Dead Man's Dinner - Una Gordon Page 0,20

rumour going round that Derwent Mollosey died of Aids. I thought you told me it was leukaemia?”

“Yes, I did. That's what I was told, but I've heard this rumour as well. Fiona, I....”

“You know, Gresham, when you were in the States last year.......”

“Yes.” Gresham's heart nearly stopped beating.

“Well, something funny happened. I meant to tell you, but somehow it kept slipping my memory and anyway it didn't seem important.”

Didn't seem important? thought Gresham.

Derwent rang up one day and asked me to go for tea.”

Gresham felt as if every nerve in his body was on red alert.

“I tried to get out of it because you know I never liked him, but he insisted. He said it was very important in connection with you. He just wouldn't take no for an answer, so in the end I went.”

I know you did, my dear, because it's in your diary, thought Gresham, feeling rather ashamed that he had surreptitiously checked up on Fiona.

“When I got there the table was beautifully laid – all china and silver – cucumber sandwiches, Battenburg cake, chocolate biscuits, the lot. You know I was trying to diet to get my figure back after John's birth, but Derwent practically forced the food down my throat.”

Never mind the unimportant details – get to the point, thought Gresham.

“Derwent was in a very peculiar mood. He made odd remarks apropos of nothing. I couldn't make out what was going on and eventually I got really fed up and demanded to know why he'd asked me there. He smiled in an – well an almost evil way and said something about it being a bet, but I couldn't get any more out of him. It bothered me at the time, but you weren't around and I didn't want to tell you on the phone, then when you came back John was ill and, as I said, it just drifted out of my mind. I wonder if his mind was affected when he was told what was wrong with him. His manner, as I say, was most odd.”

“He didn't try to seduce you?”

Fiona looked at Gresham in absolute amazement. “What do you take me for? I always thought he was impotent, but this Aids rumour has made me wonder. But why do you ask? Did he tell you he had a grand passion for me?”

Gresham looked rather shamefaced. The whole story about the dinner and the card came tumbling out. He let Fiona see the card which he had kept locked up in his desk. “I thought it was some kind of awful joke Derwent was trying to play?” he explained feebly.

Fiona looked at him, a faint smile playing around her lips. “You weren't quite sure, were you?” Gresham almost winced as she read aloud what it said on the card. “ 'I slept with your wife on April 2nd, 1987.' A day late for an April Fool joke.”

“Fiona, I really do trust you. I..”

“I know,” said Fiona, “it's yourself you don't trust. I know you've never fully been convinced that I love you, but I do. Can you imagine that I'd be interested in someone like Derwent when you're around?” She leaned over and kissed him. They went from the dining table to the bedroom and it was quite some time before Derwent was given another thought.

Later as Gresham lay beside Fiona, he thought of Derwent and he felt quite grateful to him because with discussing him, he was now convinced that Fiona did love him.

It was Fiona who brought up the subject of Derwent the next day. “Don't you see, Gresham, you were right. It was a form of joke – rather horrible, but that was what Derwent meant it to be. He was always jealous of you.”

“But why should he be jealous of me. He was as rich as Croesus.”

“Yes, but you've got something that money can't buy. You're an aristocrat. You may think that's not important because you take it for granted, but Derwent would dearly have liked to have come from a long line of titled people and he didn't. Believe me he was jealous of you and he wanted to hurt you where he thought you'd feel it most. He knew the circumstances in which we got married. He also knew you well enough to know your Achilles heel is that you don't think you are attractive to women. I bet he planned this carefully hoping it would break up or at least damage our marriage.”

“The bastard!”

“What's been worrying