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

‘So – what do we make of Richmond?’ he asked in a determined tone.

‘He’s nicer than his relations. But I didn’t follow a lot of his story. What happened after he was born? Who was his mother? Why is he so against Hilda? There’s a great big gap somewhere. I’m sure we’ve been told everything we need to fill it, but I’m too tired to figure it out.’

‘I expect Ben can fill the gap for us. I admit my attention wandered during some of that family stuff. My mind doesn’t work like Ben’s. I can never put myself into people’s heads like he seems to. That man doesn’t like Fabian much, does he?’

Simmy shrugged as if to say Who does? ‘Ben has a special knack. I hope I remember everything I need to tell him. Poor Richmond – what a terrible start in life. Caesareans were pretty unusual back then, so something must have gone wrong to need one. A massive emergency, in fact, which is why they sliced his arm off by mistake. Think how ghastly that must have been! And if he was an afterthought, following three or four others, they might not have wanted him anyway.’ She was obsessing over the details, imagining the cold, bright room, the blood and the horror. It inevitably took her back to her own first experience of childbirth and the way everything could go so terribly wrong.

‘Don’t dwell,’ said Christopher briskly, seeing the way her thoughts were going.

‘No – I won’t. We really do need Ben, though. All the facts will be recorded somewhere and he’s the man to find it.’

‘You make it sound pathetically simple.’

‘It probably isn’t. Why do I feel so busy all of a sudden, when it’s practically bedtime, and there’ll probably be two night feeds, and it’s the clinic tomorrow.’ She sighed heavily.

‘Not to mention an adopted baby squirrel,’ he reminded her.

‘Aaghh. I had forgotten all about that. What shall I feed it? Nuts? Worms?’

‘Don’t ask me. All I can think of is wholemeal bread, which seems to be good for most creatures.’

‘There must be a website about it. At least it seems to be old enough to need solids. I might have to breastfeed it otherwise.’ She hauled herself over to her laptop and searched for information. ‘Kale and fruit,’ she summarised. ‘I guess cabbage and apple will do, then. I’ve got both those. And it should have milk, apparently. Well, maybe water with just a bit of milk mixed in will do.’

‘This is very silly, you know. You should have left it where it was. It says here,’ he pointed over her shoulder, ‘that the mother is usually close by.’

‘Too late now.’ She found a quarter of white cabbage and a bright red apple, and cut them up. The squirrel was curled in the nest she’d made for it and showed no interest.

‘It’ll be dead by morning, I expect,’ Christopher predicted.

Privately, Simmy thought he was probably right. Nevertheless, she wanted to do her best for the little thing. When she’d finished she collapsed exhaustedly back onto the sofa and directed her thoughts to the following day. ‘I’m actually scared of the clinic, would you believe? It makes me all fluttery to think about it.’

‘Do you want me to come as well? What time is it? They won’t give him any injections, will they?’

‘It’s two o’clock in Ambleside. They do the injections terribly young now, but I think it’s six weeks, not three. I’m going to be in a seriously awful state for that. You don’t really need to come tomorrow. I don’t think they encourage fathers. Your work was done once he’d been delivered, as far as the medical people are concerned.’

‘I’ll definitely come for the injections. You hear such awful stories.’

‘Stop it! You sound like my father. And mother, come to that.’

‘Sorry. But you should hear Hannah and Lynne on the subject. They both went to some monstrous place in Penrith, where the woman was a certifiable sadist. Like something from the Spanish Inquisition, apparently.’

‘That was years ago. Didn’t one of them complain?’

‘Hannah did, yes. No wonder there’s such a persistent movement against vaccination, the way some people administer them. Torturing innocent babies for fun.’

‘I’m sure it’s better now,’ said Simmy firmly.

Chapter Sixteen

They were in bed by ten. Robin demanded sustenance at eleven-thirty and four-thirty, which was reasonable enough from his point of view, but resulted in sleep deprivation for both parents. In Simmy’s case it was made worse by swirling thoughts of murder and medical accidents and a driving sense of urgency that she could not properly account for. She slept fitfully and was bleary with Christopher when he brought tea at eight next morning.

‘Friday today,’ he said, and then gave his customary report, having gained an advantage over her by being downstairs already. ‘Your squirrel is still alive, and it’s eaten some apple. I didn’t interfere with it at all. I’m leaving it all down to you. I’ve had some toast and I’m off in five minutes’ time. There shouldn’t be much doing at work. I don’t suppose there’ll be any news about Josephine’s funeral.’ He paused and scratched his head. ‘Who’ll be arranging that, I wonder? She’s even shorter on family than you are.’

‘Not possible,’ said Simmy. ‘Except that now I’ve got you and Robin to bury me, I suppose.’

‘Josie knew a lot of people, but I don’t recall a single relative. Her father died ten years ago, and I don’t remember any mention of a mother.’

‘Oliver will know. Maybe he’ll have to do it himself.’

‘Serve him right if he does.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. After that lunch on Wednesday I’ve seen a different side of him. He didn’t come near the place yesterday, you know. Got some consultancy thing down south, apparently. That’s pretty much all he does these days.’

‘Consultancy on what?’

‘I told you that. He’s an expert at assessing the authenticity of old objects. He’s got a pretty big reputation by now.’

‘Lucrative as well, do you think?’

‘Only