No jury on earth would have convicted her. Any right-minded person would have felt the same. It was rather a pity that she didn't actually mean it.
âMy father's legacy!' the famous voice gurgled, half-way between a laugh and a sob. âShe's the only legacy I had from him â another millstone around my neck. Just to make sure that I really miss him!' She pushed her plate aside and buried her head in her arms on the table, small semi-hysterical gurgling noises still coming from her.
âJust because she said she wouldn't evict you,' I tried to cheer her, âdoesn't mean you can't throw her out.'
âOh, no?' Matilda lifted a tear-stained face. âThat wasn't a promise â that was a threat. She's on her best behaviour because you're here to witness it. She was reminding me that, if I tried to get rid of her, she'd call a press conference and denounce me. And wouldn't the tabloids love that?'
They certainly would. I shuddered. They'd tear Matilda apart, resurrect old scandals â why was I so sure that Soroya and Matilda's father would figure prominently in them? â and generally have a field day at her expense and possibly the expense of the play.
âMy father's legacy!' Matilda said bitterly. âShe was only married to him for the last three years of his life â the old fool! She soon found out he wasn't the catch she thought he was. I don't see how she can imagine he had anything to leave.'
There wasn't much I could say to that. I made what I hoped were soothing and sympathetic little noises and
wondered how long it would be before the others got back. Maybe I could remember an urgent appointment someplace else.
âTo be fair,' Matilda said reluctantly, âI suppose he did tell her the house belonged to him. He lied about everything else, why not that?'
I made more noises. And people think Hollywood kids had it tough! I guess the children of any actors anywhere have a lot to contend with. But some of us have a better grasp on reality than others.
âOh, well,' Matilda was talking herself into a better mood, âat least she isn't around too often. Her work keeps her out of the country most of the time. And I can't see her ever retiring â she likes all the attention too much. Of course, she might fall out of favour, or be supplanted by another actress, but I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.'
âActress?' Had I missed something? I'd thought I was pretty well up to date in what was going on in the profession and who was who. âI'm afraid I didn't recognize â¦?' A likely thought struck me. âPerhaps she's on permanent tour as Madame Arcati in
Blithe Spirit?”
âBetter than that.' Matilda was definitely seeing the silver lining now. âShe's very big in Bombay. Bollywood films. Enormous, in fact. They love her â if not quite for the right reason. She's cornered the market in Memsahibs from Hell.' She gave a hiccoughing little laugh. âSheer type-casting, of course.'
It figured. âShe'd be good at it,' I said. âA sort of Katisha in a sari.'
âExactly. And the beauty of it is that she doesn't realize it. She thinks she's playing a sympathetic leading role, helping the young lovers to get together, when she's really terrorizing them and keeping them apart.' She gave another semi-hysterical laugh.
âHave another cup of coffee,' I urged. âPerhaps with a dash of brandy in it?' If Evangeline had left any, that is.
âThank you, that sounds â No! What am I saying? What
are you doing? You're a guest in my house, you shouldn't be waiting on me!'
âI don't mind,' I said truthfully. âYou just sit there and take it easy. It sounds as though you've been having a rough time lately.'
âIt's been hell!' Matilda admitted. âAfter the dog died, Cecile refused to go near the theatre. I've had to rehearse with her understudy â who's about twenty-six and piles on so much make-up trying to look Cecile's age that she can hardly hold her head up. It threw everything out of balance â as though Teddy weren't bad enough. And Cecile stayed locked up in her room here with that dog's body, howling her head off!'
âI suppose that's understandable.' I found myself defending Cecile. âShe and Fleur were together for about twenty years. Most marriages don't last that long.'
âHers certainly didn't. Nor did my father's. It may be understandable, but it was very unprofessional!' Matilda took a deep breath and added regretfully, âIf only my father had lived a few more years, he'd have divorced Soroya, too, and I wouldn't have been left with this problem.'
âMmm â¦' I wasn't going to go into that. The gossip I remembered hearing about the late Mr Jordan led me to suspect that, if he'd divorced Soroya, it would only have been to marry a teenage lapdancer.
Where was Evangeline? Where was Eddie? Where, even, was Dame Cecile? I cast around unhappily for a way to change the subject. When the good guys got this beleaguered in a film, it was the cue for the US Cavalry to appear on the horizon, riding to the rescue. Where were they?
I became aware of movement at the doorway, but at floor level. It was none of the above, but any distraction was welcome. Especially this one.
âCho-Cho-San!' I cheered. âYou got away from her!'
âMore than my father ever did.' Matilda was still brooding.
âWas Cho-Cho-San your father's cat?' The explanation for her calling Soroya a liar occurred to me.
âOh, no!' Matilda laughed bitterly. âAll his attention was taken up by two-legged cats. He had no time for any four-legged ones.'
âYou said something about fish earlier.' Firmly I pulled the conversation back to the essentials.
âThat cupboard over there â¦' Matilda waved in the general direction. âThis establishment doesn't run to cat food, I'm afraid, but you'll find all sorts of seafood there.'
Not quite. There was one tin of tuna and two of salmon â one of them dented. I reached for the tin of tuna â the good old-American comfort food.
âI'll split it with you,' I told Cho-Cho-San, realizing anew just how hungry I was. I'd given up on the eggs. In fact, I was beginning to get a fated feeling about them. Who else might show up to claim them if I tried to cook more?
Cho-Cho-San leaned against my ankles in happy agreement as I wrestled with the ringpull, then I remembered I'd used the last of the bread for Soroya's toast. I zeroed in on a breadbox under the cabinet, but found only a very sad-looking wholemeal loaf. Still, if I trimmed off the greenish crusts, the centre was probably safe to eat.
Returning to the fridge, I found I'd used the last of the butter scrambling the eggs. The mayonnaise jar was empty, the cream cheese stood in a puddle of liquid while the top of the cheese was parched and cracked and shrouded in dark blue mould. The chutney was a dark solidified lump at the bottom of the jar and something whose stained and sticky label proclaimed it to be some sort of relish looked so sinister that I didn't bother to open it.
âHow long have you been without a housekeeper?' I asked, dribbling a bit of oil from the tuna across the stale bread.
âOh ⦠two or three weeks. Perhaps longer. I've lost track. We've been so busy rehearsing ⦠and then we eat
out afterwards. I only got round to interviewing a new one a couple of days ago. Why?'
âJust wondering â¦' Matilda was obviously akin to Evangeline: so long as there was a restaurant open, the kitchen held no interest for her.
âThat reminds me â¦' Matilda's brow wrinkled. âWhere is Mrs Temple? She was supposed to start work this morning.'
Poor Matilda. Life was just one problem after another for her. Opening night looming, an unwanted stepmother who had moved in, a housekeeper who had decamped without ever having worked for a day â and it couldn't have been much fun to have Dame Cecile stalking around playing the tragedienne since the demise of Fleur-de-Lys.
My own problems paled into insignificance. Actually â fingers crossed â I didn't have that many problems at the moment.
In fact, if my daughter was going to surprise me with the announcement I hoped for, everything was wonderful.
At my feet, Cho-Cho finished her tuna and curled around my ankles again, purring lyrically. I bent and gathered her into my arms, stroking the silky fur while a feeling of immense well-being settled over me. I tried to share it with Matilda.
âDon't worry, everything will sort itself out. Cecile will carry on with the show. Soroya can't hang around too long, if she has all those commitments in Bollywood. Your new housekeeper is bound to turn up sooner or later, probably she got caught up in some train delay. There's absolutely nothing to worry â '
The slam of the front door and a series of piercing screams halted me in mid-sentence.
âYou think so, do you?' Matilda cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at me before standing to face the doorway and whatever new crisis was heading towards us.
The front door slammed again and a loud angry voice rose over the screams. Another slam of the front door â they
must be slamming it in each other's faces â was followed by a sudden ominous silence.
It appeared that lunch had not gone well. Perhaps I hadn't made such a bad choice after all.
âI have a raging headache!' Evangeline tottered into the room and slumped into the chair Matilda had just vacated.
âI've got indigestion,' Eddie complained, leaning against the wall.
âThe pizza parlour was your idea!' Evangeline snapped.
âYeah, well, sorry about that. I thought she might not make a scene in a place like that. It being out of 'er depth, sort of.'
âHah!' Evangeline spat bitterly. âHah!'
Matilda and I stood watching the doorway. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
âPerhaps she's gone straight up to her room?' I suggested hopefully. Matilda shook her head. It was too much to hope for.
It certainly was. It was just the calm before the storm. I remembered the mirror in the front hall and realized that Dame Cecile had merely paused to check her hair and make-up and, possibly, adjust her expression, before returning to the fray â and fresh victims.
âGet that beast out of my sight!' She appeared in the doorway, attempting to skewer me with a laser-like glare. âYou traitor!'
âTraitor? Me?' I clutched Cho-Cho-San to me protectively, aware that Evangeline and Eddie were relaxing slightly now that Dame Cecile's wrath was turned elsewhere.
âYou!' Dame Cecile advanced slowly, one finger pointing in accusation. âYou! Deserting my poor Fleur for that â that â ' Cho-Cho-San stretched out her neck and sniffed at the pointing finger, then tried to rub against it. Dame Cecile snatched it away as though it had been burned.
âYou!' She backed a few paces. âI shall never forgive you!'
It was a shame she didn't extend the edict to include never speaking to me again.
âTrixie was right.' Unusually, Evangeline weighed in on my side. “The cat is alive. There was nothing anyone could do for Fleur. The living must come first.'
Eddie began shaking his head frantically and making shooshing gestures. Abruptly, I remembered that Fleur's was not the only corpse we had left behind in the blazing shop.
âWhat's going on here?' Matilda was no fool. âWhere
did
you get that cat? She lives on the other side of town.'
âShe does? Then who â ?'
âGet that wretched beast out of my sight!' Dame Cecile was off again.
âPerhaps it would be as well to take her into another room,' Matilda murmured. âAt least, until Cecile calms down a bit.'
âI heard that!' Dame Cecile trumpeted. âAnd I am perfectly calm!'
âOf course you are.' Evangeline did a
Get out of here!
jerk of her head towards the door and I was glad to slide away.
âStrewth!' Eddie had followed me from the room. âAnd I thought you two were the bleedin' limit!'
âDon't be rude. You know we're pussycats.'
âThe only pussycat around here is this one.' He held out his hand to Cho-Cho, who sniffed it thoroughly and approved. She rubbed her head against it. âPretty little thing, nice nature. What was she doing in that place?'
âWaiting to be stuffed.'
âNever!' Eddie paled. âBut she isn't dead.'
âExactly.'
âBut â¦' Eddie went from pale to green. âYou don't mean â¦'
âThere was an empty display case waiting for her. And the instructions for mounting were attached to her cage.' I felt a trifle better at having someone to confide in, even
though Eddie was looking worse with every word as the full implications sank in.