The Cater Street Hangman - Anne Perry [116]
“Oh dear, that really is too much!” Caroline said in exasperation. “She was going to deal with so many of the details, especially at the church. And I don’t even know what she has done so far!” She sat down hard in the wooden chair behind her. “I suppose I shall have to write a list of questions and send one of the servants ’round to her. It seems heartless, if the poor creature is ill, but what else can I do? And it’s raining!”
“We can’t send a servant, Mama,” Charlotte said wearily. “The least we can do is go ourselves. She visits all the sick in the parish, takes them things, even sits up with them all night if they are alone. It would be unpardonable if now, when she is ill, all we can do is send a servant with a message to know how far she has got in making arrangements on our behalf. One of us must go, and take her something.”
“She will have plenty of things,” Emily pointed out. “We cannot be the only people to know. It will be all ’round the parish. You know what gossips they are.”
“And quite possibly they will all think as you do, that someone else will call,” Charlotte argued. “Anyway, that isn’t the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that we should take her something, even if her house is bulging at the walls with things, to show that we care.”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t think you did care! In fact I thought you were indifferent to Martha, and positively disliked the vicar.”
“I do. That is especially when one should take something! She cannot help being unlikeable. So would you be, I daresay, if you had lived all your life married to the vicar!”
“I should be worse than unlikeable,” Emily said tartly. “I should be quite mad by now. I think he is an appalling man!”
“Emily, please!” Caroline was almost to the point of tears. “I cannot spare both of you. Emily, will you make sure we have informed everyone we should have, go over my list again, and check those we can be sure will attend, then go over the catering arrangements with Mrs. Dunphy. Charlotte, you had better go to the kitchen and find something to take to Martha, if you insist. And for goodness’ sake, find out as tactfully as you can how far she has got with the arrangements at the church. And you had better not forget to find out precisely what is the matter, if it is tactful. It may not be. I must know, or I shall appear to be callous.”
“Yes, Mama. What shall I take her?”
“Since we don’t know what is the nature of her illness, it is a little difficult to say. See if Mrs. Dunphy has some egg custard. She is very good at it, and I know Martha’s cook has a heavy hand.”
Mrs. Dunphy had no egg custard ready, and it was the middle of the afternoon before she had prepared one and sent a message upstairs to Charlotte to tell her it was ready.
Charlotte put on her cloak and hat, then went down to the kitchen to collect it.
“There you are, Miss Charlotte.” Mrs. Dunphy gave her a basket, neatly packed with a folded napkin on the top.
“Egg custard in a dish there, and I put in a small jar of preserves and a little beef tea as well. The poor soul. I hope she feels better soon. Too much for her, all this tragedy, I expect. She knew all of those poor girls. And she does so much, for the poor and the like. Never stops. Time someone showed her a little kindness, I say.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dunphy, thank you.” Charlotte took the basket. “I’m sure she’ll be very grateful.”
“Take her my best wishes, will you, Miss Charlotte?”
“Of course.” She turned round to leave, and felt a sudden icy fear as she saw on the side table a long, thin wire with a handle on one end. The coldness rippled through her as if someone were holding the thing, as if only lately it had been pulled tight into the flesh of someone’s throat.
“Mrs. Dunphy,” she stammered. “Wh—what in heaven’s name—”
Mrs. Dunphy followed her eyes. “Oh, Miss Charlotte,” she said with a laugh. “Why, that’s only an ordinary cheese cutter. Bless my soul! If you were a little fonder