Crooked Wreath Read Online Free PDF

one has to try.” She added, laughing, that anyway, Grandfather having cut her off with a shilling, she had to earn her living and it kept her out of the ATs.
    â€œWhat’s that about a shilling?” said Sir Richard, coming in from the river balcony.
    â€œDarling, I was saying that you having cut me off with one, I have to go on interviewing murdered bodies and asking Street Leaders how much they’ve collected for the Spitfire Fund and things. Look, Grandfather, here’s Stephen; oh, and, Stephen, here come Bella and Ellen.”
    â€œTime for a glass of sherry,” said Sir Richard with the naïve pride of one who, in 1944, still has Amontillado to offer. “I sent Edward to fetch the things; no use waiting for that palsied old crone we have now, and anyway it gives the boy something to do; keeps him from brooding over himself. He’s been off to town on his own now, Stephen, would you believe it? and came back filled with a pack of new nonsense, says if he looks up at anything he’ll drop whatever he’s carrying and go into a fugue or some such nonsense as that.” He pushed open the drawing-room door and stood aside for Bella and the girls to pass through.
    Over Serafita’s portrait the customary wreath of roses was hanging askew, and Edward stood staring up at it, a silver tray and a heap of broken glasses on the floor at his feet.

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    T HEY STOOD grouped in the doorway, aghast and staring, and even as they watched, Edward moved forward, picked up the decanter of sherry which stood on the table, held it against the light, apparently to see that it was sufficiently full, and, replacing it, sat down in an armchair. As Sir Richard went forward uncertainly into the room, he said quite normally: “I got the sherry for you, Grandfather.”
    Bella burst into a pantomime of little signs and twitches–Don’t say anything, Keep it from him, Leave it all to me. Edward asked blinking: “What on earth’s the matter with you, Bella?” Like the rest of the family he called his grandmother by her Christian name.
    Peta knelt to pick up the broken glasses. “She’s telling us not to tell you that you’ve had one of your little passing-outs, darling.”
    Edward looked pleased. “Good Lord–have I?” His clenched fists relaxed on the arm of the chair. Bella, however, pushed past them all and ran to him. “My poor boy! How do you feel now, darling? Just keep quiet, don’t worry, let yourself go …” and immediately the hands curled again; he went very white and after a moment, sitting staring at her, he suddenly pitched forward fainting onto the parquet floor. Philip forced Bella aside and kneeling beside him, took the slack wrist. “Somebody–Ellen–get my bag for me, would you? It’s on the top of the wardrobe thing in our room.” He said to Bella: “Hush, be quiet!” and they were all silent while he counted the pulse beats. “Nothing wrong with him; just a faint.” When Ellen returned with the black leather medical bag, he selected a bottle, gave an injection and remained sitting on the floor, gently massaging the wrist with the ball of his thumb. Sir Richard turned away, staring grimly out of the window as though he could not bear to watch the unconscious boy, the rolled up eyes and loosely lolling mouth; it was impossible to tell whether he was distressed or merely disgusted. He broke the silence at last to say, abruptly: “Peta, Claire, go and get more glasses from the pantry. No need to make our guest uncomfortable.”
    Stephen was already sufficiently uncomfortable. Edward, however, soon came round and, having asked with some lack of originality where he was, was able to receive with composure the news that it was still the drawing-room at Swanswater. Finding himself the centre of so much attention, he further added that he now felt fine and would like some lunch. “And I