Play Dead Read Free Page A

park.’
    â€˜No problem,’ said Nell, beginning to turn away.
    â€˜Hang on,’ said Poppy. ‘I’d have a bed for you for a few days, if you need it. There’s only me and my cat.’
    â€˜You mean that?’
    Poppy didn’t hesitate. In a sense she had made the offer only as a way of prolonging the contact, building an extra strand into the tenuous relation between them. Challenged, she found she had told the truth.
    â€˜Yes, of course. Gladly.’
    â€˜Thanks.’
    A squabble had broken out by the paint-table, involving Sue’s charge, Peter, so she darted away to help peace-make before Poppy could introduce her to Peony. Nell picked Nelson up and carried him back to where she’d been sitting before. Deborah and Toby were still rapt in their game—a duet now, and sometimes they were stopping each other’s mouth to vary the notes, which were further modulated by their giggles. Poppy heard Peony sigh with simple pleasure as she watched them and realised that she had done the same. It was a parody picture of young love, of the exploration of delights and possibilities available to two human bodies. When you sigh like that, she thought, you sigh for yourself as well.
    2
    â€˜â€¦ I spy Mother Hubbard,’ read Poppy. ‘Can you see her, darling? Where is she? Yes, there she is!’
    She let Toby turn the page.
    â€˜Mother Hubbard in the …’
    â€˜Mummy,’ he said and wriggled from her lap. She put the book down and thought, Perhaps I am getting a bit deaf. Please not. Don’t let anyone say it runs in the family or it’s only to be expected at my age.
    Toby was already through the door. Now Poppy could hear the noises of Janet bringing her cycle into the hall and stripping off her oilskins, mixed with Toby’s cries of welcome. She crossed the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Janet came in with Toby bouncing on her arm. Her face glowed with the lash of rain and her red-blonde hair exploded round it, with odd lank locks that had escaped her crash-hat straggling down. Exhilarated health streamed from her.
    Poppy’s main feeling for her daughter-in-law, apart from a mild unfocused resentment, was awe, awe for her beauty, intelligence, dynamism mental and physical—she stood six feet and at the cottage would split logs with a seven-pound axe. How Hugo could have dared involve himself with such a Valkyrie, how Janet could have been drawn to vague, cold Hugo, were mysteries—as all marriages are, in the end.
    â€˜You must have had a wild ride, darling.’
    â€˜One of those days when the wind is against you in all directions.’
    â€˜I don’t know how you dare.’
    â€˜It’s fun. Like white-water canoeing. The traffic’s the current you learn to ride.’
    â€˜But Hyde Park Corner, for instance.’
    â€˜Just a big eddy. How’s he been?’
    â€˜An angel, as always. It’s all in his book. He’s fallen in love.’
    â€˜Again? Who with?’
    â€˜A terrifying little hussy with a scream like a steam-siren, called Deborah. Pushing two-and-a-half, I should think.’
    â€˜The older woman.’
    â€˜It’s coming down. Sukie was four. And at least Deborah was just as smitten with him, so he’s had a lovely time.’
    â€˜They’ll have forgotten about it by tomorrow.’
    â€˜You can’t tell with Toby, can you, darling?’
    He had been nestling into Janet’s shoulder, relaxing his body into the luxury of mother love, but looked up at the sound of his name.
    â€˜Who did you meet today, darling?’ said Poppy. ‘Deborah?’
    â€˜Debba,’ he said, putting his hand in front of his mouth for a snatch of the yodelling effect.
    â€˜Where’s Debba, then?’ said Janet.
    â€˜Watch it,’ said Poppy. ‘We’ve got to call her by her full name. Mrs Capstone’s orders.’
    Janet was at the working surface