The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗

come home. You’ll have time to think about it all when you’re back under your own roof. You cango into that library, pour yourself a nice cream sherry and put out a glass of malt as if Dr. Blanche was in the room, andyou can sit for a while and weigh it all up. You’ll know what to do.”

“How . . . how did you know I always pour a glass for Maurice? How did you know that’s what I do?”

“Because I do it myself sometimes. Just sit and think to myself, ‘What would Dr. Blanche say about that?’ I don’t do it asmuch as I used to, when I was the housekeeper, because I’ve your dear father at my side now. Frankie Dobbs is a wise man,Maisie—and he’s watching out for Anna, so don’t you worry. If you’re not here when that dog goes, we’ll look after her.”

“Thank you, Brenda—thank you so much.” Maisie looked up at the station clock. “Look, I’d better run—”

“Take care, Maisie.”

 

Maisie wiped the tears from her eyes, drew back the kiosk’s concertina door so she could check the departures board, and closed it again to make one more call. Again with her pile of coins at the ready, she began to dial, pushing button A to connect when Billy Beale answered. She heard the coins fall into the box, and began to speak.

“Billy—Billy—it’s me.”

“Where are you, miss? I thought you’d be here by the time I got back to the office.”

“I’m at the station—it’s important business, Billy. I’ll be back on Friday afternoon, I would imagine, though probably goingstraight to Chelstone. Look, I’ve not got long, but I want you to do something for me. I want you to find out everything youcan about Freddie Hackett’s father.”

“His dad?”

“Yes, that’s right. We know Arthur Hackett is a drinker, and we both think Freddie gets the sharp end of his temper when theman is in his cups—and Freddie is fiercely protective of his mother and sister. But I paid a visit to his mother today, andif a photo in their kitchen is anything to go by, Hackett has an obvious scar on his face. I’d like to know more about hishistory—even military history, and I’d really like to know where he got that scar. If you can sniff around and ask some questionsof Freddie’s teacher—pay a visit in confidence just as if you were checking up on him, making sure he’s all right—that mightgive us something to go on too.”

“She already knows me, miss, from when I took Freddie back to the school, so that’ll be easy. I know what to do.”

“Good. And one more thing—very much on the q.t.—find out from one of your newspaper friends what he knows about the French in London. And I don’t mean ordinary refugees—but military. Free French and anything else he knows about, say, French civil servants in London. I can get official information from MacFarlane, but I’d like to have any other snippets that come to the surface.”

“Right you are, miss. Consider it all done. I’ve written my report for the day—about the new clients.”

“I’ll try to telephone tomorrow, Billy. Can’t promise though.”

“I’ll be coming back down to the village on Friday. I miss my girls.”

“I’m sure they miss you, too. Perhaps you and I can have a chat on Sunday.” Maisie looked at the station clock. “Ooops, gotto dash, Billy. Talk to you tomorrow, I hope.”

 

Maisie picked up her case and ran toward the platform for the train soon to leave London for Edinburgh’s Waverley Station.Once aboard, Maisie was shown to her berth. Having stowed her suitcase in the luggage rack above the bed, Maisie loosenedher jacket and took off her hat. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. In another few minutes she wouldhear the guard’s whistle and the train would begin to move. Soon enough the steward would come to check the blackout curtainswere in place. At the front of the train, the locomotive would have a canopy across the engine that was required to be fittedonto all trains now, so that after dark sparks from the furnace would not be visible from the air, marking it as a targetfor any Luftwaffe pilot looking for an opportunity to add another notch to his Messerschmitt’s tail.

She slumped back in her seat and closed her eyes. The words had tumbled from her mouth without thought. I think I’ve had enough. But had she? What would she do all day if she were to pass the business to Billy and return to Chelstone full time? Anna was in school from nine until almost four, and for her part she knew she wasn’t the sort to idle away her days.

When the war was over, it might all be different—she might buy a house in London, a larger property but still near Priscilla.She would enroll Anna in school nearby, and make sure she was there to collect her daughter every single day when the schoolbell rang at four o’clock. But she had Frankie and Brenda to think about. Her father was over eighty years of age, and thoughhe claimed to be “as fit as a fiddle,” she had noticed the little things—the half-stumble here, a comment not heard there,a recent conversation forgotten. And now she had a job where the driver of a motor car sent to collect her had to be someonewho could protect her if it became necessary, and perhaps even kill to do so.

Chapter 6

Despite the fact that it was wartime, there remained a certain pride of place evident in the dining carriage, a sense thatstandards were there to be maintained even at the worst of times. Comfortable seats, crisp white linens, and table napkinsfolded flute-like in the center of cutlery positioned just so were a hallmark of the service expected by the well-to-do traveler.Fortunately, the clackety-clack, clackety-clack of wheels on rails rendered private conversation inaudible to fellow diners.

“According to the notes I received, we have twelve recruits all told. Who