The Ullswater Undertaking by Rebecca Tope (read dune .TXT) 📕

a slanderous accusation. The idea didn’t come from me, remember.’ He forced a laugh. ‘And I don’t find it very convincing, anyway. He might have done it all those years ago, but it’s a bit late in the day now.’ He looked from one face to the other. ‘I think we should all be very careful in what we say. You’ve both got your teeth into this. I hadn’t realised.’ He sat back, his eyes narrowed. ‘And it’s a dangerous game to be playing. Haven’t you got better things to do?’ He looked meaningfully at the baby.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Christopher. ‘As Simmy said, we all want the same thing. And we’re all a bit overwrought, with everything that’s happened.’

‘That’s true,’ Oliver managed a forgiving smile. ‘Pity poor Fiona, trying to revive a murdered woman slumped between all those filing cabinets.’

Before Simmy could pick him up on this new detail, Christopher interrupted with some comment about coffee. Then Oliver’s phone rang and he turned away for a brief conversation. Simmy felt weak. She was discovering how little affection she felt towards Oliver. She did not like being snapped at for making perfectly reasonable remarks. Luckily, her baby son was impressively telepathic and began an insistent whimpering on Christopher’s shoulder, bobbing his heavy head up and down, and stiffening his back.

‘He’s bored,’ she said. ‘Nobody’s paying him any attention.’

This was handsomely rectified, not only by the doting parents, but a strange woman who crossed the room to croon and exclaim over the adorable little darling. Oliver sat back, giving an eerie impression of a neglected baby himself. The meal was obviously over, and they took their leave after a few more minutes. Christopher made a token objection to having it paid for by his partner, but Oliver was adamant. Simmy could see that it fed his self-image nicely to be seen as a man of largesse and tried to convey to her fiancé that he did no good by protesting.

In the car, with Robin far from happy to be squashed back into his uncomfortable seat, Simmy remembered her promise to Pattie. ‘Can we go back to the auction house for a bit?’ she asked. ‘If that Pattie person is still there, she can play with Robin.’

‘Fine by me,’ Christopher agreed. ‘Oliver won’t be there, which is just as well. Seems to me you’ve had enough of him for one day. And I dare say the feeling’s mutual. You didn’t make much effort to charm him, did you?’

‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘But he’s not my type of man. Much too pleased with himself. Do you like him?’ she wondered. ‘I’ve never heard you say anything against him.’

‘He’s been good to me, so I feel grateful to him. The fact is, we don’t coincide much. He only comes in a couple of days a week now. I know he hasn’t given up with business completely, but much of what he does is outside. He goes all over the place, doing valuations mostly. He’s in big demand as an expert, spotting fakes and all that.’

‘You mean pictures?’

‘Not so much. More along the lines of ivory and tortoiseshell, I think. It’s illegal to buy anything made since 1947, so there’s big business in making things look older than they are. Oliver’s got a very good eye for that. He’s been asked to give opinions on old documents as well. There must be similar clues, I guess – rubbing cold tea into things, and using the wrong ink.’

‘That doesn’t sound very scientific,’ she teased.

‘No, well – it’s completely beyond my pay grade. I can spot hairline cracks and the wrong sort of screws, but it doesn’t go much further than that.’

‘And Oliver cares, does he? I mean, he thinks the rule about ivory and so forth is a good one?’

‘I couldn’t say how he feels about it. But it’s bad for business if a lot of wrong stuff gets through. Undermines confidence, so it gets to the point where nobody’s going to touch even the genuine things. If you press me, I’d say what he really likes is the reputation of being an expert. Does wonders for his image – and pays pretty well, if it’s something important. I gather he’s darn good at it. Those Hitler diaries would never have got past him, if anybody had asked his opinion.’

They were at the auction house, which was showing little sign of life. ‘Most of them have gone home, by the look of it,’ said Christopher. ‘But Pattie’s still here – that’s her car.’

Simmy extracted Robin from his seat and followed Christopher into the reception area, feeling self-conscious. She could see the main saleroom through a glass-panelled door and thought back to the handful of times she had attended a sale there. The shelves and tables were almost empty now, waiting for fresh deliveries of goods the following day. ‘Why are there things there already?’ she asked.

‘Left over from last time. Some of the regular vendors have an arrangement to let stuff go through again. Officially they’re all meant to take it away, but we make some exceptions.’

She wasn’t sure she quite followed this explanation. ‘You mean if nobody bidded for it?’

‘Mostly, yes. It’s not exactly that simple, but you don’t need to know all the details.’ He was speaking over his shoulder as he peered into first one office and then another. ‘Where is everybody?’ he called.

The man who functioned as a general dogsbody appeared at the main door, through which Simmy and her family had just entered. ‘Hello again,’ he said chirpily. ‘Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.’

‘Pattie wanted to see the baby when he was awake,’ said Christopher. ‘Oliver’s gone off for now. Back to normal tomorrow, then?’

‘Seems like,’ nodded the man, who Simmy remembered was called Jack. ‘Won’t be like normal without Josie, though.’ He sniffed with a sudden naked emotion. ‘Poor old girl. What a thing to happen. What a thing, eh?’

His gnomish little face contorted and Simmy wondered whether everyone had overlooked