The Seventh Circle

Seventh Circle

CHAPTER 3

Molly Campbell swept into the dining room and removed her daughter's books from the table. 'Your father's guests will be arriving soon.'

'More of daddy's boring friends,' Alison moaned. 'I suppose they work at the hospital with him.

Molly picked up a duster. 'Dr Joshua-White is an important person in the medical association and he's got something to do with Tom's university.'

'I know I won't like them,' Alison pulled a face.

'Now you listen to me, young lady,' Molly wagged a finger. 'I want you to be on your best behaviour. We'll have none of that silly sulking we had last time.'

'Stop treating me like a child.' Alison threw her books into a draw. 'I'm eighteen. You should have noticed that I've grown up.'

'Almost eighteen,' Molly corrected.

'It's not fair.' Alison pouted. 'Just because I'm small, people think I'm not grown up. Some boys at the dance said I looked thirteen.'

Her daughter's outburst struck a sympathetic cord.

'Och, Lassie. Don't fret. I was small too but that didn't stop me marrying your father and he's over six foot.'

'I should have taken after daddy's side of the family,' Alison moaned. 'The boy's don't want to go out with me. I'll never get married. It's not fair'

* * *

Tom opened the refrigerator and slipped the wine inside. It was his contribution to the Campbell's dinner party. Their guests had arrived. He could hear them: a shrill-voiced female and a self-conscious male. He put a comb through his hair and did his best to remove mud from his denims before joining them in the dining room.

Molly gestured towards a smartly dressed couple standing stiffly with glasses in their hands. He recognised them as the pair who had watched him from beneath a black umbrella a few hours earlier. He reached out a hand to the white-haired man who stepped in his direction.

'Theo Joshua-White,' the other announced tersely.

'I'm Rebecca.' The second Joshua-White hurried across and stared at him as if expecting recognition.

Tom shook her hand vigorously, wondering if he should know her.

Colin came to his aid. 'Mrs Joshua-White is president of the East Sutton and Stanmoor archaeological society.'

'I'm delighted to meet you.'

He slipped into his standard routine when confronted by old-fashioned, socially climbing females, married to old-fashioned, socially climbing males. 'I must say that societies like yours are doing a truly marvellous job for the advancement of our profession.'

'I wrote to you,' she said.

Ah, yes...'

Tom adopted his serious expression.

'We had misgivings concerning your handling of the Lower Bramton excavations...'

Tom guessed the lady's letter was one of many he'd consigned to the wastepaper basket. He was searching for words when Colin saved him from further embarrassment.

'Tom, would you get some of that excellent wine you brought back from your excursion to the antipodes.'

It was a reference to Tom's trip to the South Seas as part of a TV-series. He went to the fridge and grabbed a fist-full of bottles. When he returned, the Joshua-Whites were seated at the dinner table. Molly directed him to a chair opposite Rebecca.