The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall. Kathleen McGurl

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ on a pair of cotton gloves. He took the little flask out of the case and opened it. ‘Empty. We’re all right. I would guess those other slots in the case would have held the shot, probably lead. And maybe a cleaning brush. But how wonderful to have the pair, in such a lovely case! I think we’ll have to get these out on display.’

      ‘Do you think they were ever used in a duel?’ Gemma asked. It was a sobering thought – she might be holding a gun that had killed someone.

      ‘Who knows? They look very decorative. They could have been commissioned and bought just for show. Duelling pistols were often owned as a kind of status symbol. It’s unusual to have jewels in the stocks like this. And see the inside of the case’s lid?’

      Gemma looked. It was beautifully painted with a scene showing two eighteenth-century gentlemen engaging in a duel, standing stiffly, their pistols pointed at each other, tricorn hats and flared coats giving a hint as to the era. To one side of the picture was a spreading oak tree, and two other men stood, holding the reins of black and bay horses. It certainly looked as though the case was designed to sit open, with the interior on display. Gemma found herself hoping that the pistols had never been used in anger.

      ‘Well, I’ll leave you to add that to the catalogue,’ Roger said, as he stood up and pulled off his gloves. ‘Don’t put them away afterwards though – leave them on my desk. I’d like to take a closer look after we’ve closed for the day.’

      ‘Sure, will do.’ Gemma grinned at Roger as he left, then turned her attention back to the case. She lifted out the other pistol and the ramrod, and started making notes about the case first. As she turned it over she noticed a yellowing label stuck to the base of it. There was writing on it, in a spidery hand: Bequeathed by Mrs A. Maitland, 1923. These pistols were the ones used in the infamous shooting at Red Hill Hall.

      Gemma felt a shiver run down her spine as she read the words. An ‘infamous shooting’! – but not so infamous it was still remembered in 2015. Red Hill Hall – that rang a bell. She racked her brains trying to think where else she’d heard that place name recently. And then it came to her. Her boyfriend Ben’s sister Anna was getting married soon, and the invitations had arrived in the post a couple of days ago. The wedding and reception were to be held at Red Hill Hall. It was a country house hotel about five miles out of town.

      Who’d been shot, when, and why? She had an overwhelming urge to research everything she could find about the shooting. If it was described as ‘infamous’ by whoever wrote the label on the bottom of the pistol case, then it must have been covered by newspapers of the time – whenever that was. She turned to the museum’s computer, opened up a Google search page and started typing ‘shooting at Red Hill Hall’. But before she could press the Enter key Roger came back.

      ‘Gemma, could you take over at the front desk, please? The café’s short of milk and I told Jean I’d pop up to the Co-op to get some. Won’t be long.’

      ‘Sure. Coming.’ She shut the laptop’s lid and left the back room, locking the door behind her so that no visitors would be tempted to wander in. The research would have to wait until later.

      As it turned out, she did not get a chance to return to the back office that day. A coach party arrived and she was kept busy at the desk and in the small souvenir shop until closing time. All afternoon thoughts of the pistols ran through her head. Had someone been killed in this shooting? She supposed so – otherwise why would it have been described as infamous?

      ‘Roger, have you seen what’s on the underside of the pistols’ case?’ she asked, as they tidied the little museum shop after closing time.

      He hadn’t, so she told him. His eyes lit up. ‘Well, I haven’t heard of this shooting but it certainly sounds like something worth investigating. Feel free to do it here; perhaps start searching online tomorrow?’

      ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ she said, grinning at him. Something to look forward to at work tomorrow – infinitely better than measuring and describing endless ammonites for the catalogue!

      ‘You look lovely tonight,’ said Ben, kissing her as he stood to greet her in the Men At Arms pub, just a little way up the high street from the museum. It was her favourite pub – dark and cosy, old and full of character. ‘We’ve bought a bottle of Sauvignon. Nat chose it. Hope that’s all right for you?’

      ‘Fine, thanks. Hi, Nat,’ said Gemma. Actually she was more in the mood for a pint of bitter but as Natalie had got there first it seemed reasonable for her to choose the wine. Ben was so easy-going he’d drink anything. They were sitting at a table in a snug, its walls covered with dark wood panelling and hung with prints of Victorian country houses. She pulled an upholstered stool from under the table and sat down.

      ‘Cheers, then,’ said Nat, pouring her a glass and handing it over.

      ‘Cheers!’ Gemma clinked her glass against the other two and sighed happily. It was one of her favourite times of the week – being out for the night with her boyfriend and her best mate, the two people she loved best in the world. The three of them were inseparable, and had been ever since she and Ben had got together. Actually, she and Nat had been practically joined at the hip since school days.

      ‘Gemma, did you get Anna and Jake’s wedding invitation?’ Ben asked her.

      ‘I did. Can’t wait! It’s not till June though, is it?’

      ‘Nineteenth. I got one too. We’ll have to go shopping for new frocks,’ Nat said, with a wink at Gemma. ‘You’ll need something really smart. You can’t wear your usual tatty jeans and a fleece to a wedding, you know.’

      ‘Cheeky! Of course I’ll get something nice.’ Gemma gave Nat a playful punch on the arm. Anna, she hoped, would one day be her sister-in-law, if only Ben would get around to popping the question. And if he didn’t, well, next year was a leap year, so she’d do it herself. They’d been together seven years. It was time to make an honest man of him.

      She suddenly remembered the wedding venue. ‘Hey, Ben, have you ever been to Red Hill Hall?’

      ‘Where?’ He looked blank.

      ‘Where Anna’s getting married, you dolt.’

      He looked sheepish. ‘Oh yes, of course. No, never been there. Have you, Nat?’

      ‘No. It’s only just reopened under new management, hasn’t it? I think it was closed for years before then. I had a look at the website. Looks like a gorgeous setting for a wedding – all sweeping staircases and high-ceilinged ballrooms.’ Nat winked at Ben. ‘We’ll have fun there, won’t we – playing at lord and lady of the manor. Gemma, you could be my paid companion.’

      ‘Aw, why can’t I be the lady and you the companion?’ Gemma pouted.

      Nat laughed. ‘You’ll need a very expensive dress if you want to upstage me, my dear. I intend buying something really fabulous. I’ll look amazing. Amazing, darling!’ She fluttered her eyelashes at Ben, who grinned and blew her a kiss, but caught hold of Gemma’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

      Gemma smiled. Nat liked to play the prima donna and Ben would play along. It was part of their group dynamics. She had no doubt that Nat would look fantastic, and no doubt better than she would herself. Nat was a beautician, currently working at a salon at the far end of town. She’d had many jobs over the years, never staying at any of them for very long. She’d only started at the salon a few weeks ago. Gemma hoped she would СКАЧАТЬ