Spider Light(17)

But how far could Maud be considered as the key to Quire’s future?

As things stood, if Thomasina died Quire would pass to her cousin Simon, always providing he had not drunk himself into an early grave or a debtors’ gaol, either of which were possible. The thought of Quire in Simon’s reckless hands was a bad one, in fact Thomasina would almost rather see someone like that reprobate Cormac Sullivan have the place. There would not be a pheasant left in the woods, of course, and goodness knew the kind of ladies who might be imported into the bedrooms, but Cormac would keep up all the old traditions because he understood about houses and land and would be a far better trustee than Simon.

The only other solution was for Thomasina to marry and have a child of her own. This was out of the question. Not only was the thought of being in bed with a man utterly repulsive, the knowledge that she would have to yield to a man’s authority was repulsive as well. No, marriage was not to be thought of, even with the prospect of a son of her own.

But the idea of a child–a son–would not go away. Was there any way a child could be acquired without Thomasina marrying? How could it be contrived? Who could its father be? For a wild moment the image of the cat-faced child in Seven Dials rose up before her eyes, and she could almost see the son the girl would have: strong and tough and rebellious. The girl would probably do it as well if Thomasina paid her enough, and she could find her easily enough: she had her address on a half sheet of paper, which she kept discreetly at the back of her bureau.

But if there was to be a child it had better be Maud’s, although Maud would have to be coaxed to take part in the conception, never mind endure the birth. Still, there were ways of breaking down the resistance of a shrinking prudish virgin. Not violence, of course, nothing so crude, but perhaps something discreetly stirred in Maud’s food that would make her drowsy? Nothing harmful. There was laudanum which was easy enough to obtain, or even opium which was smoked in certain London clubs. Simon might know how to get hold of opium, or there was the ramshackle house in Seven Dials. A smile lifted the corners of Thomasina’s lips at the thought. The occupants of that house would certainly be able to get opium, although the cat-faced girl would charge at least triple for it. There would be some reason for needing the money–the girl always had a good reason: a sister who was sick was a favourite one.

And then Simon wrote to say he was utterly destitute again and his creditors were chasing him all over London. If there was any possibility of his dearest Thomasina helping him out–for old times’ sake and all that–he would be eternally her slave, and would do anything she asked of him.

Anything she asked.

The plan slid as sleekly and as smoothly as a serpent into Thomasina’s mind.

Latchkill Asylum for the Insane

Day Book: Sunday 26th September

Report by Nurse Bryony Sullivan



Reaper Wing residents allowed in recreation yard last night in accordance with Dr Glass’s instructions. (6.45 p.m. to 7.30 p.m.) However, tonight several displayed reluctance to return to wing afterwards, and two were downright defiant and had to be sedated, although nets did not have to be used this time, which is one mercy.

Matron Prout called in Dr Glass, and asked for his approval in putting a stop to this recreation hour. However, Dr Glass says very firmly that it must continue, since it’s the only fresh air (and degree of normality) Reaper Wing residents are likely to get. Pointed out that isolated outbreak of childish tantrums hardly on level with French Revolution.



Memorandum to Kitchens

Please to ensure that patients in Reaper Wing are only served with plain bread and water for the next two days–a light diet is very beneficial in calming agitated patients.

There is no need for Dr Glass to be informed of this small and unimportant alteration in their routine.

Signed F. Prout (Matron)



Latchkill Asylum for the Insane

Day Book: Tuesday 28th September



7.00 p.m.

Matron caught Dora Scullion and Nurse Bryony Sullivan smuggling supper tray into Reaper Wing. (Vegetable broth and slice of cold roast lamb from midday dinner.)



Both reprimanded by Matron.



Memorandum to Bursar

Please ensure that the week’s wages for Dora Scullion (skivvy) and Bryony Sullivan (nurse) are docked by three shillings and five shillings respectively.

Signed F. Prout (Matron)



Antonia did not feel like eating, but she heated some tinned soup for herself, and fed the remains of the smoked salmon to Raffles. There would be a perfectly innocent explanation as to how he had got in–perhaps Godfrey Toy had a key to the cottage and had let the cat in by mistake. This did not explain how Raffles had got the salmon out of the fridge, but it was either that or back to the ghosts or Antonia’s own madness. No contest, then. Sorry, Godfrey, for the moment you’ll have to be first suspect.

After the soup, she carried a cup of tea back to her favourite part of the cottage, the dining area by the stairs, and flipped on the laptop. The wall light directly over the table cast a pool of soft light, and the heater near the stairs gave out a pleasant warmth. Raffles padded across the floor to inspect the laptop, and apparently satisfied that it did not provide either a threat or an amusement, curled himself up at the foot of the stairs with the tolerant air of one prepared to keep the humans company until something more alluring turned up. It was rather comforting to have him there; Antonia had forgotten how companionable cats could be. She had forgotten quite a lot about companionship during the past five years.