A Spear of Summer Grass - By Deanna Raybourn Page 0,121

shocked that they let him dictate the arrangements, but I suppose it was a mark of how much influence he had in the colony. Gilchrist was obviously looking at him as the future president and he gave us ten minutes together. Rex held me gently and didn’t say much. It felt glorious to have someone stroke my hair.

“I only wish you’d brought my hairbrush,” I told him. “I’m sure I look a fright.”

“You look wonderful,” he replied. He kissed me on the cheek then and asked all sorts of penetrating questions about the legalities and whether my rights were being respected. He told me he’d been in touch with Quentin and he was on his way, but there was nothing more he could tell me, and the inspector tapped at the door while he was still talking.

“I’m afraid your ten minutes are up, sir,” Gilchrist called.

Rex turned to me. “Is there anything I can send you?”

“A file?” I hazarded.

He smiled, but couldn’t quite bring himself to laugh. “Steady on, dear girl. It will all be over soon.”

“I hope so.” He left me then, and Gilchrist had me escorted back to my cell where I marked another day off the wall in pencil.

My next visitor wasn’t quite so diverting. Dora burst into lusty sobs the minute she saw me.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Dodo,” I muttered.

She blew noisily into her handkerchief. “I am sorry. I can’t seem to stop.”

“Were you able to get hold of Mossy? Did you explain the situation?”

“Not entirely,” she said. “I cabled that there had been a little trouble but that you were just fine and you would write her with details when you were able.”

“That’s just swell, Dora! Why didn’t you write her yourself? The story is bound to get picked up even by the London newspapers.”

She nibbled at her lower lip. “I didn’t know how much you wanted me to tell her. I didn’t think about the newspapers. I suppose I’ve muddled things.”

I sighed and folded my arms. “If I ever turn to a life of crime, you’ll excuse me if you’re not exactly my first choice for an accomplice.”

She threw her hands into the air. “I’m sorry. I did my best, but it’s all been so difficult. The funeral was—” She broke off and I wasn’t sorry. I had read about it in the newspapers. The occasion had been attended by almost every white person in Kenya, as much for ghoulish curiosity as respect for the dead. I was glad I’d missed it. I hated funerals almost as much as I hated weddings.

She took out her handkerchief and sniffled into it.

“Stop sniveling, Dodo. It will all get sorted,” I soothed. “I have been in worse scrapes.”

“Scrapes? This isn’t a scrape, Delilah. You have been taken in for questioning about the murder of Kit Parrymore. Do you even comprehend that? If you are tried, you will be hanged.”

“Only if I’m convicted,” I pointed out.

“How can you be so calm? You are not human!”

She burst into sobs again and I waited until she had soaked a second handkerchief.

“How’s Lawrence?”

She snuffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “We’re getting married.”

“Congratulations. Do you want me to tell you now or later about his odd sexual proclivities?”

“He told me himself,” she said sternly. “I don’t care. He said when we’re married we will go to a new mission in Uganda, right away from here. And he doesn’t mind that I’m not interested in that side of things. We will have a Josephite marriage.”

“You’re joking.”

“I am not. Plenty of people do, you know. Particularly clergymen.”

“For Christ’s sake, Dora, there’s no need to play Charlotte Lucas and throw yourself at some odious man just because you don’t want to be an old maid.”

“I’m not an old maid!” she cried. “I’m not a virgin, you know. There, does that shock you? I’ve had experiences. And I don’t want them anymore. I’m finished with that sort of thing. I only want security, companionship. And so does Lawrence.”

She wiped her eyes, and all the fight seemed to have gone out of her after her little outburst.

“How stupid I am,” I murmured. “It was when I was off on safari, killing the lion that took the Kikuyu child, wasn’t it? You changed after that. Was he going to paint you?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “No. Evelyn and I were supposed to have a lesson, but she had to stay behind at the school and I went anyway. I knew it would be just the two