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

if he asks you to marry him. I said no too many times because I was afraid oflosing myself and . . . well, what with my work, you know. But now the years have passed, I confess I harbor some regrets—Ithink I deprived myself of much happiness. Anyway, I’ll be in touch, Maisie.”

 

Consulting her watch, Maisie realized that, once again, it was time to make her way back to the flat in Holland Park, thoughon this evening she would not disturb the privacy of Priscilla and her family. She enjoyed the proximity to the house ownedby Priscilla and Douglas. It was not unusual for Priscilla to telephone Maisie almost as soon as she knew she had arrivedhome from the office, asking her to come round and join her for a “quick G and T.” The trouble was, Priscilla’s G and Ts wereneither quick nor to Maisie’s taste, though she loved her friend’s company.

When Gabriella mentioned Lord Julian in their earlier meeting, it had given Maisie an idea—one she admonished herself fornot acting upon earlier. Having arrived home and checked her blackout curtains, she went to the telephone and dialed the numberfor Chelstone Manor. She felt a sense of encroaching loss when it took Lord Julian longer than usual to come to the telephoneafter being summoned by the butler—so much would change with his passing.

“Maisie—how are you? Our delightful Anna was here this afternoon, and she was quite enchanting. We had a long discussion aboutthe next gymkhana, and I think she is up for it.” Lord Julian’s enthusiastic tone was encouraging.

“She’s been very upset about losing Emma,” said Maisie.

“Massive dog, wasn’t she? Went a long time, that one. The larger breeds don’t always have a good lifespan. Anyway, my dear,I do believe you’ve telephoned to ask me a question. Fire away!”

Maisie smiled, her dark thoughts now completely banished by the elderly man’s hearty response. She knew he welcomed beingasked to assist her with his contacts.

“There’s something I’m curious about, and I think you might be able to help with it—you still have quite a name at the WarOffice.”

“And a number of those so-called contacts who know that name are hanging on and haven’t yet met their makers. I should warnyou, though—in case you didn’t hear—the records are in a terrible state, because the office where they were kept was bombed.But give me the details, Maisie, just in case I can find out anything. My pen is at the ready.”

“I already know about the records office, but I’m just sniffing around for anything else. The name is Hackett.” She spelledout Arthur Hackett’s surname. “According to information I have already, he was in the East Surrey Regiment. It would be usefulto know if there was a neurasthenia report—any comments from commanding officers regarding temperament.” She paused. “Andany special skills for which he was noted.”

“Special skills?”

“Oh, you know—was he an excellent shot, or was he trained in hand-to-hand combat? That sort of thing. Or perhaps he had anability in languages. Any details about his background, that’s what I’m looking for—and pension arrangements.”

“Right you are. Probably take a couple of days—so I suppose you can rest until then.” Julian laughed.

“Too busy—as you well know!” Maisie had an easy relationship with her former father-in-law, though she had once found him intimidating. “Before I go—do you remember Maurice’s friend Gabriella Hunter?”

“Gabriella—once met, never forgotten. Fiercely intelligent woman. Brave and opinionated. Rowan loved her, though they wereknown to lock horns—and come out laughing. She and Maurice were . . . were very good friends, I suppose you could say.”

“Yes, so I understand. I’ve seen her a few times lately, and I think she’d very much like to see Chelstone again. As you know,the Dower House is full, but I wondered . . . perhaps you and Lady Rowan might invite her at some point. I think she coulddo with a Friday to Monday.” Maisie ran the telephone cord through her fingers, a habit formed by nervousness on the firstoccasion she had ever used a telephone. “Julian, I think she’s rather lonely now.”

“I’ll have a word with Rowan, and she’ll give her a ring—excellent idea to get her down here, and it would do Rowan the powerof good to see her. And when will you be home again?”

“By Thursday, I hope—I only came up to town today.”

“All righty, I should have something for you regarding this Hackett in a day or so, I would imagine. Always interesting tobe one of your worker bees! Until then, Maisie.”

Worker bees. Maisie considered the comment. Yes, she had her worker bees, valuable contacts who would seek whatever information she needed,buzzing around their gardens of endeavor until they found the pockets of intelligence she had requested. But the riches theybrought to her were never sweet; indeed, the plethora of detail gathered during a murder inquiry tended to have a stark bitternessto it.

Chapter 15

The interviews with F-section agents who would be leaving for France within the week took up Maisie’s entire day. In addition,she was tasked with reviewing files on new recruits. For those who had endured the rigorous training, once again Maisie wouldbe compiling reports on each man or woman, attesting to their state of mind prior to departure. It would have been unusualfor one of the cohort to be plucked out and sent home at this final stage, but it had happened in the past.

It was late in the afternoon, following a final interview, when a young woman in the uniform of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanryentered the interview room. Female recruits to the Special Operations Executive were ostensibly members of FANY.

“Mr. MacFarlane requests your presence, ma’am. Please follow me.”

Maisie was glad to leave the small room, which had only a skylight to provide natural illumination. She was escorted downa flight of stairs to a room where MacFarlane was seated alone at a desk. The young woman pulled out the only other chairfor Maisie, who began to feel a little claustrophobic in the windowless office.

“Thank you, Lawson,” said MacFarlane, without looking up at the young woman.