Mrs. Malory and A Time To Die Read Online Free Page B

but I was in that shop in Porlock where they have all the riding stuff and I couldn’t resist!”
    “Well,” I said, “we won’t have to worry now about what to give her for birthdays and Christmas.”
    “As long as it’s not her own pony. Though I’ve no doubt Jo will have thoughts about that too!”
    “How was Jo; is she all right? I thought she looked really tired at the show. I know she’d just been showing her horse and all that, but, just for a moment she really looked her age.”
    “No, she seemed all right when I saw her. She was a bit—well, I don’t know quite what—not put out exactly, but disconcerted, I suppose. She’d heard from Vicky, who’s making a radio program and wants to tape an interview with her.”
    “And?”
    “I gather it’s to be about the theater—past actors and so forth. Well, you know how Jo never likes talking about all that.”
    “No, I sometimes think she regrets her time as an actress and doesn’t want to be reminded about it. I remember Anthea once asked her to give a talk about her life in the theater at Brunswick Lodge and Jo was really quite rude to her. Anthea was absolutely amazed, because you know how amiable Jo always is. But she shut Anthea up, and that takes a lot of doing!”
    “Oh well, perhaps she’ll put Vicky off.”
    “I don’t know about that. From what I remember, Vicky can be just as persistent as Anthea, and she does have the advantage of being Jo’s niece. It will be interesting to see if she can pull it off.”

Chapter Three
    “Do you feel like coming with me to collect some chickens?” Thea asked me when she rang.
    “Chickens?”
    “Yes, I’ve always wanted to keep them, ever since I was a child, so, when I saw an advert for a chicken house in the Free Press , I thought why not!”
    “Well, good for you. What does Michael think about it?”
    “Since he knows he won’t have to do anything about the actual hens, he’s all for it. Anyway, he’s installed the chicken house and put up a wire-netting pen, so I’m all set. I’m starting off with twelve to see how it goes.”
    “Splendid. Yes, I’d love to come. When?”
    “Alice is spending the day with her friend Jessica tomorrow. Jessica’s mother, bless her, is taking them both swimming and then back to lunch, so I thought that would be a good time to go. Could you come about ten thirty? I’m afraid we’ll have to go in the Land Rover, so I pray this place isn’t up a dreadfully narrow lane, because I’m hopeless at backing up in it!”
    There was a narrow lane, leading up to the rather scruffy-looking farmhouse high up, out over the moor, but fortunately no one else seemed to be using it that particular morning. A young woman, followed by a little girl, came out as we drove into the yard.
    “You for the chicken, then?” she asked. “Dave left them all ready.”
    We followed her to a corner of the yard where there were two crates, each containing six rust-colored fowl, who clucked hysterically when the woman picked them up and swung them into the back of the Land Rover.
    “Are they all right?” Thea asked anxiously.
    “They’ll soon settle down; don’t you fret. If you can bring the crates back . . .”
    The child, who had watched the whole proceedings with her finger in her mouth, took it out and pointed in the direction of the agitated birds.
    “Chicken!” she said. “Chicken cross!”
    Then, apparently overcome by her own temerity, she retreated behind her mother.
    “We’ll bring the crates back at the weekend if that’s all right,” Thea said. She handed over some money to the young woman, and we got back into the Land Rover and drove away.
    After a little while I said, “I can’t hear any noise from the chickens. Do you think they’re all right?”
    “I think so. Apparently they can’t stand up while I’m driving, so they sit down and presumably await their fate with a sort of Asian stoicism. They’ll be fine when we get them home.”
    And, indeed,