“Any word of Mrs Davenport?” Giles asks, interrupting my thoughts. “There are salad sandwiches on the plate there, sir.”
The guilt stabs me like a knife for being disloyal to our marriage. I’m having immoral thoughts about wooing Norah. More than thoughts, they are full-blown fantasies.
“No word of my wife. No.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, she was never the woman for you. She’s flighty. You need a solid woman. Someone who is kind and good-natured.”
We both can hear Norah losing her patience with the Freddie. She is loud and shrill all the way from the hall.
Giles chuckles.
“The work we are doing is frustrating Norah,” I tell him. “She talked about herself maybe driving the Crossley.”
Giles is silent.
“I know,” I say. “Times have changed, haven't they? When did we ever think that I’d consider anyone else driving my car? But it makes sense. Could we look out the keys and giving her a trial run?”
“I suppose so, sir. If you insist. And those men were about again and bothered Cook this morning. She’s looking to talk to you about their prowling around in the muck and dragging it back inside. She’s talking about hiring someone to clean. She’s not got the time. I warned her not to bother you, and that I’d see to cleaning it myself.”
“Could we hire someone part-time?” I suggest. “I cannot see the dust and dirt but we need to keep standards up.”
“I was going to suggest Norah might –” Giles stops and Norah’s voice is louder still.
She is stating her case for women’s rights rather strongly to the General. She is wasting her time for Freddie is a man’s man if ever there was one.
“Perhaps that’s not her role in the household though?” Giles says, obviously hearing Norah's speech about the detective work she’s capable of. “Let me see if we can find someone else.”
“That’s settled then,” I say. “Let’s not annoy Norah with too much today. She just seems to be in a bad mood. It will pass.”
“I certainly hope so, sir.”
Giles leaves and I cock an ear to eavesdrop on Norah but the call must be over for there is no high-pitched woman’s voice in the hall.
The proposed questioning of Lady Dornan is bothering me. She’s a lady of some standing with property and connections. I shall have to tread very carefully. Suddenly I hope that Norah hasn’t telephoned in the current mood she’s in. Such questioning will take tact and decorum. Lady Dornan is a woman of steel. And will I be fit for the task? I have annoyed the unflappable Norah.
Retracing my steps through the day, I cannot for the life of me see what has happened to make Norah this angry so quickly. Perhaps our kiss has concerned her? Perhaps she’s feeling it was a bad idea? She kissed me. This is all her doing, yet somehow I know that it is I who will have to mend things. Whatever shall I do?
I’m about to put on some music to help me think when Norah comes in. She walks towards me.
I aim to speak first. “Before you say another thing, I want you to know that our kiss meant the world to me. I hoped that you might have dinner with me here this evening?”
Norah sniffs. Is she upset? I cannot see, it is most frustrating.
“I cannot this evening. I’m sorry. Another time perhaps?”
“That’s fine – and I’ve asked Giles to look out the car for us to use. Actually it will be for you to drive from now on.”
“I hope you don’t think that I kissed you to get privileges?” she says.
“Of course not.” My gut clenches. I’ve done the wrong thing yet again. She is still cross with me. Dear Lord in heaven, a man has a terrible time of it in this world. “I just wanted to mention both things to you before something else distracted me.”
“I don’t think we should ever kiss again,” Norah says. “It was my fault that it happened. It shouldn’t have – I’m sorry.”
The disappointment hits me like a slap.
“We won’t talk about it again,” she states. “Agreed?”
I gulp and nod. “Agreed.”
“I rang that Lady Dornan and you’re not going to believe this,” she says. “She’s coming to see us tomorrow.”
Chapter 17
Norah Walsh
I told Laurie about the Sinful Roses advertisement. It came out in a moment of weakness. What a complete arse I am! In trying to reverse our relationship, I’ve taken to arguing with him. It’s a Fredrick tactic. When not wanting to commit or make promises, he would cause us to fight. I shouldn’t have kissed Laurie and I most definitely shouldn’t have mentioned the Sinful Roses advertisement. My only saving grace is, Laurie will never be able to find it in a newspaper by himself.
As soon as I had the words out I wanted to take them back. I hate hiding things from him and I do enjoy the game of being detectives. In trying to be too clever I slipped up. It’s a sad state of affairs that I am here under a veil of lies. This was to be easier than it’s turning out to be. I wasn’t supposed to care about the man. I was going to use all of this Sinful Roses business to my advantage. My female heart is failing me. Or maybe it’s somewhere lower down that's taking over my brain!
It pains me to look out on Davenport Manor’s gardens. It all looks very beautiful in the morning light. The dew makes everything sparkle as the slight early morning fog lifts. Strong branches silently swing on the mighty oaks. I feel pity for Laurie as I watch the scene. He should see this beauty. The lawn stretches out to meet the evergreen shrubbery and I can see on through the tunnel they make to the rented farmland scattered with sheep. If those at home could see me now, what would they think?
The long window panes are in need of a clean and a spider has made its home in the top corner, webbing its prey in broad daylight. And standing here in the dappled sunshine of a foreign land, I feel at home for the first time. Possibly ever. It’s like I’ve been here before, in a past life. Stood on this very spot, looked out on this same view, and had the same loving feelings towards the house and its owner. I shake myself and wait on the feeling to pass, but it doesn’t.
The house is in good repair, considering it has been neglected for years. It’s not being used for the army in the usual ways big homes are being commandeered, and I’m glad of that.
“It’s not big enough,” Fredrick said when I wondered aloud why they hadn’t spoiled the peace of the corridors and grounds with their big boots and nasty guns. “And Charlotte’s father, Laurie’s father-in-law, is an influential bugger. Another problem. Whatever the spoilt little whore wants, the little whore gets, and I think that’s why Laurie was put in the worst possible danger on his posting to the Royal Engineers in Italy.”
I shake my curls and run a finger over my throat and toss out hair from my collar. A gardener doffs his cap. “You think that you’re Lady of the Manor,” the voices in my head sneers. “Getting notions.” My conscience always tries to talk sense to me, but I rarely listen. I’ve always wanted more out of life. Always saw myself as something more. I understand why women seek out the likes of the Sinful Roses or ask to be involved in the war effort. Anything is better than the drudgery of normal life. I relate to Eve’s boredom.
Fredrick said on the phone already this morning that she’ll be moved soon from Armagh to his headquarters at Thistleforth House. That is perhaps ten miles away and so she will be available to tell tales to Laurie. Thankfully, she’s still refusing to speak with a woman in the room and I’m glad of that. I hate looking at her. Possibly because I can see that we’re not that much different from one another. Eve Good wants to be like me. She has ambitions beyond her station too. And look where they got her. No-one to care at all.
The guards I met in the women’s goal had little sympathy for her. It’s for the best that we’re all back in England. I’m not as exposed, Laurie is at home and once Eve is brought here she’ll be on unfamiliar territory for a while. She’ll need to settle in. The Roses might also take time to find her. It will give me some ti
me.
“Get Laurie’s confidence built up soon,” Fredrick says when I telephone. “That Charlotte will turn up and want to move back in. By all accounts this disappearance is to extract ransom from her own father. I doubt it has anything to do with Roses or the likes of them. Keep an eye on Laurie, for he’d pay up his last shilling for the cow.”
“We cannot have that,” I agree – too quickly. “I wouldn’t want Charlotte Davenport back. I’ll do everything in my power to stop her.”
Fredrick pauses and I can hear him drag on a cigarette.
“Laurie is much better without her,” I add quickly.
“Does Laurie want her back though?” he questions cruelly. “The sap probably does. He cannot see what’s good for him. He cannot see you, my dear. Make him see you.”
“I hate when you mock like that,” I say. “You know that he won’t want her back and you know that I’ve more to me than being just a wife or lover!”
“Do you now?” Fredrick says with a sniff. “You women are full of yourselves these days. You can talk all you like. It’s actions that count. Like these so-called Sinful Roses – women can talk all they like about killing – but they don’t do it very well. For instance, is there anything of note from what this Eve Good is saying? Any other scandalous women to report to your superior?”
Instead of answering him, I go on to ask how they will move her to his base at Thistleforth House where she’ll be imprisoned. I ask about how secure it is.
He refuses to be deflected. “I know that you’re hinting at being here full-time, Norah Walsh,” he says. “It’s not going to happen. We both know how much you want to be one of the Special Op Executives here and, no, Norah, you cannot become one of them. Stop asking me. It will never be possible for a southern Irishwoman to become an SOE. You are getting access to Eve Good. That’s as much responsibility as I can give you. Anyhow, I’m not going to discuss any more of this on the line right now.”
Fredrick waggles the women who go to war at me regularly. It is like a carrot on a string. I don’t know as much about this band of secretly trained women as I would like. But I do know that they are a vital band of females and even the likes of Fredrick Ashfield respects them. If only he felt I was good enough to join their ranks! Once I get this case solved, I will make him see sense.
It’s my turn to ignore what he has said. “Is Thistleforth House ready for Eve Good, though?” I ask again. “She won’t escape, will she?” The thought of a lunatic, murdering woman on the loose is enough to tip the public into total panic. But Fredrick wouldn’t allow that to happen. Thistleforth is his baby, so he isn’t going to let a pesky woman sully his reputation. I let the image of me helping Eve abscond race across my mind, and I smile. It would serve him right if I did!
“A blind ex-solider playing detective is enough for you to worry about,” Fredrick says. “Keep him in line, won’t you, Norah? And hurry up with the seduction. He’s in need of a good time.”
Fredrick is being a cad and he doesn’t care. It disgusts me. Laurie Davenport is to be a means to an end. But now he’s more than that. Fredrick ruins things with his lurid suggestions and orders. I’m a piece of meat he’s chewed and spat out for Laurie to taste now. Yuck!
Laurie’s kiss was a good surprise. On many levels it changed me. An electric current switched on and it lit up all that I was and where I was headed. It made me question my own motives, and Laurie’s gentle nature lulled me into the trap of loving that kiss and wanting more of the same. There’s a safe, gentle passion between us that is tearing me asunder. I cannot fall for a blind man almost fifteen years older than me. Not now! Not when the world is at my feet and I can achieve things. These feelings are coming at the worst possible time. I’ve many things I can and should do. Falling for a man is not one of those things!
I don’t normally want more kisses from any man. I’ve learned to put up with more, but I’ve never had butterflies or my heart aching for love of that kind. Never. And now I’m going soft on a man just when I might actually find a little power of my very own. It has got to stop. Must end.
I open the envelope on the tray from Eve Good and scan the first few pages. I’m eager to start for the day, but am even more thrilled at seeing Laurie’s smile as he comes into the room. No amount of talking to myself is helping me see sense. His lips turn upwards again when I move nearer to where he is standing. How handsome he looks, and he cannot see what I see. And I doubt that Laurie Davenport realises that he could seduce me in a heart-beat and this makes me feel for him all the more.
Chapter 18
Eve Good
Lydia warned me not to go to Ravenscairn again. “Whatever happens you must wait.” I could hear her as plain as day. Did she mean that to be the case, even if I didn’t kill John? Was I still to wait then? Would they believe that I didn’t do it? Of course they wouldn’t believe me! And, regardless, I was supposed to help others now? But how was I supposed to do that when I did nothing myself?
This was ludicrous – and I aimed to tell them! I had to let them know that it was all an accident. A tragic accident that I had nothing to do with.
I wondered then if maybe the women knew that it was not an accident? That maybe a Sinful Rose did it? I thought too that Tim might have had something to do with John’s fall.
Tim knew the house well and he was a sturdy lad. He might have caught John unawares and have given him a neat shove to his death. It could easily have been an accident with no malice. Perhaps John found Tim in the house and they had a scuffle? My mind tortured me.
No one even hinted that I might have pushed John. There weren’t any odd glances or comments. Everyone was full of pity and sympathy and I lapped it up. I maintained the facade well. Of that I am proud. I must be mad to be proud of that.
***
I decided to take Marjorie to the Christmas Carol Service in Netterby. Of course, she didn’t want to go. Snow had started falling. I badgered her into the hired car and ignored her moans. I abandoned her in a church pew with the excuse of checking that the driver was definitely waiting in the village until we’d finished singing Christmas carols.
In the winter darkness Ravenscairn was a silhouette in the snow. Elegant as ever, it was frozen in time. The bare trees were still and silent of crows. There was not even a flicker of light about the windows and the curtains were drawn.
There were no footprints to the front or the rear and, although it was only a month since John died, surely I should have heard something from the women by now? Ravenscairn House looked empty.
When I returned to Marjorie she hissed, “There’s a lady wearing a coat like yours,” and she pointed in the direction of the choir stalls.
There, singing her heart out, was Alice. And, yes, oddly enough, she was wearing a red coat similar to mine in cut. It took maybe ten minutes for her gaze to meet mine and then she nodded knowingly.
On the way out she shook the minister’s hand for a long spell, like she knew him.
I shuffled Marjorie forward.
“Please don’t pull me, dear.”
“The car,” I mumbled and elbowed my way forward without my elderly charge.
I sidled past the minister’s back when he leaned in to kiss a babe in arms and I caught up with a striding Alice.
“Do not talk to me,” she mumbled out of the side of her mouth.
People were walking in our direction but were on the other side of the street.
“If you must, come to Ravenscairn on Christmas Eve.”
“Christmas Eve?” I asked, unsure of the hushed instructions.
“Happy Christmas,” she said for the benefit of no one. “Now fuck off.”
I took Marjorie home.
When I reached my house, near the side door there was a hidden shadowy figure. In fear I tried to reverse but the figure moved towards me.
“Tim?”
He was cold in every sense. His coat would suit an elderly man and covered him to well below his knees. A scarf was tight
up over his mouth and his face was almost hidden.
“I’ve been here a few times but the doors are always locked. Since when did you need a locked door?”
He was harsh. Extremely hard.
“I did see you at John’s funeral but I couldn’t speak to you then and there,” I said. “And I had no way of contacting you. I couldn’t chance being seen. Come inside – you must be frozen. It’s good to see you.”
There was snow on his boots and coat and it fell on my hall tiles. I moved right to go towards the kitchen, but he headed for the bottom of the stairs.
“What happened to John? He just fell?” he asked, looking up the stairs and pulling the scarf from his face. “Here?” He examined the scene and then bent down by the door to see it all more clearly.
“I was waiting to come and get you.”
He sat on the second step. John lay about there.
“You ignored me,” he said. “You didn’t come to get me when he was gone. You don’t care about me at all. I know you, Eve. Don’t lie to me, like you lie to everyone else. I’m not stupid. I know what’s what.”
“How could I speak to you at John’s funeral? What would it have looked like?”
The Murdering Wives Club Page 10