Only the Cat Knows

by Marian Babson

  ‘Oh, usual hysterics and such. Houseful of women — what do you expect?’ He shrugged uncomfortably. ‘One of the silly little cows tried to top herself.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  But he had tugged at Brutus’s chain and they were walking away at a brisk clip. Too brisk for a supposed invalid to catch up with them.

  Chapter Nine

  Before I was halfway across the sitting room, I knew I was in trouble.

  Gloriana stalked forward, nose quivering, whiskers twitching, fur bristling. Her accusing glare brought on an attack of instant guilt — and I didn’t even know what I had done.

  I was going to find out. She advanced relentlessly, upper lip curled back, nose working overtime.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ But I knew. I was the matter.

  She stopped in front of me, just out of reach, and gave me that look. The look of a betrayed bride whose husband has just reeled home reeking of gin and another woman’s perfume. And with lipstick on his collar.

  ‘Now look —’ I followed her gaze and saw the damning evidence of dog hairs sprinkled all over my kaftan.

  That was it. I was guilty of consorting with the enemy. Treason, treachery and betrayal. The evidence was in clear sight, even for those with no sense of smell.

  It wasn’t my fault,’ I said. ‘I can explain. I didn’t encourage him. I don’t even like him.’

  That’s your story! She turned away, her tail jerking upwards in the feline version of a two-fingered salute, and stalked away. The divorce papers were in the post.

  I hurled the offending kaftan into the laundry bag and donned a fresh, uncontaminated one.

  She’d come round. Wouldn’t she?

  There was a full complement at dinner that evening, I was relieved to see. Either someone had made a quick recovery, or the ‘silly little cow’ was a member of staff.

  Even Madame was already at the table when I arrived, not inordinately late. In line with Monica’s suggestion that I could use some extra rest, I had skipped the drinks session in the library.

  There was a low murmur of greetings as I took my seat, then the silence descended again. It appeared that they all had a lot to think about.

  So had I.

  Two women had now nearly lost their lives in this establishment. Surely that was above the law of averages.

  Was there a connection between them? Probably. It was too much of a coincidence, otherwise. Especially as there had been an abortive initial attempt to pass off Nessa’s fall as an attempted suicide.

  Not much imagination being used, then. And the attempt bungled both times.

  I looked down the table at Ivor. Incompetence, thy name is Beloved.

  Sensing that he was being watched, he raised his head abruptly and met my gaze with a sickly smile.

  I looked away hastily. There might be things one had to do in the line of duty, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for them yet.

  ‘And how are you this evening, Madame?’ I asked softly.

  ‘I survive.’ She shot me a bleak look. ‘I advise you to do the same.’ She pushed back her chair and rolled away. Richie immediately rose and followed her.

  Her exit passed unremarked. Perhaps it was her usual manner of leaving. She seemed to have eaten most of her meal and no one bothered about desserts around here. If I could manage a trip into town, I was going to lay in a stock of chocolate bars. Man does not live by entrées alone.

  Surprisingly, Ivor was the next to leave. Did that mean he’d be waiting in ambush for me in the cloister? I decided to join the others for coffee tonight. Let him cool his heels literally in the chill wind that swept along the monks’ walkway.

  On the theory that the description ‘silly little cow’ could best be applied to one of them, I carried my coffee over to the corner where Kiki and Nina were sitting. Was it my imagination that hostile looks seemed to follow me?

  ‘Mind if I join you?’

  There was a flutter of surprise, then agreement. As usual, they were huddled at the back, near the false bookcase that provided their emergency exit. Nina threw an anxious glance towards it as I sat down.

  They both looked much the same as when I had last seen them. No shadows under the eyes, no pallor or nervous twitches. In fact, they looked better than I did — but my appearance was largely due to heavy make-up. They were wearing the minimum.

  ‘You’re looking better,’ Kiki said; the inspection had been mutual. ‘Are you?’

  ‘I think so.’ I smiled wanly, then remembered that I was supposed to be improving enough to wangle a trip to town. ‘I’m feeling a bit stronger … physically, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, good!’ Nina said. ‘Then you must come to tea with me tomorrow and see my studio. You know, you promised you would.’

  ‘Mmm …’ I was sure I hadn’t agreed to anything so definite, but it might not be a bad idea. I had to start moving around and learning more about the place.

  ‘And you, too, of course.’ She looked at Kiki, who seemed no more enthusiastic than I was, but obviously didn’t want to miss anything.

  ‘If you’re sure it’s no trouble …’ I said.

  ‘Oh, none at all,’ Nina assured me. ‘I’ll just let Monica know and she’ll send everything along.’

  ‘Monica is so good about that.’ Was there a trace of irony — mockery — in Kiki’s voice? Her face was expressionless.

  ‘Isn’t she?’ Nina agreed wholeheartedly. ‘It’s so wonderful here. All you have to do is ask for something — and it’s yours! Almost like having a magic genie. This is the perfect place for an artist!’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Unmistakably, there was a wry twist to Kiki’s mouth.

  A soft riff of melody swirled across the room and I saw that Yvonne had seated herself at the grand piano in the far corner and was moodily picking out one of the songs that had earned her that brief fame. ‘Songs of Yesteryear’ they would be called now.

  Another faint sound behind us brought Kiki to an upright alert position. She didn’t turn, but it was obviously an effort not to. Nina cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, then another at me to see if I’d noticed anything.

  Of course, I hadn’t. I was watching Yvonne raptly, giving no indication that I had heard that faint click of a latch being released on the concealed door, or the other faint click as the door closed again.

  They both relaxed. I hadn’t noticed a thing. Not the heads rigidly refusing to turn, not the tensed muscles of legs that wanted to spring into action. I was as innocent — dumb — as they hoped I would be.

  ‘She’s so talented,’ I purred, all my attention still on Yvonne, who had begun to subvocalize softly along with the music. ‘Such a pity that she, um, retired so early.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Kiki’s lips quirked again. ‘And she’s such a sweet person, too.’ The look she exchanged with Nina said that there was a lot they could tell me about Yvonne — if I asked the right questions. But not here, not now.

  That was all right with me. There were plenty of other questions.

  ‘I saw Dr Anderson arriving this morning. I thought his visiting days were Tuesdays and Fridays. He seemed to be in quite a hurry. Nothing wrong, I hope?’

  ‘Not seriously,’ Kiki drawled. ‘One of the maids went off the deep end and needed a bit of seeing to. Nothing to do with any of us.’

  Just one of the hired hands. So that was all right then. I wondered where Nessa stood in their scheme of things: one of the entourage or another of the hired hands?

  ‘I’m glad it wasn’t the one who cleans my studio.’ Nina was completely self-absorbed. ‘I’ve just got that one trained to leave things alone. They may look messy to her, but they’re meant to be that way’

  ‘That’s what you always say,’ Kiki taunted. ‘The state of your studio betrays a mind that —’

  ‘I’ve got to get back to work now.’ Nina stood abruptly.

  ‘You always rim away just when the subject threatens to become interesting.’ Kiki tilted an eyebrow. ‘An
d the excuse is always your work. Doesn’t that suggest anything to you?’

  ‘And what work do you do?’ I cut in quickly It was as near to a cue as I was obviously going to get.

  ‘I’m working on a book. You don’t even remember that?’ Kiki was incredulous. ‘When we’ve talked about it so much? When you’ve agreed how important it will be?’

  I shrugged, revising my earlier opinion: they were all self-absorbed around here.

  ‘Kiki —’ Nina leaned over me, half-whispering, a glint of malice sparking in the depths of those dreamy eyes. ‘Kiki is writing Mr Oversall’s autobiography for him. She’s a ghost!’

  Another one? There were a lot of them around.

  ‘How interesting.’ I kept my face and voice bland.

  ‘A ghost with a psychology degree,’ Nina emphasized.

  ‘Everett is very interested in psychology,’ Kiki said. ‘And it’s not quite an autobiography, it will be more about his business philosophy, the structure of power, the climb to the top, the people along the way. He intends it to be inspirational to the younger generation coming along and …’

  Mmm-hmm. There was a lot of that around, too. I tuned out on what was obviously a well-rehearsed justification of her position here.

  It was interesting to know that Everett Oversall intended to join the ranks of business tycoons who were writing How-To-Be-As-Successful-As-I instruction manuals. I wondered how many secrets he was willing to give away. Apart from his brief early flirtation with the gossip columns, he had never been very forthcoming about himself or his interests. Perhaps Candy Shaeffer had talked him into it as a good public relations move.

  ‘When is it coming out?’ I asked, when Kiki appeared to have run down. At least, she had stopped talking.

  ‘When I finish it.’ Her lips tightened.

  Nina snickered.

  ‘Having problems?’ I tried to sound sympathetic. ‘How long have you been working on it?’

  ‘After the first six months, she moved in here with us,’ Nina said helpfully.

  ‘Everett thought it would be more convenient for me to be close at hand,’ Kiki said. ‘He told me I’d also find the others of great help to me with background material and additional research. That wasn’t quite … accurate.’ I got the impression that she was grinding her teeth. ‘There are still so many questions and, no matter how I phrase them, I can’t get straight answers.’

  ‘Mmm …’ It occurred to me suddenly that not all the hostility I had felt directed at this corner of the room had been aimed at me. I rephrased a question myself: ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Two years — but I’ve been helping in other ways, as well. It’s just that it’s so difficult to pin anyone down, including Everett, he’s always so busy. But I must have him speak to everyone again and tell them to cooperate with me.’

  There was a small, quickly suppressed gurgling sound from Nina.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see Dr Anderson.’ Time to change the subject. ‘I would have liked to beg a ride into town with him.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?’ Nina’s concern did not quite mask the quick look she exchanged with Kiki. ‘If you want anything, just speak to Monica. She’ll arrange it.’ With a faint smile, she turned and was gone. ‘You really do have amnesia —’ Kiki gave me a cool contemptuous look — ‘if you can’t remember that you’re living in the most luxurious Open Prison in the country.’

  Chapter Ten

  She was only a bird

  In a gilded cage …

  The old music hall melody was swirling through my mind when I awoke in the morning. Perhaps I could find a way to incorporate it into the act — in a Mae West-ish sort of parody …?

  With vassals and serfs

  By her side …

  I trilled experimentally.

  The cat gave me a filthy look: she was neither a vassal nor a serf. Furthermore — she moved to put some distance between us — she was not by my side, nor did she intend to be. Yesterday’s perfidy was neither forgotten nor forgiven.

  Yesterday … No, that was another song. Another problem. What had happened yesterday … and to whom … and why?

  Damn Anderson! Why hadn’t he told me anything? He must know there was a high probability that the two events were connected. How much was Oversall paying him for his ‘loyalty’? His silence?

  I threw myself together quickly, then spent so long waiting that, when Dilys brought my breakfast, it was clearly intended to be brunch. Except that it wasn’t Dilys — and there went that cosy gossip I’d been planning. I’d never seen this one before and she wasn’t the friendly type.

  ‘Good morning.’ She swept past me, set the tray down on the table and was gone again before I could say anything. So much for my plans to find out more about any below-stairs dramas. Oh, well, at least I could eat.

  I could eat. I lifted the cover to reveal a luscious mélange of fresh fruit — two kinds of melon, strawberries, kiwi fruit, peaches, blueberries, pineapple, grapes — and a selection of miniature croissants and vari-seeded rolls. It all looked delicious, so why was I feeling so uncomfortable?

  I looked away from it and met the furious disappointed eyes. There wasn’t a thing here a cat wanted to eat. I had just added insult to injury.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It isn’t my fault. I didn’t choose the menu. This is just what they brought me today.’

  A likely story! She was quivering with indignation. I had done it again.

  ‘You can have the coffee cream,’ I placated. ‘All of it. I’ll drink mine black.’

  Her ears twitched. Not good enough.

  ‘And I’ll see what I can scrounge for you at tea.’ Belatedly, I realized that I had no certainty at all that tea at Nina’s wouldn’t run heavily towards alfalfa sprouts, wheat germ, and strange oddments juiced out of all recognition. Although, I remembered thankfully, Monica would be supplying the tea, so perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad. ‘Anyway, I’ll do the best I can.’

  It was an empty promise and she knew it. She continued to glare at me until I went over to the store of cat treats and opened the most expensive tin of cat food on the shelf. I also shook an over-generous amount of her favourite crunchies into her bowl.

  Even then, she wasn’t letting me off the hook. She preferred people food — and I knew it. She was still staring moodily at her untouched goodies when I left for that tea with Nina.

  Nina was in a better mood, which wasn’t saying much. Ghengis Khan would have been in a better mood than that bloody cat. I could only be grateful she couldn’t talk. If she could, she’d have shopped me for sure.

  ‘There, now,’ Nina beamed at me, ‘isn’t this nice? It’s so good to have you here again. Just the way it used to be!’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘You still don’t remember?’ Her brow rippled with concern. ‘You can sit in that chair, just where you always used to sit, and nothing comes back to you?’

  ‘Sorry …’I gave a hint of a shrug. ‘They say it may never come back … and there’s nothing I can do about it. Just wait … and see.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘I was so hoping …’

  I let her dangle there while I looked around the room. It was slightly unnerving to find it so familiar. Had I unknowingly received some ESP transmission from Nessa — perhaps while in a dream state?

  The parade of blue-and-white china across the mantel, the mirror above it, even the tall jardinière sparsely filled with peacock feathers by the side of the fireplace … I had seen them all before. It was as though I had walked into a Victorian painting.

  And so I had, I realized abruptly. That was where I had seen it all before. So much for Nina’s creative ability. Her studio was a mix-and-not-quite-match take-off of every Victorian fad that had lasted long enough to be immortalized on canvas.

  ‘You like it, I can tell.’ She glanced around complacently, unaware that she had been caught out. ‘You always did.
That’s why you were going to have me do your quarters.’

  ‘Mmm …’

  ‘I could do it any time, now that you’re back.’ She was a little too eager. ‘And it might help to take your mind off … things.’

  ‘But I don’t want to get my mind off anything,’ I reminded her. ‘I want to get my mind back — and all the things I had on it.’

  ‘Oh!’ She hadn’t thought of that. Or had she? A faint glint of speculation flickered in the depths of her eyes. ‘But you can ask me any questions you want. About anything you want to know.’

  ‘The trouble with that is, I don’t know what I want to know. I don’t know what questions to ask.’

  ‘Oh!’ I watched her absorb this. ‘Yes, of course. I hadn’t thought of that. Of course you don’t!’ She sounded pleased about it.

  ‘It might help if —’ A light tap at the door interrupted me.

  ‘There’s tea!’ Nina sprang towards the door as though she hadn’t eaten for days. I remained seated, but turned to watch.

  My hope was dashed again. It wasn’t Dilys delivering the trolley, it was the sullen one who had brought my brunch. She didn’t linger here, either; nor did Nina seem to expect that she would.

  ‘That looks interesting,’ I remarked as Nina wheeled the trolley over to the table.

  ‘All sorts of fancy sandwiches,’ Nina said appreciatively. ‘I thought it might be. Antoine has to do his French cooking at dinner for Mr Oversall, but he likes to experiment with sandwiches and petits fours for tea.’

  ‘I haven’t seen Mr Oversall at dinner yet,’ I said, then realized someone else was missing. ‘And you’ve only set the table for two now. I thought Kiki was joining us.’

  ‘Oh, no, she cancelled. She often does.’ Nina shrugged. ‘She said she wasn’t feeling well. A headache, as usual. You can’t depend on her, you know.’

  ‘Really?’ I wouldn’t dream of doing so. I wondered if Kiki was having another search of my quarters while Nina kept me occupied here.