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Miss Silver said,
“You may have to.”
Chapter XXXI
JOHNNY FABIAN drove Mirrie up on to the Common and off the road along a sandy track that doesn’t lead anywhere. Such a long time ago that most people had forgotten all about it a man called Sefton had tried to build a house there. The land being common land, he wasn’t allowed to get very far with it, and when he finally threw the whole thing up in disgust and went away, people from all the neighbouring villages came along and cleared the site. There really wasn’t much to take away-a few preliminary loads of bricks, a broken-down wheelbarrow, and a pile of gravel. It didn’t take long for the Common to come back to its own with a crop of loosestrife, and later on with seedlings of gorse, heather and birch. Today the only indication that there had ever been an invading house lay in the track which had led up to it, the rather more luxuriant growth which had followed the digging of the site, and the name of Sefton’s Folly.
Joh
Joh
“Some people like being all alone on the top of the world.”
“I don’t. I’d hate it.”
“Why?”
“I like people.”
He laughed again.
“Rows and rows of them-all in little houses exactly alike, with an aspidistra in the window?”
Mirrie gazed at him.
“Aunt Grace has an aspidistra. She is very proud of it. I had to sponge the leaves.”
“And you loved it passionately?”
“I didn’t! I hated it!”
“Darling, what a good thing! Because, easy as I shall be to live with, on that point my mind is made up, my foot is down, and my will is law. I won’t share a flat with an aspidistra!”
She went off into a peal of laughter.
“Oh, Joh
They were not looking at the view selected by Mr. Sefton. The Common stood high and there was quite a wide prospect. The bells of Deeping church came up into the silence in a very pleasing ma
Mirrie and Joh
“Darling, this is not why I brought you here.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Definitely not. The reason we are here is because I want to talk to you, and this is the sort of place where nobody is likely to butt in.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You-me-Sid Turner.”
She winced away from the mention of Sid’s name.
“I don’t want to. Joh
“Sorry, darling, but I do. If you didn’t want people to talk about Sid you oughtn’t to have asked him to the funeral.”
“Joh
“And you just took him off into the morning-room.”
“I didn’t! It was he who took me. I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Then why did you?”
“He made me.”
“Why did you let him?”
“I-I couldn’t help it.”
He took both her hands and pulled her round to face him.
“And now you’re not going to help talking to me! That is why we are here. Nobody’s going to come in and interrupt us, and if you were to scream for help until you hadn’t any more breath to scream with, no one would come. So just stop looking like a scared kitten. I am going to talk, and you are going to talk, and before we start I want to make it quite clear that lies are out.”
Her eyes were like saucers.
“Lies?”
“Yes, darling. Fibs, falsehoods, tarradiddles, and what have you! They’re out, and the reason they’re out is that you can’t put them across. Not with me. Every time you’ve lied to me I’ve known about it. You can’t get away with it, so why bother? I’m an expert liar myself, and you won’t ever be able to take me in. It’s the same principle as set a thief to catch a thief. And that being that, darling, what about Sid Turner?”
“S-S-Sid?”
He nodded.
“Yes, darling-Sid. The boy friend! That was the way he introduced himself, wasn’t it? Do you know, from what you have told me about Aunt Grace I shouldn’t have expected her to approve of him.”
“She d-doesn’t.”
“I’m not surprised. What does he do for a living?”
“I d-don’t quite know.”
Joh
“Don’t you ask no questions and you won’t be told no lies-that’s about the size of it, I should say! Always got plenty of money-better not ask where he gets it! Now to start with, he doesn’t always call himself Sid Turner, does he? That letter you dropped at the post office-that was to him, wasn’t it?”
She raised brimming eyes to his face, and then quite suddenly she put up her hands and covered them.
“Oh, Joh
“All right-that’s as good as a yes. It was to Sid. Now just carry your mind back to the day you wrote that letter and pretended to read it to me.”
“I d-did read it to you.”
“Not all of it, I think. And anyhow what you told me was that you were writing to Miss Ethel Brown who had been your schoolmistress. You told quite a lot of lies about that. First Miss Ethel Brown was your schoolmistress, and then you remembered that wouldn’t do because you went to the Grammar School. And then you said Miss Brown and her sister didn’t exactly keep a school-they had a few pupils, and you had promised to write and tell them how you were getting on at Field End. What you wrote in the part you read out to me was that Uncle Jonathan was so kind and he was going to leave you a lot of money in his will. I don’t know what was in the bits you didn’t read me, but what I do know is that none of it was written to Miss Ethel Brown. Because when you dropped the letter and I picked it up, it was addressed to Mr. E. C. Brown, 10, Marracott Street, Pigeon Hill, S.E. You pretended that he was Miss Brown’s brother, and that she was staying with him. And you might as well have saved your breath. You were just making it up as you went along, and you couldn’t have been doing it worse. So now I’m going to have the truth. The letter was to Sid Turner, wasn’t it?”
She gave a miserable little nod and two of the brimming drops ran down to the corners of her mouth.
“Did he tell you to write and let him know if Jonathan had settled any money on you?”
She nodded again.
“Oh, yes, he d-did.”
“And you always do everything he tells you? Nice obedient little girl, aren’t you! Come along-just what have you been up to with Sid?”
Mirrie burst into tears.
“Joh
He went on in the hard new voice which was making her cry.
“It’s not the least use your crying. You’ve got to tell me just how far you’ve gone with him.”
“Oh, Joh
He was watching her, his eyes as hard as his voice.
“He made love to you?”
“Only a l-little.”
“And just what do you mean by that?”
“Oh, Joh