The Honours Read Online Free PDF

the threshold.

    â€˜Lord Alderberen is in bed, owing to his dyspepsia,’ the maid was saying, her little voice resonating as the corridor opened out around her. ‘Wait here in the Great Hall and I’ll see who’s about.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Mother stood in the middle of a chequered marble floor, like the last piece in a chess game. ‘Are you sure he’s well enough to be receiving guests?’
    â€˜Oh yes, ma’am.’ The maid shot a wistful look towards the domed ceiling. ‘It comes and goes. Always seems to flare up when he’s got visitors. He’s a martyr to his dyspepsia.’
    â€˜Can’t they do anything for it?’
    â€˜You’d have to ask Dr Lansley about that,’ the maid called, retreating through a side door with their cases. ‘He knows everything that goes on here.’
    A slam boomed through the Great Hall.
    Mildly buoyed by Mother’s irritation, Delphine looked around at portraits of dull ancestors, the grand staircase and the crimson carpet that flowed like lava from the landing above. At the top of the stairs was a painting of a wan young lady with sad eyes and buttery hair. Above the painting, an alabaster frieze showed bulls trampling aphalanx of spear-wielding hoplites on giant ostriches. Electric lights glared in brass fittings. The whole place smelt of polish and hospitals.
    â€˜Don’t wander off again.’ Even with her voice lowered, Mother’s rebuke rang off the walls. ‘Come here. And don’t look at me like that. You’re still in disgrace.’
    Delphine began walking to Mother across the chessboard tiles. She stopped. In the light from the tall portico windows, Mother looked angular and old. She had lost a lot of weight. Her head looked like muslin stretched over a pine-cone.
    â€˜Come here now .’
    Delphine lifted her right foot. She held it over the boundary between one square and the next. She looked at Mother.
    â€˜Please, Delphine.’
    Delphine did not move.
    â€˜Now!’ The word resounded emptily, a thunderclap.
    Delphine thought of Mother crumpled on the floor, of how Daddy had stepped over her, and felt a sickly, creeping scorn. She withdrew her foot like a knife. Mother blinked. Delphine turned away.
    Her chest was pounding. She stared at the oak-panelled wall and waited for the tide to come crashing back in. Seconds passed. The expected slap to the back of the head did not come. Mother was not going to correct her.
    Fear gave way to a numb, terrifying freedom.
    â€˜Mrs Venner?’
    Delphine turned and saw him: a tall man in hunting tweeds, around Daddy’s age, with oily black hair and a narrow moustache. He began descending the stairs, smoothing a gloved hand along the polished bannister. His slicked-back hair, receding at the temples, gave the impression he was moving at speed.
    Mother’s jaw worked dumbly. At last, she nodded.
    The man stopped two steps from the bottom. He held out his palm. A wire ran from his ear to a large battery hanging from his belt. Plugged into the top of the battery was a microphone the size of a digestive biscuit. Mother crossed the floor and placed her hand in his. The man bowed.
    â€˜Dr Lansley, Lord Alderberen’s personal physician,’ he said, almost shouting. ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance.’
    Mother smiled. Delphine folded her arms.
    â€˜Very nice to meet you,’ said Mother.
    Dr Lansley kept hold of her palm. Her wedding ring caught the light and sparked.
    â€˜I hear the Earl is unwell,’ Mother said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The maid said his dyspepsia – ’
    â€˜Yes, yes. Alice gets overexcited, silly thing.’ Dr Lansley placed two fingers in the small of Mother’s back and began guiding her away from the stairs. ‘Nothing to worry about – some boiled milk and a good night’s sleep and he’ll be quite restored, I’m sure. Now, would you care to take the guided