him and the other on the promised breakfast. Bridie poured a gargantuan portion onto the ground and the duck flapped his wings eagerly.

"Okay, Dougal, here you go," Bridie said. She lifted the bird lovingly from the steps and placed him on the damp ground, watching fondly as he plunged headfirst into the food. "He likes breakfast best," she confided to Lynley, taking an accustomed place on the top step. She rested her chin on her knees and gazed adoringly at the mallard. Lynley joined her on the step.

"You've fixed your hair quite nicely," he commented. "Did Sinji do it for you?"

She shook her head, eyes still on duck. "Nope. Aunt Stepha did it."

"Did she? She did a very nice job."

"She's good at stuff like that," Bridie acknowledged in a tone that indicated there were other things that Aunt Stepha was not at all good at. "But now I have to go to school. Mummy wouldn't let me go yesterday. She said it was "too humiliating for words.'" Bridie tossed her head scornfully. "It's my hair, not hers," she added, practically.

"Well, mothers have a way of taking things a bit personally. Haven't you noticed?"

"She could've taken it the way Aunt Stepha did.

She just laughed when she saw me." She hopped off the steps and filled a shallow pan with water. "Here, Dougal," she called. The duck ignored her. There was a chance the food might be taken away if he did not eat it all as fast as he could. Dougal was a duck who never took chances. Water could wait. Bridie rejoined Lynley.

Companionably, they watched as the duck gorged himself. Bridie sighed. She was inspecting the scuffed tops of her shoes and she rubbed at them ineffectually with a dirty finger. "Don't know why I have to go to school anyway. William never did."

"Never?"

"Well...not after he was twelve years old. If Mummy'd married William I wouldn't've had to go to school. Bobba didn't go."

"Ever?"

Bridie adjusted her information. "William never made her go after she was sixteen. I don't know what I'll do if I have t' wait till I'm sixteen. Mummy'll make me go. She wants me to go to university, but I don't want to."

"What would you rather do?"

"Take care of Dougal."

"Ah. Not that he doesn't look like the picture of complete health, Bridie, but ducks don't live forever. It's always nice to have something to fall back on."

"I can always help Aunt Stepha."

"At the lodge?"

She nodded. Dougal had finished his breakfast and was now beak deep into the water pan. "I tell Mummy that, but it's no use. "I don't want you spending your life at that lodge.'" She did a disconcertingly fair imitation of Olivia Odell's distracted voice. She shook her head darkly.

"If William and Mummy had married, it would all be different. I could leave school and do all my learning at home. William was awfully clever. He could have taught me. He would have. I know it."

"How do you know it?"

"'Cause he always would read to me and Dougal." The duck, hearing his name, waddled contentedly back to them in his peculiar, lopsided fashion. "Mostly Bible stuff, though." Bridie polished one shoe on the