thing—Eddie’s old teacher left London about a couple of weeks ago to stay with a sister who lives in Sussex, on account of the fact that she needed to get away from London because she’s grieving, having lost her son.”
“Her son died? And probably a few weeks ago? That’s—”
“That’s one of them coincidence things, that’s what it is, Miss. But I haven’t finished. Turns out she has two sons, but one went off to Australia about five years ago—he’s an engineer or something like that. It was the other one who died, in an accident. Drowned, he was, in the river.”
Maisie shook her head. “Drowned? Did they have any details?”
“No, just that they’d heard he’d fallen late at night from Lambeth Bridge—might’ve been the worse for wear, by all accounts.”
“Billy—what was his name?”
“Bartholomew Soames. Everyone called him Bart, apparently. He was a newspaperman, a journalist. Only he didn’t work for just one paper, but would write his stories and then sell them to whichever paper was interested.”
Maisie was silent as she considered this new piece of the puzzle.
“Miss?”
“Good work, Billy. Look, your chest sounds awful. I think you should go home for the rest of the day.”
“I’ll be all right, Miss. I just want to try a few of the shops, see if I can find out more about Mrs. Soames, and I’ll pay a visit to the Lighterman over near Bookhams before I go home.”
“Be careful, Billy.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Miss. I’ll be all right.”
Chapter Five
M aisie!”
Maisie started as she answered the telephone, and held the receiver away from her ear.
“Maisie, I’ve missed you.” James Compton’s voice was so loud, the line echoed. “Did you really have to rush down to Chelstone in such a hurry?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, James, and I’ll be staying at the flat this evening—my father’s in London and we’ve a funeral to attend tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, yes, of course, that man who was good with horses, I remember now.” There was a pause, and James’ voice changed. “When will you come back to Ebury Place, Maisie?”
Maisie coiled the telephone cord around her fingers. He sounded like a wounded child; she felt as if she were being drawn into placating him in some way. “Well, how about Saturday afternoon? We could drive out to Richmond.”
“We’ve a party on Saturday, an invitation from Duncan and Rose Hartman. Remember? It’s his fortieth birthday, so there will be dancing until the small hours, then breakfast served at four in the morning to round off the night. And don’t forget there’s the Otterburn supper coming up next week too.”
“Oh dear, yes, of course.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
Maisie stood up straighter and smiled. “No, not at all—it’s just that I’d forgotten all about the Hartmans. I’m sure we’ll have a lovely time, James.”
“I think Priscilla and Douglas are going too.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it! Priscilla came back from a visit to Paris a couple of days ago, so she’s bound to have a new gown or two to show off.” Maisie smiled. She looked forward to seeing her friend.
“In my eyes you’ll always be the belle of the ball, Maisie.”
For a second, Maisie didn’t quite know how to respond. “That’s very sweet of you, James.”
“It’s true.”
Maisie glanced at the clock. “So, I’ll see you on Saturday, about lunchtime. Richmond in the afternoon, and the Hartman do in the evening.”
“I’ll see you then, my love.”
“Yes, see you, James.”
Maisie sighed as she replaced the telephone receiver, feeling the call’s tension ease. Though she hated to think about it, she wasn’t sure what had happened in the relationship, but this feeling of suffocation, which began as just a passing sensation, was growing. Now every conversation felt stilted, and she found herself questioning feelings she’d had for James and her own declarations of love. She picked
“Her son died? And probably a few weeks ago? That’s—”
“That’s one of them coincidence things, that’s what it is, Miss. But I haven’t finished. Turns out she has two sons, but one went off to Australia about five years ago—he’s an engineer or something like that. It was the other one who died, in an accident. Drowned, he was, in the river.”
Maisie shook her head. “Drowned? Did they have any details?”
“No, just that they’d heard he’d fallen late at night from Lambeth Bridge—might’ve been the worse for wear, by all accounts.”
“Billy—what was his name?”
“Bartholomew Soames. Everyone called him Bart, apparently. He was a newspaperman, a journalist. Only he didn’t work for just one paper, but would write his stories and then sell them to whichever paper was interested.”
Maisie was silent as she considered this new piece of the puzzle.
“Miss?”
“Good work, Billy. Look, your chest sounds awful. I think you should go home for the rest of the day.”
“I’ll be all right, Miss. I just want to try a few of the shops, see if I can find out more about Mrs. Soames, and I’ll pay a visit to the Lighterman over near Bookhams before I go home.”
“Be careful, Billy.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Miss. I’ll be all right.”
Chapter Five
M aisie!”
Maisie started as she answered the telephone, and held the receiver away from her ear.
“Maisie, I’ve missed you.” James Compton’s voice was so loud, the line echoed. “Did you really have to rush down to Chelstone in such a hurry?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, James, and I’ll be staying at the flat this evening—my father’s in London and we’ve a funeral to attend tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, yes, of course, that man who was good with horses, I remember now.” There was a pause, and James’ voice changed. “When will you come back to Ebury Place, Maisie?”
Maisie coiled the telephone cord around her fingers. He sounded like a wounded child; she felt as if she were being drawn into placating him in some way. “Well, how about Saturday afternoon? We could drive out to Richmond.”
“We’ve a party on Saturday, an invitation from Duncan and Rose Hartman. Remember? It’s his fortieth birthday, so there will be dancing until the small hours, then breakfast served at four in the morning to round off the night. And don’t forget there’s the Otterburn supper coming up next week too.”
“Oh dear, yes, of course.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
Maisie stood up straighter and smiled. “No, not at all—it’s just that I’d forgotten all about the Hartmans. I’m sure we’ll have a lovely time, James.”
“I think Priscilla and Douglas are going too.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it! Priscilla came back from a visit to Paris a couple of days ago, so she’s bound to have a new gown or two to show off.” Maisie smiled. She looked forward to seeing her friend.
“In my eyes you’ll always be the belle of the ball, Maisie.”
For a second, Maisie didn’t quite know how to respond. “That’s very sweet of you, James.”
“It’s true.”
Maisie glanced at the clock. “So, I’ll see you on Saturday, about lunchtime. Richmond in the afternoon, and the Hartman do in the evening.”
“I’ll see you then, my love.”
“Yes, see you, James.”
Maisie sighed as she replaced the telephone receiver, feeling the call’s tension ease. Though she hated to think about it, she wasn’t sure what had happened in the relationship, but this feeling of suffocation, which began as just a passing sensation, was growing. Now every conversation felt stilted, and she found herself questioning feelings she’d had for James and her own declarations of love. She picked
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