After the Funeral Read Online Free Page A

confirmed his impression.
    “If he was murdered,” said Rosamund, “who do you think did it?”
    Her gaze travelled thoughtfully round the carriage.
    “His death has been awfully convenient for all of us,” she said thoughtfully., “Michael and I are absolutely on our beam ends. Mick's had a really good part offered to him in the Sandborne show if he can afford to wait for it. Now we'll be in clover. We'll be able to back our own show if we want to. As a matter of fact there's a play with a simply wonderful part.”
    Nobody listened to Rosamund's ecstatic disquisition. Their attention had shifted to their own immediate future.
    “Touch and go,” thought George to himself. “Now I can put that money back and nobody will ever know... But it's been a near shave.”
    Gregory closed his eyes as he lay back against the seat. Escape from bondage.
    Susan said in her clear rather hard voice, “I'm very sorry, of course, for poor old Uncle Richard. But then he was very old, and Mortimer had died, and he'd nothing to live for and it would have been awful for him to go on as an invalid year after year. Much better for him to pop off suddenly like this with no fuss.”
    Her hard confident young eyes softened as they watched her husband's absorbed face. She adored Greg. She sensed vaguely that Greg cared for her less than she cared for him - but that only strengthened her passion. Greg was hers, she'd do anything for him. Anything at all...

After the Funeral
    III
    Maude Abernethie, changing her dress for dinner at Enderby, (for she was staying the night) wondered if she ought to have offered to stay longer to help Helen out with the sorting and clearing of the house. There would be all Richard's personal things... There might be letters... All important papers, she supposed, had already been taken possession of by Mr Entwhistle. And it really was necessary for her to get back to Timothy as soon as possible. He fretted so when she was not there to look after him. She hoped he would be pleased about the will and not annoyed. He had expected, she knew, that most of Richard's fortune would come to him. After all, he was the only surviving Abernethie. Richard could surely have trusted him to look after the younger generation. Yes, she was afraid Timothy would be annoyed... And that was so bad for his digestion. And really, when he was annoyed, Timothy could become quite unreasonable. There were times when he seemed to lose his sense of proportion... She wondered if she ought to speak to Dr Barton about it... Those sleeping pills - Timothy had been taking far too many of them lately - he got so angry when she wanted to keep the bottle for him. But they could be dangerous - Dr Barton had said so - you could get drowsy and forget you'd taken them - and then take more. And then anything might happen! There certainly weren't as many left in the bottle as there ought to be... Timothy was really very naughty about medicines. He wouldn't listen to her... He was very difficult sometimes.
    She sighed - then brightened. Things were going to be much easier now. The garden, for instance -

After the Funeral
    IV
    Helen Abernethie sat by the fire in the green drawing-room waiting for Maude to come down to dinner.
    She looked round her, remembering old days here with Leo and the others. It had been a happy house. But a house like this needed people. It needed children and servants and big meals and plenty of roaring fires in winter. It had been a sad house when it had been lived in by one old man who had lost his son...
    Who would buy it, she wondered? Would it be turned into an hotel, or an institute, or perhaps one of those hostels for young people? That was what happened to these vast houses nowadays. No one would buy them to live in. It would be pulled down, perhaps, and the whole estate built over. It made her sad to think of that, but she pushed the sadness aside resolutely. It did one no good to dwell on the past. This house, and happy days