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

running from the things that frighten him, chiefly his father coming after him or his mother. Children can be as protective of their mothers as the other way around.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

As soon as she’d put forward the question, Maisie heard clicks on the line, and knew the caller had heard the pips indicatingthat more coins must be placed in the telephone box or the call would be disconnected. She held her breath.

“Sorry about that—one of my pennies dropped right through and I had to push it in again.” The woman gave a frustrated sigh.

“Shall I call you back?” offered Maisie.

“Not to worry—I’ve put in enough money to finish. Now, where was I? Oh yes—suffice it to say that by the time I left, I wasconvinced that Freddie had indeed witnessed some sort of terrifying event, but I have to weigh it up against the experiencesof other children I’ve met who have seen something equally troubling, and there’s something different about Freddie. Childrenuse all sorts of means to make the unthinkable normal, so they can deal with it and carry on. Freddie doesn’t seem to havedone that.”

“And what would you suggest, Mrs. Langley?”

“I think it would help if we saw more of each other. I’m a believer in not just sitting in a drawing room talking, or in anyplace where there are chairs and a desk between two people having a conversation, so I could have a word with him during astroll. I think the main thing is to ease his burden – after all, the old saying rings true, that a problem shared is a problemhalved. Freddie needs it halved, halved again and then halved again, until he is a proper young boy with no more worries thananyone has at a time like this.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Langley,” said Maisie. “I know seeing Freddie has taken time away from your grandchildren. I was so sorryto hear of your daughter’s death in a bombing.”

“Yes, it’s a terrible thing to lose a daughter—and she was so beautiful and clever. She was a doctor, you know. But we have to carry on for the sake of her children.” The woman seemed to catch her breath before continuing. “But one more thing about Freddie. He is a sensitive soul—almost too sensitive. And in my experience, children of that kind do two things: they constantly imagine the future and see everything at its worst, and they try to stop the bad happening before it’s even threatened to take place. They also become overly protective of those they love—to the extent that they would do anything in their power to ensure their safety. Freddie Hackett is too young to have all that on his shoulders, and he is deeply aware of the volatility in his life.”

Maisie’s understanding of the situation was immediate. “Are you saying he is close to a breakdown?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The family feel safe in their new flat—which I understand you helped them obtain. ButI don’t think it’s secure enough for Freddie—not yet anyway. That’s the plight of a lot of people, but in the Hacketts’ caseit would be hard to place them as evacuees outside London, given the situation with the little girl. People can be picky aboutwho they have under their roof, which we know is a terrible thing, but some people find any disorder unsettling—it’s a reminderthat it could have easily happened to them. There’s no accounting for what might scare people. By the way—I met little Irisand she appears to function very well. Her disability doesn’t hold her back as much as I might have expected—testament toher mother’s care—though we both know there are those who would discriminate against her. I wish we could pull some strings . . .”

The nurse’s words seemed to taper off, and Maisie wondered if it were by design, or if there was no more to say, though thecall did not come to a close until Maisie had made sure she knew how much to pay the nurse and where to send the remittance.

Before returning to the kitchen, where she would linger with her stepmother and daughter, to laugh and joke, to listen toAnna’s stories and Brenda’s habit of telling Anna what school was like in her day, Maisie sat for some time with her handson her chest, one on top of the other, as she tried to cradle away the pain in her heart.

 

Maisie’s thoughts seemed to ricochet between Freddie Hackett, Elinor Jones, Pascale Evernden and Priscilla, and her concernsremained ever present as she worked in the Dower House library, played with her daughter or took long, solitary walks acrossthe countryside. Priscilla, Douglas and Tarquin had returned to London, where they would grieve together with the two olderboys, who were on their way to the Holland Park mansion.

It was late on Sunday afternoon when Maisie picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number she knew by heart, but rarelyused.

“MacFarlane!” The greeting was almost curt.

“Robbie—it’s Maisie here. I’m sorry to call you on a Sunday.”

“And at home. I could have been away at evensong.”

“No, you couldn’t Robbie—I know that much about you.”

“Does your pal know about Jones?”

“Yes. I broke the news to the family as soon as I arrived in Chelstone. Is there word from Pascale?”

“You were right—she’s making her way across to Granny’s house. I just hope she’s bloody careful.” Maisie heard MacFarlanepause to take a sip of whatever drink he was holding in his hand. “But the good news is that she’s going there because shecan use an escape line to get back to Blighty. Our connections indicate she could be here within about a week, all being well.”

“I’ll breathe more easily when she’s in London.”

“Maisie, unless there are indications to the contrary, she’ll only be here for debriefing to see if she’s got the will andspine enough to go back there, and after some more training, that’s where she’ll be. We can’t invest in qualified agents andnot use them.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Hmmm. Anyway, you didn’t