Chapter 42. The Snarl Behind the Smile
That night Scarlet had the strangest dream. She was picnicking with Pom – a Watteau-like scene of countrified perfection. They lolled on a riverbank, dressed in party clothes with the best offerings of Fortnum & Mason spread out at their feet. But it seemed however much they laughed, lifting their glasses to each other, some desperate dread lurked right below the surface – clearing when in the stream beside them Miss Bottomley appeared on a raft. Night-clothed, disoriented and woebegone-looking she was swept downstream before Scarlet or Pom could react. Scarlet felt her clothes were an enormous weight, her limbs immovable, she could not even force her lips to shout. The terror was so immense Scarlet struggled to wake up. “This must be a dream.” And it was. She fell back against the pillows with relief. She had been given another chance. She must not waste it. What had she forgotten? Something connected with Miss Bottomley. Her preoccupation with Pom was causing her to neglect Miss Bottomley. Something – something – she forgot to do. But as often happens, the dream words melted away on the sand before she could read them. Was Miss Bottomley calling out for her? There was only one way to find out. Scarlet struggled into a bathrobe and slippers and hurried down the stairs. She heard it before she saw it, as she pushed the baize swing door some desperate struggle in the lighted kitchen. She threw the door open to see a slight figure kneeling over Miss Bottomley with a flail, beating and beating. Blood was everywhere, swirling patterns rising and falling to the very ceiling. The room stank like a charnelhouse. Scarlet sprang forward, grabbed the black clothed creature whose eyes beneath a ski mask swiveled up to confront her. Those eyes – mad with rage – were Candi’s eyes. Scarlet tore off the mask to reveal Candi’s demonic face. Candi shrieked – “You!” and attacked her. The club slipped from her hand and fell to the floor while the women struggled in a desperate embrace. Scarlet felt strong, but stupid – the other woman was wiry and crazed. “I’ve got to knock her out somehow,” Scarlet thought and with all her power forced Candi’s head against of the cast-iron Aga stove. Again and again she cracked it until Candi went down. Then she heard a siren, ear-splitting – and saw Enid aghast in the doorway. “What happened? I pressed the panic button!” “Call for an ambulance – Miss Bottomley’s been hurt.” Before she attended to Miss B she hogtied Candi with clothesline – no risking another assault. Candi seemed completely out of it but she was breathing. Miss Bottomley’s eyes were open. She was wearing the cursed red anorak over her nightclothes – bitterly Scarlet rued their casual swap. How much trouble this had caused! She had already received one warning about clothing confusion but she’d faild to grasp its meaning. “What happened?” gasped Miss B. “Did I fall?” Scarlet, hot with tears, pulled her wounded employer into her lap and began rocking her like a child. “You’re going to be all right,” she chanted. “We’re taking you to hospital.” The night guard appeared in the doorway, his mouth agape. “What happened?” “Somehow she got in and attacked Miss Bottomley. Enid called the police and ambulance.” “Oh my lord,” said the poor man, “Must have been when I went to the phone.” Miss Bottomley gasped and gasped. She clutched Scarlet’s hand so hard it was difficult to surrender her to the medics. As Scarlet climbed into the ambulance she could hear the night guard explaining to anyone who would listen, “I had to make my report.” “Don’t let the attacker go,” she drew his attention to the still immobilized Candi. She could hear the police siren, but she couldn’t wait for them. In the ambulance she asked herself, Was it this she had overlooked, inquiring who covered the guard when he needed a cup of tea or bathroom visit? Requiring him to phone the office meant Miss Bottomley’s home would be unguarded, if even for a moment. She could kick herself for not thinking it through. How easily we accept reassuring appearances without enquiring deeper! At the hospital Miss Bottomley was rushed away and Scarlet was given a blanket to cover her bloodstained nightclothes. She wished for the comfort of Enid’s presence but knew she must remain at Norfolk Crescent for Nick. She’d have to get through this alone. “May I speak to you, ma’am?” It was a London bobby, helmet removed, holding his notebook. “Sure,” said Scarlet in her exhausted American drawl. “What occurred precisely? Best you can recall?” “I must have heard something. I really don’t know why but I got up, thinking Miss Bottomley –“ “The injured party?” “Yes. She’s my employer. I thought she needed me. When I ran downstairs I heard them struggling. This woman Candi Pourfoyle must have come through the back entrance – there’s a guard on but he says he was making a phone call.” “There’s a guard?” interest in his gray eyes. “Well stone masons are building a new entrance at the back and there isn’t a door so they set a guard there. But he’s no good!” She bit her thumb angrily. “I wish I’d known he was going to be no good.” “Cup of tea?” A sympathetic sister approached. “Yes, please.” Scarlet accepted the white china cup – you could see the sugar they’d sloshed in. It was lukewarm but enormously comforting. “You recognized the attacker?” “Candi Pourfoyle, I told you. “ “And she is?” “My husband’s girlfriend. I don’t know if she thought Miss Bottomley was me or not – poor Miss B. was wearing my anorak – but Candi would have to come through the kitchen and if Miss B was there –“ “Hold on now, please. What exactly did you see?” “They were both on the floor. Candi was beating her with a club – blood everywhere. I pulled her off, knocked her out and tied her up with clothesline. Enid woke up and called the police.” “You knocked her out? Did you have a weapon?” “No. I wish I had. But I bashed her head against the stove.” The bobby patted her knee. “That’s a ghastly experience,” he said sympathetically. “Dreadful.” And it’s only going to get worse, Scarlet could tell from the doctors’ faces as they pushed through the operating theatre doors. She stopped trying to be strong and burst into tears.
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November 2021
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