‘What does synonymous mean?’ asked Mary of the table in general. ‘I don’t think it’s got anything to do with sinning.’
‘And you’d be right, Mrs Kemp,’ said Franklyn, eager to be of help. ‘It only means equal to … on a par with …’
‘Young Mr Bloody Know-all …’ muttered Stoddart. ‘In my day articled clerks knew their place …’ He pawed Anita’s arm to bring her attention back to him. ‘You thinking of getting your articles with Gillorns?’
She coloured slightly, but whether it was at his touch or because of the question an observer could not have known. ‘I hope so,’ she said, rather primly, ‘once I’ve taken my Part One exams this summer.’
Kemp was surprised; the subject had not been bruited before – at least not in his presence. He looked round for Tony but he was already at the door saying goodbye to the Cantleys.
The party was breaking up. It did not seem the right time to ask Tony whether it was his suggestion that Anita Allardyce should join the firm. Kemp doubted it; Tony was a stickler for doing things the right way, he would have spoken to Kemp first. It looked as if the lion cub – as Mary had called her – had a way with her …
Later, Kemp found himself next to Tony in the hall. Around them the departing guests were jostling for coats, calling up taxis, looking for their spouses, arranging lifts for those unfit to drive, and taking farewell of their host and hostess. For a few moments there was a revival of the original happy atmosphere.
‘You still without your car, Lennox?’ Tony asked him.
‘Get it back tomorrow night, thank goodness …’
‘You know I’m up in town all day tomorrow? It’s to do with my parents’ estate, and I’ve got several other little errands’ – he looked across at Anita, meaningfully – ‘including a present she doesn’t know about yet …’
‘That’s all right, Tony. Your department runs itself anyway. You’ll miss that Law Society Branch meeting on the budget but Sally can fill you in later.’
‘Pity about the meeting … I’m afraid I’d clean forgotten … But this business in town can’t wait. As you know, I’m sole executor and it’s the final winding-up …’
‘You won’t be missing much. It’s a nuisance for me, too … I’d meant to pick up my car earlier but Lorimer says it won’t be ready till after five and that’s when the Branch meets. Sally’s going to take me in her car and then she’ll drop me off at the garage later. The way some of these old boys drone on it’ll be after eight before we get away. But David Lorimer will leave my car out back as he usually does so I’ll just pick it up there after the meeting.’
‘You still go to Lorimers’? Bit out of the way, isn’t it?’
‘David Lorimer’s an old client of ours. Besides, he’s always given me good service. As you know, I’m hopeless with what goes on under the bonnet … Hey, I think that’s my coat you’ve got there.’
‘Gosh, I thought it was mine,’ said Tony, handing it over. ‘I’ve never known you wear an overcoat …’
‘Comes of getting married, and coddled. As a single man I never felt I needed a coat, but now Mary insists …’
‘Well,’ said Tony, ‘it looks as if you and I go to the same outfitters.’
‘Difficult not to. Newtown’s hardly the metropolis …’
‘That reminds me,’ said Tony. ‘Do you want any errands run while I’m up in town tomorrow? I could call in at Clement’s Inn -’
‘Definitely not,’ Kemp interrupted with some fervour. The last thing he wanted was for Gillorns Head Office to get wind of any trouble at the Newtown end. ‘I’m keeping a very low profile as far as they’re concerned until this nasty business blows over – as I’m sure it will …’
The good wine had got to him, and the effect was to make grave matters seem of less moment.
Young Lambert, on the other hand, had been anxious under the eye of his beloved, and therefore somewhat abstemious. ‘I hope so, Lennox, indeed I do. Doesn’t do the firm any favours this thing getting out.’
Had Kemp been his usual discerning self he would have recognized a fair comment from one who was both colleague and close friend. In his present euphoric state, however, he only grinned and said: ‘Nothing for any of us to worry about – certainly not you. Have a nice day in town. Did you say something about a present for your fiancée? I hope she likes it, women can be difficult to please … Ah, here’s my wife with that expression on her face which says I’m talking too much …’
‘Our taxi is here, Lennox,’ said Mary, squeezing his arm. ‘Let’s go and say the proper things to the Allardyces.’
But Zachary had loomed up behind them, and he laughed.
‘Don’t spoil yourself by being proper, Mary,’ he said. It was obvious that he was rather taken with her. ‘All these English, now … they’re too damned polite. Except when they drink, of course. You were a bit hard on old Nick Stoddart, but then you’re a pretty direct lady. Comes of you being an American, I suppose …’
‘Comes of me being me,’ said Mary, firmly. ‘Thank you for a very enjoyable evening. Now I must have a word with your sister.’
Zachary seemed anxious not to let Kemp go. He began a rambling account of a recent planning appeal which had been settled in favour of what he called ‘his’ corporation, dropping some influential local names along the way and making much of his own contribution. Kemp listened politely but with no great interest in the matter, although he was intrigued by the Australian’s self-esteem and could see that it could have impact in some quarters.
He was about to turn away when Allardyce stopped him again. ‘I say, Lennox, I’m sorry if I was out of line asking about those letters … But that piece in the paper did make the thing public. Have you really had your life threatened?’
‘We all step on someone’s toes from time to time. When we deal in controversial issues there are always people who get upset.’ Kemp tried to turn the conversation. ‘You must have met a few angry protestors in your line of work, Mr Allardyce.’
‘Sure, I’ve been threatened by farmers’ dogs and looked down the barrel of a shotgun. Folk don’t always like what we do, but at least they meet us face to face … Anonymous letters, now that’s something else again. That’s sneaky. You’ve not been attacked physically, have you?’
Kemp shook his head. He had no wish to share his experiences with Zachary Allardyce, though the man would make a formidable bodyguard should he ever need one. Fortunately he was rescued from this disturbing thought by the reappearance of his wife and they went out together to find their cab.
‘These people, Lennox …’ Mary Kemp sat contentedly in her own sitting room with a coffee cup in her hand and a glass of cognac on the table beside her. ‘… They don’t act real …’
‘Parties are all the same in Newtown – and in the whole of England, too, for all I know.’ Kemp, back in his home, was apt to be philosophical.
‘Are we holding a postmortem on social events?’ she asked.
‘We do appear to be doing so on this one.’
‘Well … Should I be giving you my impressions of it? From an outsider’s point of view, an American for instance …’
‘For so they took you …’
‘Being not one of them …’
‘Nor an Australian from the outback … Come on, Mary,