A Cure for Dying

by Jennie Melville

  Charmian realised that in a gentle way Miriam was looking forward to a bit of role reversal in the Gaynor family. The Gaynors would have to sort themselves out, she thought as she walked on to buy some of that French bread, and would doubtless do it. There was stamina and brains in the family, and courage, as well as other things she did not admire so much. No one had asked what the boy Mark made of it all, she thought suddenly, and decided to ask Ulrika, that great mopper-up of life’s problems, to see what she could do.

  Cheese, French bread, Italian wine, fresh fish for Muff who was on a fish-eating kick, but not frozen, thank you. She gathered her purchases in her arms and walked home.

  Kate’s bags were in the hall and Kate herself was striding up and down the kitchen.

  ‘Do you know what that man of yours has done?’ Not my man, Charmian was protesting, but Kate marched on. ‘Did I or did I not, have Johnny lined up to take a degree in economics? And now what has happened? Humphrey Kent is taking over the Bingham stables and has asked Johnny to run them for him. And Johnny said Yes.’

  Charmian started to laugh. Kate would have to learn to put up with the quirkiness of life, the endless capacity of people to do something you didn’t expect of them. The sheer muddle of it all. You accepted it, forgave them if you could, but anyway tried to help them, see them through their problems.

  This was what Ulrika Seeley had taught her.

  Even if their problem was murder.

  She looked at her calendar hanging on the wall above the stove where Muffs fish was so delicately flavouring it and on which several dates were ringed.

  On those days she would be seeing Lesley in her place of imprisonment. If she could help, she would.

  This was the way to do it, a self-evident truth, but one to be learnt. Ulrika knew it, Miriam Miller knew it, she suspected that Emmy Pilgrim, born Trust, knew, and now she knew it. One day Kate would know it.

  Talking, uncovering, conciliating, and with luck, mending, such was the process. Perhaps women could do it better than men.

  Author’s Note

  I have to thank Mrs Henry Forbes for the information she so generously provided about polo, polo ponies, and the size and style of their shoes, all of which I used. But with even greater generosity and trust she lent me a valuable and informative book, An Introduction to Polo by Marco, a pseudonym of the young Lord Mountbatten. I owe a lot to this book and to Mrs Forbes.

  In addition to this help from a friend, I received a great deal of help from another quarter. Anne Holdsworth of The Forensic Science Society responded to my appeals for advice by suggesting the names of several psychologists who were knowledgeable about the sort of crime I was writing about.

  On the telephone Eric Ward and Dr Gisli Hannes Gudjonsson were kind and helpful.

  But my greatest debt here is to Dr Torn Pitt-Aikens, and I want to thank him for all the help he gave me. He was informative, instructive and stimulating. He showed me things I might never have seen for myself. He opened doors in my mind.

  Of course, any errors I have fallen into on polo or psychology are entirely and absolutely my own, I must make that very clear.

  All people, places and institutions are completely fictional.

  J.M.

  Copyright

  First published 1989 by Macmillan

  This edition published 2015 by Bello

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

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  www.panmacmillan.co.uk/bello

  ISBN–978-1-4472-9615-7 EPUB

  ISBN–978-1-4472-9613-3 HB

  ISBN–978-1-4472-9614-0 PB

  Copyright © Jennie Melville, 1989

  The right of Jennie Melville to be identified as the

  author of this work has been asserted by her in

  accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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