to meet in a pub out on the Bicester road where I thought there was little chance of running into anybody I knew.’
‘And you recognised her again?’
‘Oh, yes, there was no doubt it was Coralie. I was in my second year at university when I married her, but she hadn’t changed a bit. She made herself very charming in her uneducated, low-class way and said she was down on her luck and asked me what I was prepared to do about it.’
‘How long did you live with her?’
‘I’ve never lived with her. I had rooms in College when I married her, and I could hardly take her there.’
‘So the marriage was never consummated.’
‘Oh, yes, it was. We used to meet secretly at her mother’s place when she wasn’t on tour.’
‘But you said you’d never lived with her.’
‘Oh, I see what you mean. I thought you referred to our setting up an establishment. We never did.’
‘Was there a child?’
‘I don’t know. After I’d done a bit of private coaching I got this job at a northern university and after a time – I forget how long – Coralie and I ceased to correspond. It began with me. I stopped answering her letters. All she did was ask for money. I sent her what I could, but she kept on pestering to join me. By that time I knew what a fool I’d been to marry her. We had nothing whatever in common and the tone of her letters became vulgar and abusive in the extreme.’
‘She never attempted to seek you out and challenge you face to face to acknowledge her as your wife?’
‘It was soon obvious that such was not her aim. All she wanted was money and for a time I was glad enough to send it so long as she kept away from me. Then I changed my digs without leaving a forwarding address. I was living out of my College – all the staff and students up there do – and in my next letter I did not give her my new address. I kept my eyes open after that, thinking that she would put in an appearance and renew her demands, but she didn’t, and very soon I thought I had found out why. A friend, an undergraduate who was in my confidence, wrote to me and told me to go back at the first opportunity and study the grave-stones in the town cemetery.
‘I realised what he was telling me, so on my next vacation I went back. I searched among the graves until I found the one I was looking for, the grave of Coralie St Malo.’
‘She wasn’t using your name, then?’
‘She’d stuck to her stage name. She’d been a chorus girl, as I said, and I expect she thought St Malo sounded better than Lawrence. At any rate, there the grave was, and mighty relieved I was to see it. Meanwhile I’d fallen in love with Margaret and, as I thought, I was free to marry her. My uncle was pleased with the match. Margaret is a junior don at Abbesses College, in this his own University, so he knew her. Naturally he knew nothing of Coralie. At least I’d had the sense to keep her dark.’
‘So you assumed that the happy ending was in sight when you married for the second time.’
‘Wouldn’t anyone? And then, clean out of the blue, I ran into Coralie in the town market here at the beginning of the Long Vacation. I had the shock of my life, I can assure you. I must simply have stood and gazed at her. She said, “Well, dearie, have you come back to keep me in the style to which I am not accustomed? I know all about your second marriage, you rat.” I managed to gargle out something to the effect that I thought she was dead and that I’d seen her grave. She laughed in a very nasty way. “That was my poor mum’s grave,” she said. “Her stage name was the same as mine. Ever been had, you two-timing Casanova? Well, you’ve done for yourself now, haven’t you? I suppose you’re prepared to pay me to keep my trap shut? Wouldn’t do you
‘And you met her again at the pub on the Bicester road?’
‘Yes, I hoped I could persuade her to call off her vendetta. However, as I said, she made herself very pleasant at first, but she stuck to this outrageous demand for what she was pleased to call alimony, although there had never been any question of divorce. She mentioned her marriage lines and said that they were in a safe place, but that she could and would produce them at any moment if I refused to pay up. I was scared out of my wits because I knew she meant what she said, so, in despair, I gave in. You see, she could prove that when I married Margaret it really was bigamy. Well, all that was bad enough and now, on top of it, comes this charge of embezzlement. It’s untrue, but I simply don’t know how to refute it.’
‘All right, Lawrence. For the sake of your uncle and his position in this my old College, I am prepared to guarantee you a long-term loan of forty thousand pounds, which will clear your name for the time being. I shall then go into the matter with your auditors. Who are they, by the way?’
‘Lestrange, Collins and Dobbs.’
‘My cousin Harry? Well, that’s a bit of luck for you, anyway. Once the money is repaid, I can fix Harry and ask for his discretion, so that nothing need be made public. That isn’t for your sake, but for Sir Anthony’s and the Warden’s. A stink of this nature wouldn’t do either of them any good. I shall need you to sign an undertaking to repay the money, of course, and with reasonable interest.’
‘There’s been some mistake, some ghastly mistake, Lestrange. I’m going to get another firm of auditors on the job.’
‘You would be very unwise to do that. I have influence with Harry, but none with any other firm if you have a second audit carried out.’
‘Oh, well, if you can get your cousin to stall for a bit, I suppose that will help. I’m going on holiday the week after next with old Sir Anthony, so I shan’t be on hand for a bit.’
‘Yes, it might be as well to get him out of the way while we settle things up and put you in the clear.’
‘And I suppose you expect me to thank you into the bargain!’
‘Oh, hardly! I feel I know you better than that,’ said Sir Ferdinand, going towards the door.
