Death of a Hussy Read Online Free PDF

are you going to show that gratitude, Officer?’
    He was suddenly aware of her overpowering sexuality, of the expensive French perfume she wore, of being enclosed between walls of suffocating intimacy, and instinctively drew back. He thought, This is what a woman must feel like when a man is undressing her with his eyes.
    He hailed the arrival of Mrs Todd, Maggie’s housekeeper, with relief. ‘Good evening, Mrs Todd,’ he said. ‘It’s a while since I’ve seen you.’
    Mrs Todd was a small, sturdy woman dressed, despite the cold evening, in a black silk gown embroidered with jet that looked like an Edwardian relic. She ignored Hamish and Maggie and said to Alison, ‘Are you all right, Miss Kerr? I hope the festivities aren’t too much for you.’
    Mrs Todd’s normally hard features were softened by a maternal smile. ‘Thank you,’ said Alison in a little girl voice. ‘I’m feeling fine.’
    ‘I’ve just been up to the house and put a hot water bottle in your bed and a thermos of milk on the table,’ said Mrs Todd. ‘You’re to drink every drop of that milk, mind!’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Todd,’ said Alison meekly. Normally she was grateful for the house-keeper’s maternal warmth but just at that moment, she wished Mrs Todd would go away, that Maggie would go away, and leave her to talk to this odd policeman who was the first person who had ever guessed how she really felt.
    ‘You wouldn’t think I had good central heating,’ said Maggie crossly.
    ‘There’s nothing mair comforting than a nice hot water bottle,’ said Mrs Todd firmly.
    Maggie saw Colonel Halburton-Smythe and decided to go flirt with him to liven up the evening and try her hand with the copper later on. Alison watched her go with relief but then found that Mrs Todd was determined to stay. Hamish talked for a little to both Alison and Mrs Todd and then was claimed by Priscilla.
    ‘The guests are thinning out,’ said Priscilla. ‘Not long to go, Hamish. How’s Mrs Todd enjoying her job as housekeeper?’
    ‘She’s fond of that niece, Alison,’ said Hamish. ‘I suppose she enjoys the money. Mrs Baird is supposed to be rich. Also, it gives Mrs Todd an interest. She hasn’t done much since her husband died.’
    ‘When was that again?’ asked Priscilla.
    ‘Two years? Three? Can’t quite remember myself.’
    ‘And what do you make of Mrs Baird?’
    Hamish frowned. ‘She makes me uneasy,’ he said. ‘She’s the sort of woman who creates violence. I think she’s a bad woman.’
    ‘Why, Hamish Macbeth! You old-fashioned thing!’
    ‘No, I didnae mean scarlet woman. She’s spiteful to that niece of hers. She likes to be the centre of attention. She likes excitement. She think she likes affairs and yet she’s too fat to have much hope at the moment.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ said Priscilla, watching her father’s flushed and excited face as he spoke to Maggie Baird.
    Maggie was enjoying herself. She was aware, out of the corner of her eye, of Mrs Halburton-Smythe’s disapproval and that gave her a feeling of elation. A jealous woman acted on Maggie’s spirits like a shot of adrenalin. There was a long mirror beside her on the wall. She turned to look at herself.
    Robert Burns wrote:   
    O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us,
To see oursels as others see us, 
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
And foolish notion.   
    But Maggie Baird saw herself for the first and last time in her life as she really was and instead of freeing her from foolish notions, it set in motion a catastrophic chain of events.
    To see oneself as one really is – if one is ever unlucky enough to have that experience – is quite shattering. The veil of illusions and little vanities is rudely ripped aside. Maggie saw clearly a fat tweedy woman with once beautiful eyes narrowed by fat cheeks. She saw all the pettiness and meanness of soul. She saw the iron grey hair. She looked not only her age but a good bit more. Her hand fluttered up