The Far Side of the Sun Read Online Free Page B

painted nails in the air, as though flicking away a mosquito. ‘Forget about that, Dodie. I’ll telephone Olive and explain what happened and that you are in a state of shock.’ She shook her dark head in the manner of one well accustomed to making decisions for others. ‘Don’t be foolish. You were nearly killed. Those awful hoodlums!’ She gave a shudder. ‘I’m furious that the police are doing so little. They are such dunces.’

‘I’m sorry about your car. Is the damage bad?’

‘No, just a dent. Don’t worry about that, it wasn’t your fault. Here, have another drink.’ Tilly had already drained her own glass and advanced on Dodie’s.

‘No, thank you, Mrs Latcham. I am really grateful for all your help – without you I could be dead now.’

They looked at each other and Dodie felt an odd connection to this bright brittle woman who hid behind her flagrant disdain for the banality of her days. Was it always like this? If someone saves your life, how much do you owe them? How big a part of you do they own?

Dodie rose to her feet and it took her by surprise when the room briefly danced around her. It was a pleasant enough room but nowhere near as stylish as Ella’s, with heavy mahogany pieces that were somewhat the worse for wear.

‘If you would let me have my dress back…⁠’

‘Oh, Dodie, don’t rush off. Stay for another drink.’

‘No, thank you. You’ve been so kind but I really must go.’

‘Then stay and watch me drink mine.’ She had refilled her glass from the cocktail shaker and took a neat bite out of an olive. ‘I want to hear the gory details about your dead man.’

Dodie felt her stomach lurch. What had this woman’s husband been telling her? Surely lawyer confidentiality was as strict as doctor confidentiality?

Nevertheless she smiled at Tilly Latcham. ‘Another time. I have to go to Bradenham House to see Mrs Sanford.’

‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Tilly said cheerfully. She knocked back the rest of her drink, ran a hand over her precise silky waves and added, ‘I’ll drive you over.’

‘No, really, that’s not necessary.’

‘I insist.’ She patted Dodie’s cheek and gave her a bright red smile, but behind the careful powder and mascara Dodie caught a glimpse of a loneliness that tugged at something in her. ‘It will be a pleasure.’
     
    ‘How’s your young man?’

‘He’s in prison.’

‘So I hear.’

Tilly Latcham was driving the dented Plymouth too fast. Her wide sunhat obscured much of her face, but Dodie saw the grimace she pulled.

‘Hideous place.’ Tilly switched her gaze from the sun-drenched road ahead of them to Dodie’s face. She frowned, spoiling the neatness of her smooth skin. ‘I’m worried about Ella.’

‘Mrs Sanford?’

‘Yes. How well do you know her?’

‘Not well at all.’

‘She and I have been good friends for years.’

‘What’s wrong with Mrs Sanford?’

‘She’s scaring me.’

Dodie’s mouth went dry. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Because something bad is going on inside her, I’m sure of it.’
     
    The doorbell of Bradenham House rang and rang. No one answered.

‘Mrs Sanford must be out,’ Dodie frowned.

‘So where is Emerald?’

As Dodie stood on the wide pillared porch, squinting at the sunlight on the windows, the air seemed to vibrate with the faintest of noises. She took a step back from the house and quickly scanned its elegant colonial frontage but nothing seemed out of place.

‘What is it, Dodie?’

‘I don’t know. Something…⁠’

She stopped. Listened hard. The faint sound was high-pitched and made the skin of her arms prickle. She started to run to the back of the house, towards the garden. The sound was growing steadily louder and turning into a kind of keening, when an arm smacked into her chest.

‘Get out!’ a woman’s voice boomed at her. ‘Leave her alone.’

‘I heard…⁠’

‘Leave her! She don’t need you.’

Dodie saw before her the big maid who worked for