Chapter 12: The Honest Threshold

My aunt's taxi driver refused to cross the velvet rope.

He stood in the porch holding an umbrella and a small overnight case.

Elaine had called him from the sitting room after deciding she might need a different coat.

He'd brought the case from the boot and wanted his fare settled.

"Come inside while we sort it," she told him.

He looked at the rope stretched across the hall.

I'd put it there to keep the moving chairs away from the front door.

"Looks private," he said.

My aunt's handwritten sign remained attached to one end.

I took the case from him and set it beside Elaine.

"You're welcome to step inside if you want," I said.

"I'm the host."

The driver gave me a polite look and remained beneath the porch lamp.

I admired his judgment.

Rupert had come to the hall to see who'd interrupted us.

He looked annoyed at finding a living witness.

"There's been a bit of confusion," he told the driver.

The man looked at the chairs, then at my brother's card still protruding from his pocket.

"Happens," he said.

Elaine couldn't find her purse without moving the silver shape inside her handbag.

She held the bag away from us and searched its smallest pocket instead.

I wanted to demand the fork now.

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