Scold's Bridle

him.'

'But why? There must be a reason for it.'

'I suspect it's very simple. The only person she loves or is capable of loving is herself and because her swollen belly made her less attractive in her own eyes, she resented the two people responsible for it, namely her husband and her baby. I'll put money on the fact that she's the one who found the pregnancy repulsive.'

'Nothing's ever that simple, Jack. It could be something quite serious. Untreated post-natal depression. Narcissistic personality disorder. Schizophrenia even. Perhaps Mathilda was right, and she is unstable.'

'Maybe, but if she is, then Mathilda was entirely to blame. From what I can gather, she kowtowed to Joanna and Joanna's histrionics from day one.' He gestured towards the painting. 'When I said that everything in her life is illusion, what I meant was: everything is false. This is the fantasy she wants you to believe, but I'm ninety-nine per cent certain she doesn't believe it herself.' He laid his forefinger on the central triangle of the prism, which as yet contained nothing. 'That's where the real Joanna will be, in the only mirror that can't reflect her stylized image of herself.'

Clever stuff, thought Sarah, but was it true? 'And what is the real Joanna?'

He stared at the painting. 'Utterly ruthless, I think,' he said slowly, 'utterly and completely ruthless about getting her own way.' The kitchen door was locked but the key that Mathilda had hidden under the third flowerpot to the right was still there and, with an exclamation of triumph, Sarah pounced on it and inserted it into the Yale lock. It was only after she'd opened the door and was removing the key to lay it on the kitchen table that she wondered if anyone had told the police that entry into Cedar House was that easy if you knew what was under the flowerpot. She certainly hadn't, but then she had forgotten all about it until the need to get in had jogged her memory. She had used it once, months ago, when Mathilda's arthritis was so bad that she hadn't been able to get out of her chair to open the front door.

Gingerly, she laid the key on the table and stared at it. Intuition told her that whoever had used the key last had killed Mathilda Gillespie, and she didn't need to be Einstein to work out that if their fingerprints had been on it she had just destroyed them with her own. 'Oh Jesus!' she said with feeling.

'How dare you come into my house without asking.' announced Joanna in a tight little voice from the hall doorway.

Sarah s glare was so ferocious that the other took a step backwards. 'Will you get off your ridiculous high horse and stop being so pompous,' she snapped. 'We're all in deep shit here and the only thing you ever do is stand on your wretched dignity.'

'Stop swearing. I detest people who swear. You're worse than Ruth and she has a mouth like a sewer. You're not a lady, I can't understand how my mother put up with you.'

Sarah drew a deep angry breath. 'You're unreal, Joanna. Which century do you think you're living in? And what is a lady? Someone like you who's never done a hand's turn in her life but passes muster because she doesn't utter profanities?' She shook her head. 'Not in my book it isn't. The greatest lady I know is a seventy-eight-year-old Cockney who works with the down-and-outs in London and swears like a trooper. Open your eyes, woman. It's the contribution you make to society that earns you respect, not a tight-arsed allegiance to some outmoded principle of feminine purity that died the day women discovered they weren't condemned to a life of endless pregnancy and child-rearing.'

Joanna's lips thinned. 'How did you get in?'

Sarah nodded towards the table. 'I used the key under the flowerpot.'

Joanna frowned angrily. 'Which key?'

'That one, and don't touch it, whatever you do. I'm sure whoever killed your mother must have used it. Can I borrow the phone? I'm going to call the police.' She crushed past Joanna into the hall. 'I'll have to ring Jack as well, tell him I'm going to be late. Do you mind? Presumably the cost will come out of your mother's estate.'

Joanna pursued her. 'Yes, I do mind. You've no business to force your way in. This is my house and I don't want you here.'

'No,' said Sarah curtly, picking up the phone on the hall table, 'according to your mother's will, Cedar House belongs to me.' She flicked through her diary for Cooper's telephone number. 'And you're only in it because I've balked at evicting you.' She held the receiver to her ear and dialled Learmouth Police Station, watching Joanna as she did so. 'But I'm rapidly changing my mind. Frankly, I see no reason why I should show you more consideration than you're prepared to show your own daughter. Detective Sergeant Cooper, please. Tell him it's Dr. Blakeney and it's urgent. I'm at Cedar House in Fontwell. Yes, I'll hold.' She put her hand over the mouthpiece. 'I want you to come home with me and talk to Ruth. Jack and I are doing our best but we're no substitute for you. She needs her mother.'

A small tic flickered at the side of Joanna's mouth. 'I resent your interference in matters that don't concern you. Ruth is quite capable of looking after herself.'

'My God, you really are unreal,' said Sarah in amazement. 'You couldn't give a shit, could you?'

'You are doing this deliberately, Dr. Blakeney.'

'If you're referring to my swearing, then, yes, you're dead right I am,' said Sarah. 'I want you to be as shocked by me as I am by you. Where's your sense of responsibility, you sodding bitch? Ruth didn't materialize out of thin air. You and your husband had a fucking good time when you made her, and don't forget it.' Abruptly she transferred her attention to the telephone. 'Hello, Sergeant, yes, I'm at Cedar House. Yes, she's here, too. No, there's no trouble, it's just that I think I know how Mathilda's murderer got in. Has anyone told you she kept a key to the kitchen door under a flowerpot by the coal bunker at the back? I know, but I forgot about it.' She pulled a face. 'No, it's not still there. It's on the kitchen table. I used it to get in.' She held the receiver away from her ear. 'I did not do it on purpose,' she said coldly after a moment. 'You should have searched a bit more thoroughly at the beginning then it wouldn't have happened.' She replaced the receiver with unnecessary force. 'We've both got to stay here until the police come.'

But Joanna's composure had abandoned her. 'GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!' she screamed 'I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THIS IN MY HOUSE!' She ran up the stairs. 'YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH IT! I'LL REPORT YOU TO THE MEDICAL COUNCIL! MUD STICKS. I'LL TELL THEM YOU MURDERED MR. STURGIS AND THEN MY MOTHER.'

Sarah followed in her wake, watched her run into the bathroom and slam the door, then lowered herself to the floor and sat cross-legged outside it. 'Tantrums and convulsions may have worked a treat with Mathilda but they