Dreaming of the Bones

admit it to Grace, she was beginning to find them a bit wearing. Perhaps it was just people in general—it took more and more effort to leave her writing long enough to keep up the most basic of social connections. Fictional characters, after all, usually behaved in the ways one intended, though there were no guarantees even there.
    Or perhaps it wasn’t people at all, but only that she was growing more jealous of her time—she sensed the grains speeding through the hourglass, and she had so much still to say.
    The doorbell chimed as she reached the bottom of the stairs. ”See, I told you so,” she said to Grace with a smile.
    It was Darcy, early as always, so that he could help with the coats and the drinks. ”Mother, dear”—he paused to kiss her—”you look divine.”
    ”Flatterer,” she said, laughing, and reached up to touch his cheek. ”You’re frozen, darling. Come in by the fire, and pour yourself something before the hordes arrive.”
    ”A bloody puncture, can you believe it?” he said as he made himself a gin and tonic, then went to stand with his back to the fire. ”And on the Madingley Road , in traffic so heavy you’d have sworn it was Friday rather than Tuesday. I’m damp as an old dog, and will soon fill your sitting room with the aroma of steaming fur. But at least I’ll be warm on the inside.” He smiled at her and knocked back half his drink. ”Who’s coming, then? Can one have a singular horde?”
    ”It’s a minimal horde tonight. I’m afraid,” said Margery as she poured herself a small sherry. ”Just Ralph and Christine, and Iris. Enid canceled out at the last minute, a bad case of the grippe, Iris said. Oh, and I almost forgot, Adam Lamb.” Darcy laughed. ”Where on earth did you dig up old Adam?”
    ”In the food hall at Marks and Sparks , actually. I bumped into him in the frozen foods, frowning over two dinners as if he might take all day debating their relative merits. He looked as though he hadn’t had a decent meal in months, and I took pity on him.”
    ”I’m sure he groveled accordingly.”
    ”Darcy, that’s neither fair nor kind, and you know it. He was polite, and he seemed pleased to be asked, and I see nothing wrong with that.”
    ”You’ll forgive him anything just because you were at school with his mother,” said Darcy, teasing. ”Next thing I know, you’ll be calling him a ‘nice boy.’ ”
    The bell chimed again, and Margery said as she rose from the sofa, ”I can say anything I like. But you, my dear boy, had better behave yourself.”

    Enid’s absence had actually suited very nicely, thought Margery as she surveyed the guests assembled round her table. For one thing, it made them an even number, and for another, she always found Enid’s fluttering rather tiring.
    She’d put Adam beside Iris, as they weren’t well acquainted, and Darcy next to Christine, and that left her to make comfortable conversation with Ralph.
    Adam had turned himself out quite well. The elbows of his suit jacket might be a bit shiny, but he wore a crisply starched shirt, and he appeared to have got himself freshly barbered for the occasion.
    Darcy was right, of course; she did have rather a soft spot for Adam because his mother, Helen, had been an old school friend. His parents had held such hopes for him— they’d been sure he would take a distinguished degree in history, then read law, and after that, of course, follow his father into politics. Margery, though, even then had doubted the wisdom of investing oneself in one’s children, and had watched their disappointment helplessly.
    It was ironic that she, who had not cared so desperately, had no cause for complaint, for Darcy had done quite well for himself. She supposed that Iris would be forced to retire soon, and that Darcy would succeed her as Head of Department. The position would allow him to exercise both his taste for power and his unfailing charm.
    The charm was in evidence now, as he bent close to Christine Peregrine’s sleek blond head, telling some ribald story. It was a good thing that he and Ralph had known each other a long time, and that Ralph was not easily ruffled.
    ”Darcy’s in fine form tonight,” said Ralph as he reached for the decanter and refilled her wineglass.
    ”Just what I was thinking,” said Margery. ”And that Christine is looking especially lovely.”
    Ralph smiled. ”Just what I was thinking. I’m not getting much opportunity to appreciate her from either