A Little Death Read Online Free PDF

because that won’t help poor Master Freddie, will it? I want you to do what you’re told as quick as you can and we’ll soon have things put in order.’ Then she started telling us we had to scrub floors and sweep the yard. We weren’t best pleased about having to do such rough work, which, as I say, we didn’t normally.
    Someone said, ‘Where’s Jenny?’ because those were her jobs by rights.
    But Mrs. Mattie fairly bit her head off: ‘Never you mind about Jenny. If you want to keep your place, you’ll stop asking questions and get on with your work.’
    Well, of course we all wanted to know what was going on—we were only human—but that got us working in a flash. Ellen and I were put to scrubbing down the passage, which didn’t make us very happy, but that was how come we knew a policeman had been called, because him and Mrs. Mattie were outside in the yard and we could hear them talking through the broken window. The two of us were right underneath it on our hands and knees, trying to hear what was going on. ‘Perhaps you could show me where it happened?’ That was the policeman.
    Ellen whispered, ‘Whatever does she want with a copper?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ I put my head up a bit so I could see. ‘Oh, it’s only the bobby from the village.’
    ‘Well, he won’t do much, he’ll be too frightened of Mr. Lomax.’
    That was true enough, because he wasn’t doing anything that I could see, just saying, ‘Oh, it’s a bad business, a terrible business,’ over and over again. They walked out of sight behind the hedge for a moment and we couldn’t hear, but when they came back, Mrs. Mat-tie was saying something about would he like to speak to the doctor and the policeman said, ‘Has he finished examining the body?’
    Ellen’s eyes were like saucers. ‘What body?’ Then we heard the back door go and we scrambled back to our places and scrubbed for all we were worth while Mrs. Mattie and the policeman came past. The moment they’d gone, down went our brushes. Ellen’s face was stark white, like chalk. ‘There’s been an accident and Master Freddie’s been killed,’ she said. ‘Oh, Ada, isn’t that the most terrible thing in the whole world?’

GEORGINA
    Mr. Victor Mishcon, a solicitor, yesterday visited Hollo-way Prison, London, and saw Mrs. Ruth Ellis, who is due to be hanged today for the murder of David Blakely. The Home Secretary on Monday decided not to recommend a reprieve.
I’m not at all surprised. Little tart. Who else has died?
Dr. Kenneth Macleod, who collected many traditional Hebridean airs and songs and composed the well known ‘Road to the Isles’…
Probably bored himself to death. But then Ascot—I wish I were there. It looks
so…
but it’s probably not worth going, nowadays. Princess Margaret in a dreadful hat. And the Queen wrapped in a herbaceous border. Or perhaps they’re fried eggs. Well, they could be.
Sussex, glorious view, handy for Tunbridge Wells… Mains water and electricity, septic tank drainage, heated henhouse. In all about three acres. Auctioneers Harrods Ltd, Kensington 1490. Heart of Kent, 15th-century residence… An all electric house in the luxury class… 3 staff bedrooms… hard court… Only £9000
freehold… Only! Not on your nelly, as Ada would say. What have we got today? One Across:
The field marshal turns back to the commanding officer and it ends.
So
it
ends the word. Need capital letters… FM and CO… field marshal turns back—MF. How many? Six. CO-MF-IT. So, then.
In the matter of tongues it started at Babel, starting
with a C.
Well, that’s confusion, that’s simple enough.
Claims in the manner of two degrees…
have to think about that.
    Who’s this coming past the window? Looks rather like Vivienne Wyatt. She was as mad as a hatter. Had an imaginary dog she used to take for walks in the square. She was dreadfully upset when they came and took all the railings away for the war effort. ‘Poor darling Poopsie, he’s bound