Read Arms and the Women for Free Online Page B

company.
'The poet Cowper managed to keep religious mania at bay for several decades by dint of writing,' she said spiritedly.
'God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform,' said Dalziel, whose capacity to surprise should have ceased to surprise her. 'Then the doorbell rang?'
'No. I heard their car and spoke to them out of the window. Then I went downstairs and opened the door.'
'Oh aye, you said. No print on the bellpush then. Pity.'
'I'm sorry. I should have thought on.'
He smiled at her sarcasm, then said seriously, 'When they mentioned Rosie, it must have been right bad.'
'Bad? It felt like the bottom had fallen out of the universe. It was like getting the worst news you could imagine, and knowing it was all your own fault.'
She spoke with a vehemence which came close to being excessive.
'All your fault? Nay, luv, can't see how you could ever think that,' he said, viewing her closely.
If Dalziel had been by himself, she might have stumbled into an explanation.
Maybe something like, I felt so relieved that morning not to be going with Rosie, to know she was in Peter's care, to have a day at last when I could stop worrying about her. But not just for her sake, and not even because I could probably do with the rest myself, but because when we nearly lost her, I knew then what I must have known before but never had occasion to look straight in the eye, that my single-handed sailing days were over forever, that I'd been pressed as part of a three-man crew on a lifelong voyage over what were hopefully oceans of absolute love. Except if it's so absolute, how come there's a little part of me somewhere which, like Achilles's heel, didn't get submerged? Forgive me muddling my metaphors, it's probably this story I'm writing. But that's another story. No, what I'm trying to say is, no matter how I try to hide it from myself, there's something in me that sometimes yearns to be free, that gets nostalgic for the long-lost days of free choice, that comes close to seeing this love I feel not as a gift but as a burden, not as a privilege but a responsibility. Perhaps I'm simply a selfish person who knows now she can never be selfish again. Does anyone else feel like this? Am I a monster? That's why I was so ready to believe them, that's why I felt so guilty. It was like God had decided I hadn't got the message loud and clear last time and I needed another dose of the same to get me straight.
Something like that, maybe. But probably not, even if Novello and her little notebook hadn't been there.
'Just a figure of speech, Andy,' she said.
'So you'd have gone with this pair?' asked the Fat Man.
'Anywhere they wanted. If they'd kept it vague I'd have got in that car and . . . and what, Andy? What did they want with me?'
'That's for them to know and us to find out,' said Dalziel. 'So what put you onto them?'
'I've told you!'
'Aye, but telling's like peeing to a man with a swollen prostate, you think you've got it all out but there's often a bit more to come.'
'Who speaks so well should never speak in vain,' said Ellie. 'OK. At first I couldn't think of anything except Rosie being ill again. Then when they said about trying to contact Peter and being told he wasn't available, I nearly said, of course he wasn't available because he's on the coach!'
' 'But you didn't? Why not?'
'I don't know. I reckon to start with it was just a case of being too shocked to speak, and that gave me time to think, I suppose. And suddenly it was like fireworks going off in my brain. I found myself thinking, it's not just Jehovah's Witnesses that don't drive thirty thousand pound BMWs. I mean, I know the council tax has gone up, but surely the Education Department doesn't kit its employees out like this? Sorry. It makes sense to me, I assure you. At the same time I registered that two or three times they said he when they were talking about the head at Edengrove. Now, one thing anyone in our local Ed Department will know is that the head of Edengrove is Miss