As the Crow Flies

“No, no,” said Charlie, waving her back down. “Don’t be silly, it wasn’t that important. Our news can wait until later.”

“They’re very hot, so watch it,” said Daniel, dropping a crumpet onto Cathy’s plate. “Well, if my inheritance is of such monumental insignificance then I shall have to impart my own little piece of news first. Roll of drums, curtain up, opening line”—Daniel raised the toasting fork as if it were a baton—“Cathy and I are engaged to be married.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Becky, immediately springing up from her chair to hug Cathy in delight. “What wonderful news.”

“How long has this been going on?” asked Charlie. “I must have been blind.”

“Nearly two years,” admitted Daniel. “And to be fair, Dad, even you couldn’t expect to have a telescope capable of focusing on Cambridge every weekend. I’ll let you into another little secret: Cathy wouldn’t allow me to tell you until Mum had invited her to join the management committee.”

“As someone who’s always been a dealer, my boy,” said Charlie, beaming, “I can tell you you’ve got the better of this bargain.” Daniel grinned. “In fact, I think Cathy’s probably been shortchanged. But when did all this happen?”

“We met at your housewarming party. You won’t remember, Sir Charles, but we bumped into each other on the stairs,” Cathy said, nervously fingering the little cross that hung around her neck.

“Of course I remember and please call me Charlie. Everyone else does.”

“So have you decided on a date?” asked Becky.

“We were planning to be married during the Easter vacation,” said Daniel. “If that suits you?”

“Next week suits me,” said Charlie. “I couldn’t be happier. And where do you plan to hold the wedding?”

“The College Chapel,” said Daniel without hesitation. “You see, both Cathy’s parents are dead so we thought down here in Cambridge might be best, in the circumstances.”

“And where will you live?” asked Becky.

“Ah, that all depends,” said Daniel mysteriously.

“On what?” asked Charlie.

“I’ve applied for a chair in mathematics at King’s, London—and I’m reliably informed that their choice will be announced to the world in two weeks’ time.”

“Are you at all hopeful?” asked Becky.

“Well, let me put it this way,” said Daniel. “The provost has asked me to have dinner with him next Thursday at his lodgings, and as I’ve never set eyes on the gentleman in question before—” He broke off as the telephone interrupted his flow.

“Now, whoever can that be?” he asked rhetorically. “The monsters don’t usually bother me on a Sunday.” He picked up the receiver and listened for a moment.

“Yes, she is,” he said after a few more seconds. “May I say who’s calling? I’ll let her know.” He turned to face his mother. “Mr. Baverstock for you, Mum.”

Becky pushed herself out of her chair and took the telephone from Daniel as Charlie looked on apprehensively.

“Is that you, Lady Trumper?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Baverstock here. I’ll be brief. But first, have you informed Daniel about the details of Sir Raymond’s will?”

“No. My husband was just about to do so.”

“Then please don’t mention the subject to him until I have had the chance to see you again.”

“But—why not?” Becky realized it was now going to be necessary to conduct a one-sided conversation.

“It isn’t something I feel comfortable about discussing over the telephone, Lady Trumper. When are you expecting to be back in town?”

“Later this evening.”

“I think we should meet as soon as possible.”