Callander Square - Anne Perry [83]
He greeted the children civilly enough, and of course Adelina, and was relaxing after dinner when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said with some surprise.
Chastity came in, looking very prim and clean.
“What is it, child?” he was a little annoyed. He did not wish to talk.
“Uncle Reggie, Miss Waggoner says I must ask you if I wish to learn mathematics. Please, may I?”
“No. Whatever would you require mathematics for?”
“I would like to learn for the sake of learning,” she replied sedately. “You have said to me that it is good to do so.”
“They would be of no use to you,” he said decisively.
“Neither is painting, but you say I should learn it.”
“Painting is an art, that is quite different. Women should become proficient in some art or other: give them something to do when they grow up. Otherwise how will you employ your time?” That was faultless logic. She would have no answer for that. He faced her with satisfaction.
“I shall marry a policeman,” she said immediately. “And I shall be poor, so I shall have to keep my own house. It might be very useful to be able to do mathematics. I could deduce things.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he snapped. Really, the child was becoming impossible. “Why ever should you marry a policeman?”
“Because I like them. I like Mr. Pitt. I should like to marry him, only he is already married. He was here again today. He was talking to Mary Ann. I don’t think he’ll ever find out who killed those babies, you know. He says so himself. It will just remain a mystery for ever and ever and ever. We shall all wonder who it was, and we shall think dreadful things about each other, and no one will ever know. When I grow to be very old, about fifty, I shall tell my grandchildren about it, and I shall say the square is haunted by crying babies who were murdered in olden times; that’s now; but it will be olden times by then, and nobody ever knew who did it. And we shall play games as to whom it might have been, and—”
“Stop it!” Reggie said furiously. He could not remember when he had last lost his temper, but this was monstrous. The child was talking nonsense, absurd, ridiculous, and frightening nonsense. She was raising visions of a never-ending bondage, a bloodsucking till he was empty, a fear to stalk him the rest of his life! “Stop it!” he shouted. “That’s not true! They’ll find out who it was. The police are very clever. They are bound to discover, and probably quite soon.” He could still feel his heart bumping, but it was not quite so uncontrolled now.
Chastity looked at him in surprise, but without losing her beastly composure.
“Do you think so, Uncle Reggie? I don’t. I think it will be a terrible mystery for ever and ever, and everyone will go around whispering about it. Can I learn mathematics, please?”
“No!”
“But I want to.”
“Well, you can’t!”
“Why not?” she asked reasonably.
“Because I say so. Now go up to bed. It must be your bedtime.”
“It isn’t, not for another hour yet.”
“Do as you are told, child. Go to bed.” He knew he was being completely arbitrary, but then one was not required to explain to children, or even to have an explanation. One could do as one pleased. It was good for children to learn to obey.
Chastity retired as she was told, but there was a look of disappointment in her eyes that was distinctly touched with contempt. The impertinence of it stung him.
He sat staring at the opposite chair, his thoughts going round with gathering momentum, and increasing unpleasantness. What if Chastity were right, and they never did find out who it was? They would go on talking about it—after all, why should they ever stop? Gossip was the lifeblood of women’s social round. What was not real or known