A Suitable Vengeance

“Oh no! If he knew…” She raised a hand to her mouth.

“Money’s not a problem, Nancy,” Lynley said. He was relieved, in fact, that it was only money she wanted from him and not an understanding little chat with her landlord. “I’ll lend you what you want. Take whatever time you need to pay me back. But I don’t understand why your father mustn’t know. Mick’s expenditures seem reasonable if he’s trying to modernise the paper. Any bank would—”

“She’ll not tell you everything,” John Penellin said grimly from the doorway. “Shame alone will stop her from telling it all. Shame, pure and simple. The best she’s got from Mick Cambrey.”

With a cry, Nancy jumped to her feet, body arched for flight. Lynley rose to intervene.

“Dad.” She reached out towards him. Voice and gesture both offered placation.

“Tell him the rest,” her father said. He advanced into the room, but he shut the door behind him to prevent Nancy’s escape. “Since you’ve aired half your dirty linen for his lordship, tell him the rest. You’ve asked for money, haven’t you? Then tell him the rest so he understands what kind of man’s on the receiving end of his investment.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” Penellin looked at Lynley. “Mick Cambrey spends money on that newspaper, all right. There’s truth in that. But the rest he spends on his lady friends. And it’s Nancy’s own money, isn’t it, girl? Earned at her jobs. How many jobs, Nance? All the bookkeeping jobs in Penzance and Nanrunnel. And then every night at the Anchor and Rose. With little Molly in a basket on the floor of the pub kitchen because her father can’t be bothered away from his writing to see to her while Nancy works to support them all. Only it’s not his writing he’s taken up with, is it? It’s his women. How many are there now, Nance?”

“It isn’t true,” Nancy said. “That’s all in the past. It’s the newspaper costs, Dad. Nothing else.”

“Don’t make your shame worse by colouring it with a lie. Mick Cambrey’s no good. Never was. Never will be. Oh, perhaps good enough to get the clothes off an inexperienced girl and plant his baby inside her. But not good enough to do a thing about it without being forced. And look at yourself, Nance, a shining example of the man’s affection for you. Look at your clothes. Look at your face.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“See what he’s helped you become.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. He’d never let me ask—”

“But he’ll take the money, won’t he? And never question how you came by it. Just as long as it meets his needs. And what are his needs this time, Nancy? Has he another lady? Perhaps two or three?”

“No!” Nancy looked desperately at Lynley. “I just…I…” She shook her head, her face dissolving into misery.

Penellin moved heavily to the wall map of the estate. His skin was grey. “Look at what he’s done to you,” he said dully. And then to Lynley, “See what Mick Cambrey’s done to my girl.”





CHAPTER 6


Simon and Helen shall come with us as well,” Sidney announced. Only moments before, she had pulled a coral-coloured dress from the jumble of clothing scattered across her room. The colour should have been all wrong on her, but in this case fashion triumphed over hue. She was swirls of crepe from shoulder to midcalf, like a cloud at sunset.

She and Deborah were heading through the garden towards the park where St. James and Lady Helen walked together beneath the trees. Sidney shouted at them.

“Come and watch Deb snap away at me. At the cove. Half in and half out of a ruined dinghy. A seductive mermaid. Will you come?”

Neither responded until Deborah and Sidney reached them. Then St. James said, “Considering the volume of your invitation, no doubt you can expect quite a crowd, with everyone ready to see just the sort of mermaid you have in mind.”

Sidney laughed. “That’s right. Mermaids don’t wear clothes, do they? Oh well. Pooh. You’re just jealous that I’m to be Deb’s subject for once and not you. However,” she admitted, twirling in the breeze, “I did have to make her swear she’d take no snaps of you. Not that she needs any more, if you ask me. She must have a thousand in her collection already. A veritable history of Simon-on-the-stairs, Simon-in-the-garden, Simon-in-the-lab.”

“I don’t recall being given much choice about posing.”

Sidney tossed her head and set off across the park with the others in her wake. “Poor excuse, that. You’ve had your chance for immortality, Simon. So don’t you dare step in front of the camera today and take away mine.”

“I think I can restrain myself,” St. James replied drily.