She was slim; her shoulders were tense beneath a simple jersey suit from Switzerland. She reminded me of a picture of Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, for she had the same carefully arranged dark hair and beautifully made-up face. Only eyes and mouth hinted at the anguish she was trying to suppress. A superb tweed coat was flung over the back of her chair, and rings glinted on thin fingers.
“Hello,” I said, with my hands deep in my pockets. “I’m Sue Stephens.”
Mrs. Ashton surveyed me with all the enthusiasm of one presented with an untrained puppy. “This... is... Susan?” she asked her son. Her fine eyebrows indicated that “Susan” did not match up to expectations.
Ronald didn’t even blink. He rose, handing me to a chair from which he had to remove a substantial briefcase. He looked me over thoroughly, without prejudice, and then smiled. I didn’t think he normally smiled much; he wasn’t that kind. He was a very serious young man.
“Delighted,” he said, sounding as if he meant it. “Coffee or tea?”
“Black coffee,” I said faintly. “Please.”
“I give up!” announced Mrs. Ashton, veiling beautiful eyes with blue-veined lids. “I thought Charles at least, of all of you, might choose someone to do the family credit.”
“Charles knows what’s good for him,” said Ronald, disposing of that topic of conversation. A waitress materialised in response to a flick of his fingers. I thought Ronald had all the virtues; fancy being able to summon a waitress in the busiest coffee bar in town, just like that! Ronald wore a wedding ring; I wondered if Charles would wear one if he decided to get married. I thought he probably wouldn’t.
“You are ready to move now?” I asked, feeling slightly unreal. “Charles didn’t say anything about it last night when he phoned me.”
“Right up to early this morning he was hoping he could keep Uncle John away until everything was ready,” explained Ronald. “But Uncle John has to make a speech in Birmingham on Saturday night, and he won’t even consider cancelling it. They are flying back this evening, and will spend the night in a hotel in London. Charles apologises, but he won’t be able to ring you tonight. Tomorrow he and J.B. will be busy in London, and with any luck Charles will be able to persuade J.B. to go straight to Birmingham on Saturday. That way he should be safe until Sunday, when we will be ready to move. Did you bring my note with you?”
I handed it over. He shredded it up, together with the envelope, and burned the remains in an ashtray. He was very thorough.
“Charles has told Uncle John what’s going on, but Uncle John refuses to believe that his son really means to go through with it. He thinks that when it comes to the crunch, Julian’s nerve will fail him. He believes that Bianca is the brains behind all this, and if he can only split the marriage up, he may be able to salvage Julian. It’s possible. I’m not happy about it, but it is possible.”
“You’re taking a risk,” I ventured. “Couldn’t you just tell the police...”
“What would we tell them?” he asked soberly. “There’s no proof. No, we have to let them incriminate themselves, while taking every precaution we can think of to safeguard Uncle John. I’m doing my bit tonight, and if the worst comes to the worst, we could move after that, although we’d prefer a couple more days grace.”
“Can I help?”
“Yes. Charles wants you to go away for the weekend — at our expense, of course. He wants you safely out of the way when we move.”
I shivered. My coffee came, and I drank it, without sugar. I thought of pleading with him to let me stay and help, and then thought I’d better not.
“I’ll go home for the weekend,” I said. “I usually go once a month anyway. No need for a sub.”
They nodded approval. Mrs. Ashton’s eyebrows still indicated that she found my appearance disappointing. “Do you have to wear glasses all the time?” she asked.
“Yes, I do.” Her eyebrows now told me that she deplored not only the information, but the argumentative tone in which it had been given. “Sorry!” I said. “But that’s the way I am. Now don’t let’s get worked up about this. Charles and I had a great week together, but we might find we haven’t anything to say to each other when we meet again.”
Mrs. Ashton sighed. Ronald gave me a kindly,