Patricia Wentworth - Ladies’ Bane

Miss Silver #22, 1952

Looking back, Ione Muir was to wonder what would have happened if she had chosen any other day to go up to town. With all the days of the week to choose from, she had picked a Tuesday, and that particular Tuesday. Suppose she had chosen some other day. Suppose she had gone a week earlier or a week later. Suppose she had not gone at all. Just how much difference would it have made? Would she have met Jim Severn in some other way? Would it all have been the same in the end? Or would it have been different-perhaps dreadfully different? Did certain people, certain events, certain crimes, produce as it were a vortex into which you must inevitably have been drawn? Or did it all just turn on the choice of a day or a train? She was never to be quite sure.

She took the 9.45 to town. Any other train, and she would not have run into Fenella Caldecott as she emerged from the Knightsbridge Tube.

Ione! I havent seen you since-when was it-Celias wedding? What a lovely bride she made! Fortunately one didnt have to look at the bridegroom-one never does at a wedding-but Celia was going to have to live with him, and honestly, I dont know how she could! One oughtnt to say things like that, but its only to you, and Im sure I hope they are very happy indeed. Curious how some girls just seem to disappear after they are married. Cornwall, wasnt it? Too remote! And that reminds me-what about Allegra? Shes another of the vanished ones. Why on earth do girls marry the sort of people who carry them off to the ends of the earth? She bent a long, slim neck to glance at her wristwatch and gave a faint scream. Darling, Im going to be late for my fitting! And Andr just crosses you off if youre even half a minute behind your time, though he doesnt mind how many hours he keeps you waiting himself! She waved a hand, called over her shoulder, Meet me for lunch at the club, and was gone.

Ione watched her go. Fenella hadnt changed in the least, and she probably never would. Even at school she had possessed a long, slim elegance which triumphed over such garments as a gym tunic and the quite hideous St. Griselda uniform. Now, clothed by the great Andr, she was a most decorative creature. Not really her friend, but Allegras. She had not said she would meet Fenella for lunch, but she supposed that she would. What really decided her was that there hadnt been time to ask whether she had heard from Allegra. They had been such very close friends.

She went about her shopping with rather an abstracted mind. Allegra had always been a bad correspondent. Anyone may be a bad correspondent without there being anything wrong. It is when people are busy and happy that they dont bother to write. If there is anything wrong you hear. Or do you? Perhaps Fenella had heard-

Taking one oclock as the starting-point, she had to wait three-quarters of an hour for Fenella at the club, and then she had to hear all about the fitting, and why Fenella had left Mirabelle whom she had always previously declared to be the only really imaginative dressmaker on this side of the Channel.

But, darling, a complete devil! You wont believe it, but she sent me to the Crayshaw wedding in an absolute duplicate of Pippa Casabiancas going-away dress! In Paris, you know, and a whole month before! I might never have known, only Yvonne de Crassac sent me the photographs! Well, that really was the end! And Im terribly lucky to get in with Andr, because he has a waiting-list about a mile long!

There was a good deal more of this before Ione had a chance to mention Allegra.

Have I heard from her lately? Darling, we dont correspond! The old school tie rather fades out after a year or two, dont you think? But I did like your charming brother-in-law-quite sinfully goodlooking, as Elizabeth Tremayne said! said no one ever looked at the bridegroom, but when Allegra was married we all did! Funny how those very handsome men dont seem to care so much about looks in a girl, and you know, I did think that dead white was a mistake for Allegra. So cold, if you know what I mean!

There was no unkindness in Fenella. Dress was her one real interest in life, and she took it seriously. When her mind turned to Allegra Muirs wedding she could not only pass over the two-year gap and visualize every detail, but she could no more help re-dressing and re-grouping the bride and her attendants than she could stop the even flow of her breath. And the worst of it was that she was right. Nothing could have been less becoming to Allegra than all that icy white which had made her look pinched and grey, like something lost in a snowstorm. Ione was ruefully aware that she hadnt looked any too good in it herself. And that awful lumpy girl Margot-could anything have been worse! She laughed and said,

Its the last time Im going to be a bridesmaid anyhow. You have to when its your sister, but never again! The idea of herding a lot of girls together and putting them into something which is bound to be the last thing on earth that most of them ought to wear-well, its simply barbaric!

Fenella did not laugh-she hardly ever did. She said earnestly,

Youre too right, darling. Let me see-there was you-and Elizabeth Tremayne-and the Miller twins with all that red hair-and that frightful lumpy schoolgirl-what was her name?

Margot Trent. Shes a relation of Geoffreys, and he is her guardian. We had to have her. She looked terrible.

Fenella shook her head sadly.

Schoolgirls always do in white. Theyre either much too fat like this Margot girl, or else theyve got sharp red elbows and bones sticking out all over them. She still lives with them, doesnt she? I dont know how Allegra could! Has she fined down at all?

I dont know.

But youve seen her, havent you?

Well, not very lately.

But youve seen Allegra. Im simply counting on your giving me all her news. You must have seen Allegra! Ione felt that her colour was rising. She said,

Well, I was in America.

America! What on earth were you doing there?

We have relations in New Jersey. I went to visit them, and stayed on longer than I meant to. As a matter of fact, I tumbled into a job.

Fenella had a remembering look.

Yes-now dont tell me! I did hear about it-it was Sylvia Scott! She sent me an American magazine with a picture of you doing one of those monologues you used to be dragged in for at school concerts. It said you were having quite a success.

Ione laughed.

They seemed to like them. A friend of my cousins got me to do one or two at a big party, and then other people asked me, and in the end I had a very good professional offer, so I thought I had better take it and bring some dollars home.

Well, I dont know how you do it! Fenellas attention wavered. She came back to Allegra. What is her house like? Are they able to get any staff?

I expect so-I dont know.

You havent been there? Ione!

I had to go and look after my old cousin who was ill.

Do you mean to say you havent seen Allegra since the wedding?

No, of course not. I saw her when she came back from her honeymoon.

Youve never been to stay with her?

I couldnt leave Cousin Eleanor.

Fenella shook her head.

Its quite fatal to go and look after an old lady. They never die, and you never get away.

Ione laughed.

Im going to stay with Allegra next week, she said.

In her mind something said insistently, If they dont put you off again.

The dining-room at Fenellas club was one of those rooms where you dont notice very much what the weather is like outside. At lunchtime in the middle of January the light would be on anyhow, so it was not until they had lingered over their coffee and Fenella remembered that she had an appointment to try an absolutely new hair-do that either of them noticed the fog.