to Aunt Berta’s machinations. There is always one indelible picture we carry of a person we know. For me the picture of Philippa was of a golden girl, glowing with health and vitality, wearing a copper-coloured gown and diamonds, leaning forward eagerly, as if to swallow every note that floated from the Covent Garden stage.
Slow footsteps approached along the hall. I turned. There was Philippa in the doorway. Although I had seen her only days ago at the races, a little shock ran through me, a memory of that evening at Covent Garden. And now here we were, both widows.
‘Hello, Kate. Thank you for coming.’
‘I didn’t know whether this was too soon. Throw me out if I’m intruding.’ We were not on intimate terms, certainly not hugging terms, but I couldn’t help myself. I went to her, and kissed her cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, Philippa.’
For a moment we were very still, and then she released me, saying, ‘Let’s sit down.’
I waited to take my lead from her as to where in this barn of a room, to sit. She went to a Queen Anne chair in the window alcove that had a partner, and there we sat. She leaned back in her chair, as if the slightest movement would be too much trouble. She wore an empire line mourning dress of softest crepe, square neck and long, loose sleeves. Her only jewellery was her wedding ring.
She spoke thoughtfully, as though from a long way off. ‘I’ve had to send for the dressmaker. Black was not something I expected to wear this September.’
It is not a good idea to put in your own two penny-worth when on a visit of condolence, but it just came out. ‘I didn’t wear black, because I expected Gerald was only missing and would come back. I fell out with his parents about it.’
She gave a sad smile. ‘You can be very stubborn. Unfortunately for me, the discovery of Everett’s body leaves no room for doubt. Though it still has not sunk in. I can’t believe that anything happening today is real.’
‘Have they let you see Everett?’
She bit her lip. ‘The hotel manager identified him. Apparently it’s not necessary for me to see him. I telephoned to Harold. He should be here from London by tonight.’
Harold is Baron Kirkley, Everett’s elder brother. In the normal scheme of things, he would have died first and the title passed to Everett.
‘Is it a relief that he will come?’
‘I suppose so,’ Philippa crossed her ankles. ‘Harold has already spoken to everyone who matters. There won’t be a formal announcement until Monday, thank God. Harold hopes to be able to hush up what happened, but I don’t see how he can. You can’t hide murder. I believe it was shock made him say that.’
‘But at least you won’t be dealing with this alone. That should be helpful.’
‘It ought to be, but Harold was not pleased about the divorce and he will not be glad to have this house back in his ownership, not without my cheque book to pay for the upkeep and running.’ She managed a small smile. ‘Who knows, he might have to marry and produce his own heir.’
She shivered, and picked up a shawl from a nearby stool. ‘This room is always cold, even in summer. Let’s go outside, unless you’re desperate for a drink.’
I followed her into the hall. She led the way down the steps from the terrace into the garden. To the side of the house, beyond the fountain, was the maze, created by some earlier Runcies from yew hedges.
Philippa looked across at the maze and began to stroll towards it, as if drawn by a magnet. ‘When I first came here, I imagined the day when our children would explore it with me. But of course we have no children, thank God.’
We walked in silence to the maze’s entrance. Philippa drew her shawl around her. ‘Now I come here to lose myself, and pretend that I’ll find a secret corner, a way into a different life.’
A man’s voice called, ‘Mrs Runcie!’
We both turned to see Philippa’s private secretary, the man I mistakenly christened Attila the Hun. I saw now that he was Genghis Khan, hurrying to catch up. He was a little out of breath, panting as he reached us, nodding a greeting to me, but clearly concerned about Philippa. ‘Would you like me to show Mrs Shackleton the garden, Philippa? Are you all right?’
‘Don’t fuss, Gideon.’
He hesitated for a moment, and then