“Well there is something I’d like to talk to you about before we go down. It’s stupid but I got a bit involved with a friend of Katie’s when we were down in Devon.”
“My god,” said Peter as he took his feet smartly off the table. “That’s not like you, Ralph. Does Katie know? I can see why you’re in a bit of a stew. I’ve been there old pal.”
“Not that sort of thing, you ass. Her friend was being blackmailed, and I don’t want to go into details, but to get the documents back I might have been a bit – well devious.”
Peter let out a gasp. “You had me worried there for a minute, Ralph. Look, I’m parched. Why don’t you tell me about it over a beer. Trying to get those students to see the virtue in composing instead of wanting to be a pop musician has buggered my larynx. Good job I play the piano instead of singing for a living.” With that he got up and opened the door. “Come on, Ralph, I want to tell you about the concert that we’re putting on down at St Mary’s Church in Kingston. I’ve got so friendly with the vicar there I’m almost ready for conversion.”
“I can’t think what you’d be converting from,” Ralph smiled. He felt better already.
As Peter told him about the upcoming concert and how St Mary’s was being transformed into a focal point for the community, he began to forget all about Sherracombe Ford and Devon.
***
The concert was a success. Peter had surpassed all expectations when he played two solo pieces on the restored church organ. As the music filled the church, Ralph could
see by the look on the faces of the invited guests and the audience that Peter’s reputation as a world expert in early church organ music was secure. He glanced across at Marcia and remembered how she and Peter had gone through some pretty bad patches in their long marriage. Perhaps it was time for him and Katie to think seriously about getting married, he mused. Being in church had that effect, he had heard.
During the interval, he spoke to Inspector Linham and his wife. Linham joked about Kingston being a lot quieter when Professor Chalmers was busy teaching rather than engaged in one of his escapades, as he discreetly phrased it. It reminded him about Devon, and what was likely happening with James Bradley and Marian.
***
Cynthia and Lance had arranged their housewarming party for the same evening as the concert. Katie took the underground as far as Wimbledon and Ralph picked her up at the station. The Common always took him by surprise. It was only a few miles from central London, but with over 1000 acres, it was said to be the biggest heathland in England. It sported a lake, cricket and football pitches and a well-known golf course.
Ralph had run cross country matches there over the years and knew it almost as well as he did the neighboring Richmond Park. It was a warm evening and couples strolled along the wide tree-lined avenues where the lights from the tall Victorian Villas and the sounds of music coming from the open windows gave it a festive air. By the time they got to Raleigh Villas, which bordered the Common, it was getting dark.
“It must have cost every penny of 3 million, Ralph,” Katie whispered as they rang the bell at the top of the wide flight of stone steps. As they waited, he joked that Cynthia had probably sold off some of the art treasures at Dorich House to cover the cost.
Lance welcomed them in.
“C’mon in, you two; glad you could make it. I know it’s not your scene, Ralph, but Cindy’s pleased as punch with the place; she’s dying to show you around. Just throw your coats in there and come and meet the rest,” he pointed to a cloakroom just off the foyer that was bigger than Ralph’s bedroom.
Lance led the way into what must at one time have been a formal dining room. The ceilings were at least 16 feet and the décor had been kept as close to Victorian in style as possible. A large crystal chandelier shone down on the guests. As Ralph admired the Victorian cornices around the ceilings, Cynthia whisked Katie off for a tour of the house. Lance got Ralph a drink and introduced him to some of the guests from outside the College. Peter, who had appointed himself pianist for the evening, sat at the piano and rendered a subdued selection of familiar tunes. It was not long before Ralph spotted his Dean, Rupert Granger.
“You know Ruth, of course,” Granger said.
“Of course. Katie and I enjoyed a lovely dinner at your home and met you again at Goodwood Races a while back,” Ralph said as he shook Ruth’s extended hand.
“So Ralph, any plans for the summer?” Asked Granger. “I was hoping that you might cover for me when Ruth and I go to France. My back’s been playing me up and a rest would do me good.” He smiled at Ruth who smiled back.
“Rupert works much too hard,” she agreed. “He can’t keep up this pace forever. He’s been to see a specialist, but of course he won’t do as they say and slow down.” She looked up fondly at her husband.
Ralph knew that this was the time to say no. A few years back he had been talked into covering for Granger during the summer break. He recalled the days of waiting around when people failed to keep their appointments, and noisy groups of overseas students using the place as a summer school; it had been a dreadful experience.
“I’m afraid I won’t be
