Edward was expounding scripture to the Lady Lucy-Emma, whose sarcastic comments went completely over his head. Lord Charles and Clarice were engaged in a fierce debate over politics and the latest batch of election results. Joseph saw his chance and turned to his right to speak to Anne-Mary, who was moving food around her plate with a fork.
“My dear, you haven’t spoken to me at all since that night.”
Anne pretended not to hear him.
“You were a real asset to the team, Anne - we need people like you.”
“Mr Worthy,” replied Anne-Mary, still focussed on her near-empty plate, “this is not a subject I choose to discuss.”
“We struck a decisive blow for animal rights, Anne, a blow they will not soon recover from. You and I made a difference.”
“I regret few choices I have made in my life, but that night is one of them.” She looked up and faced Joseph. “Mr. Worthy, please do not press the matter further.”
“But don’t you see? We need you! You and others like you. These bastards need to be stopped, we need to send them a message. There’s another lab. They cut up monkey brains while they’re still alive! Anne, come on another job, I promise it will be different.”
He reached out and grasped her hand. Firmly, she removed it.
“Joseph, for two weeks I have seen his face every time I close my eyes. The bulging eyes, the sweat on his brow, the blood erupting from his broken lungs. I see everything, all the time. What he was doing to those creatures was wrong, I know that but... I can’t do it. Now, please drop it.”
She turned away once more.
“It all comes down to those dirty under-dwellers,” said Clarice, becoming the centre of attention instantly. “They are a scourge, a blight on our fair city.”
“There at least, we can both agree,” said Lord Wytherington. “They have no place in London. Quite frankly, the culls are the best thing for them.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that, my Lord. I have volunteered to join a cull Sunday next, after tea,” said Joseph. “Would you care to join me?”
“Perhaps,” answered Charles, “I may be busy”.
“Are the culls really necessary?” said Lucy-Emma. “They seem a bit, um, harsh.”
“Reverend, what have you to say on the subject?” asked Charles.
“Well,” Edward coughed, “scripture is somewhat vague on the subject. There are many interpretations but there are those who say we must purge the unclean from our midst.”
“Well, that certainly settles it then,” said Lady Wytherington.
“They are sub-human,” declared Clarice. “All they do is take their drugs and sleep in filth. Without them, London could soar like an eagle.”
“I couldn’t agree more, my dear,” said Joseph. “And I think there may be at least one other who shares your passion. Lord Wytherington, do you know much about your under butler?”
“He seems to be adequate at his job.”
“I saw him at a cull a month ago,” continued Joseph, “he seemed - keen. Anyway, I’m all in favour of it. The only good rat is a dead rat.”
Emily shuffled out of the dining room to refill the wine. She did not look at anyone.
“Please excuse me,” said Lord Wytherington, “but nature calls.”
