The Moonlit Murders: A historical mystery page-turner (A Fen Churche Mystery Book 3) by Fliss Chester (best ereader for pc .txt) 📗

of his penalty for keeping her on board. ‘So, shoo, and I’ll see you for disembarkation in half an hour or so.’

‘Cheerio, Fen.’ He opened her cabin door and then turned and looked back at her. ‘And thank you. For staying on board. You’re the only person I trust round here, well, round anywhere really. It’s good to have you with me.’

Fen smiled him and returned his wave as he left and closed the door behind him. Then sat back down at the little Formica table and flipped the paper over, reading through what she’d read before carrying on writing.

There was a lump in her throat as she wrote her apologies and excuses, and not just because she was letting down her nearest and dearest. James’s words had more than flattered her; they had touched her. She realised after a few moments that she wasn’t staying on board simply because Arthur had asked her to look out for James. She rather enjoyed his company, too.

15

A few hours later, Fen and Eloise were walking down the main shopping street of Southampton. Like Le Havre, Southampton had seen its fair share of bombs, but it had been fortunate enough to retain a few streets of shops and good old English pubs.

Although she’d never been to this part of Hampshire before, Fen was surrounded by familiar sights and she said as much to Eloise as they rounded the corner into St Michael’s Street.

The spire of the church for which the street was named loomed tall, untouched in the Blitz of 1940. Some said it was divine intervention, others that the Luftwaffe pilots had used the glint of moonlight off the spire to navigate their way to the docks.

She gave a shiver. The November drizzle had resumed after the brief spell of clear moonlight the night before and her old, lightweight trench coat really wasn’t doing much to keep her from the chill.

‘Good to be home?’ Eloise asked, her voice soft.

‘Yes.’ Fen took a breath in and stiffened her resolve. She placed a hand on Eloise’s arm. ‘But I am very excited about our adventure. Now the war’s over, I can safely say England will be here waiting for me when I get back.’

Eloise smiled at her and placed her hand over Fen’s. ‘I’m so glad you agreed to come. I really have been devoid of all company, save that of Aunt Mariella.’ She widened her eyes and Fen knew exactly what she was implying. Eloise then looked more thoughtful. ‘I hope I didn’t upset Genie last night, you know, when I said you’d make a better companion. I do admire her. Don’t you think she is quite something?’

‘Oh gosh, yes. Terribly glamorous and so pretty,’ Fen agreed. ‘You look very similar actually.’

‘Do you think?’ Eloise said with a smile. ‘Aunt M said she looked a bit like me, though with “enough warpaint on to scare off the last of the Nazis”.’ She laughed.

‘Said in her own inimitable way.’ Fen winked at her new friend, then returned to the conversation. ‘I noticed it at the docks actually and almost wondered if there had been some sleight of hand during boarding, as when I first saw you, I thought Genie, whom I’d only just met, had done some quick costume change and headed over to first class!’

This really made Eloise laugh. ‘Can you imagine! Aunt M taking her under her wing? That would be a gas.’ They walked on a bit and Eloise’s tone changed to a more mindful one. ‘What I was going to say about Genie though, about how I admired her, apart from the glamorous dresses and boas and all that, is that she is mistress of her own destiny. Do you get what I’m saying?’

Fen thought about that for a bit before replying. ‘You mean she’s travelling independently. Well, with Spencer of course—’

‘Yes, with Spencer! Her fiancé! Her freely chosen lover who is by her side as she makes her own choices and heads off to a new country to carve out her own career. Isn’t that something?’

‘Now you put it like that, I suppose it is rather,’ Fen said. ‘Though I wonder if Spencer is the driving force behind it all? More than Genie realises perhaps.’

Eloise turned and looked at her, an enquiring eyebrow raised.

Fen explained. ‘He strikes me as the kind of chap who likes to be in control. Not of her, per se, but in life.’

‘Hmm. Regardless, she’s chosen him and that’s what counts. No Reginald D. Vandervinters for her.’

‘True, there is that. I think it’s a rum old scheme of your mother and aunt to tie you to him for so long. Isn’t there any way you’ll get a say in whether you marry him or not?’

Eloise ignored the question, looking to be deep in thought.

Fen didn’t prod her for an answer and changed the subject. ‘What sort of dresses are you looking for? I doubt good old Southampton will have much to rival New York, but that looks like a rather nice ready-to-wear place over there.’ Fen pointed across the road to where a smart ladies’ clothing boutique looked open, even if the owner hadn’t taken off the packing-tape crosses on the windowpanes of the bowed window yet. Someone had obviously given it a new paint job recently, and there were some very pretty dresses in the window.

Eloise nodded and they crossed over the road to the shop. A bell tinkled as they pushed open the door, having paused for a few moments to admire one of the dresses in the window, matched with some very expensive-looking shoes and a super array of accessories.

Inside, the shop was just as Fen had imagined it to be. Apart from the window display, there was a single rail of dresses and blouses and other than that there were posters advertising the latest fashions, but not much else on the walls, save a few cabinets containing hats and boxes of stockings.

‘Can I help you, ladies?’ the smartly dressed woman