The Death Chamber Read Online Free PDF Page B

probably hand over at the same time. Ten o’clock. That won’t be too early after your long drive
today?’
    ‘No, of course not.’ Georgina was conscious of a twist of pleasurable anticipation. Papers that had been Walter’s. Perhaps letters or photographs . . . She had not realized how
much she had been looking forward to reaching back and taking hold of a hand out of the past. She asked Vincent if he had been secretary of the Trust for long.
    ‘I have held the post for forty-one years,’ said Vincent, with a sad brave smile. ‘I came to Thornbeck as a young man of twenty-one, and the Society has been a major part of my
life since that day – I have written a great many articles and pamphlets about our work. It’s very sad for me to see it all ending – and seeing this house sold as well. It was
bought with the Kane bequest in 1940, you know.’
    ‘Well, no, I didn’t. I don’t actually know very much about any of it,’ said Georgina. ‘I do know my great-grandfather worked at Calvary Gaol in the 1930s, but other
than that—’
    ‘Ah, Calvary,’ said Vincent, infusing his voice with a kind of affectionate sadness. ‘Calvary, Miss Grey—’
    ‘Georgina.’
    ‘Calvary, Georgina, has been almost as much a part of my life as this Society. Who knows what happened inside those grim walls in the past?’
    He does like to ham it up, thought Georgina. I wonder if I ought to point out that his cravat is trailing in his tea cup? But Vincent, seeing she had finished her cup of tea, said she would be
wanting to unpack and have a rest after the journey. In fact, whatever must she think of him, keeping her talking. It was just that when he began talking about the Society – his life’s
work, it had been – he feared he could be a sad bore on the subject.
    It had not occurred to Georgina that anyone outside the pages of Jane Austen used ‘sad’ in quite that context any longer. She said it must have been absorbing work and she would look
forward to hearing more about it.
    ‘Well, if you’re
sure
you’ll be all right here?’ said Vincent, finally getting up to take his leave.
    ‘Quite sure. You’ve been very kind. I’ll see you in the morning,’ said Georgina firmly, in case he felt obliged to ask her out to dinner.
    But he did not. He only said, ‘I usually arrive here about half past nine. Oh, this is a key to the main street door in case you want to have a little look round the town later on, or walk
along to the King’s Head for a meal. But there’s eggs and cheese in the fridge, and some tins of soup in the cupboard.’
    Georgina listened to him going down the stairs and out through the main door, and then peered out of the window to watch him walk along the street. There he went – he was re-knotting the
cravat as he walked along and glancing in shop windows at his reflection. Still, vanity was not the greatest of the sins. She watched him for a moment and then was annoyed with herself for falling
victim to the curtain-twitching syndrome.
    It was half past six. She would have a shower and walk along to the King’s Head for a meal because she was blowed if she was going to spend the whole evening on her own, particularly since
she kept imagining David and the ex-business partner watching her, and saying, ‘Oh,
poorest
George, all on her own in that depressing room for the whole evening, eating tinned soup
and bread and cheese.’
    The room was not depressing at all, and Georgina did not in the least mind bread and cheese, but she would still take herself out to dinner.
    Vincent had debated whether to ask Georgina Grey, this great-granddaughter of Walter Kane’s out to dinner. The idea of walking into the King’s Head with her was
appealing – a number of the locals were sure to be there and everyone knew Vincent of course, so his appearance would cause a bit of a stir. My word, people would say, there’s Vincent
Meade with a lady. Life in the old dog yet, eh?
    But there were