‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Max, where are your shoes?’
Max looked down at her bare feet. ‘In the library.’
‘It was one thing when you were thirteen. Could you put another pair on, please?’
Max nodded.
They stayed silent until Lady Bartlemas had turned the corner and then John knelt again. ‘It’s hard to tell with these old-fashioned locks, but I’d say it’s been picked recently. I mean, Bobby could practically do it, it’s so simple.’
‘I’ve locked it every night and every time I’ve left the room since Catherine arrived.’ She shivered. ‘Some stuff had been moved, but I thought Lucy had been tidying. She said no.’ Max tried to think rationally, but she pressed her fingers hard against her lips, and then scrubbed. ‘Who was in my room?’
‘Ken Marshall has a moustache.’ John stood up.
‘I find that hard to believe.’ She fumbled in her pocket for the key and opened the door.
‘Sit down. You’re shaking.’
‘What would have happened if Charlie hadn’t come by?’
‘You would have woken up.’
‘And?’ She paced. ‘How can—my room. This is my room. How could I stay asleep?’ Her lips felt so normal under her fingers, but someone had kissed her. Without permission, without her even being awake. ‘It’s worse than Richard. I knew who it was at least and…’
‘In Scotland?’
‘Kiss me. Please.’ She pulled John’s head down to hers and met his mouth fiercely. John stroked her back and slowed the tangle of their tongues. She breathed more easily when they drew apart.
‘Okay?’ John whispered.
She sighed. ‘But I can’t believe it’s Ken. He’d never hurt me.’
‘He’s definitely attracted to you.’
Max didn’t want to even consider it, but the words crept out. ‘Do you know who else has a moustache?’
‘Firmin.’
‘I’m not entirely convinced he’d have any qualms about hurting me. Although I don’t know how he could get into the house.’
‘I’m sure he’s in London. But I’ll have someone check.’ John tightened his hug. ‘As for getting into the house, it’s incredibly porous. Multiple doors, lots of houseguests.’
Max focused on a steady inhale and exhale rhythm. ‘Could it have been Tommy? Maybe the moustache was my imagination.’ How could she imagine Tommy would be willing to hurt her? But she felt again his stroke down her spine.
‘I don’t know, but I’m going to town.’
‘I’ll drive you.’
‘I hoped you’d say that.’ He stepped back from her. ‘Can I look around a minute? What’s changed?’
‘Some clothing.’ She swallowed. ‘My underwear. A few bits of jewellery, but nothing is missing.’
John lifted the bed skirt and sniffed. ‘I’m wondering where he hid after Charlie came by. He likely would have waited for Charlie to come back to leave. Did he smell like smoke?’
‘He must have. Why would I assume it was you?’
‘Because it was a man in your room in the middle of the night? May I?’
Max nodded, and John opened her wardrobe and then a couple of drawers.
‘My knickers are in the third drawer down. They’re still folded, just not as I left them. Do you…’
‘Don’t think about it.’ John opened the drawer and then closed it. ‘Your dressing table?’
‘I move things enough there I wouldn’t notice.’ She fumbled her jewellery box out of a drawer and put it on the vanity. ‘My jewellery has been shifted around, I think.’ Max looked down at her jeans. ‘I should change.’
‘Why?’
‘Mother thinks I need to dress appropriately to go to the village. Which doesn’t include jeans.’ She went to her wardrobe and drew out a black and white sundress.
‘Should I leave?’
Max smiled. ‘It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?’
‘Lady Bartlemas saw us.’
‘Oh, I don’t care. I’d rather not be alone, honestly.’ She unbuttoned her shirt quickly and slid out of her jeans. She tossed them on the bed. Marriage would mean…
‘Good Lord, Max.’ She turned. John held the lid of the jewellery box open. ‘Is this all real?’
‘Mostly. It’s not like I chose it; it’s inherited or from…’ One bracelet had been a present from Daniel, but she didn’t want to say that. ‘I don’t wear very much usually.’ She stepped into the dress and fiddled the zip up the side.
‘I’d noticed.’ He closed the box. ‘But nothing was taken?’
‘No. I had wondered if Catherine had slipped in somehow but…’ Would he ever give her a ring? Solid and real, Vivian had said. Daniel’s had just weighed her hand down, made her feel stymied and like a prize pony. But a ring from John… She looked at her hand. Its tremor.
‘Max. It’ll be okay.’
She folded her jeans and hung up the shirt. How would it be okay? ‘I’m ready.’
‘Lipstick,’ John said.
She crossed to the dressing table. She’d smudged the red around her mouth terribly. The cold cream felt pleasantly cool, but she couldn’t shake the prickliness of the moustache against her skin. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t…’
‘Honey, why would you think it was anything other than a dream?’ He rubbed her back as she repaired her make up.
‘I woke up in Berlin.’
‘And you’d barely fallen asleep and I clapped my hand over your mouth. I wanted to wake you up.’
Max slid the box back in its drawer.
‘You don’t have a safe or anything for that?’
‘Mother does, for her big pieces. But these aren’t all that valuable intrinsically.’
John shook his head.
‘I mean, there’s a bracelet my grandmother gave me on my sixteenth birthday, and some pearls…’
‘And the diamonds?’
Max slicked on new lipstick. ‘The little pendant is from my American grandparents, and the bracelet is paste.’ She blotted. It wasn’t, but hopefully John hadn’t looked at it too closely. Her finger circled the rim of the whiskey glass on the vanity. Lucy would just take them both to be washed and not ask why Max had two used glasses. ‘Plus, we’ve never had a robbery here.’ Her mouth had felt so odd this morning, not unlike it had after… She turned to John. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Heavily. I didn’t even hear Mrs Gould’s—damn.’
Max reached the chest of drawers first. She opened the decanter. ‘It smells like whiskey.’
John dashed some into the glass he’d used. He dipped a finger and tasted. ‘I don’t know. We’d need to get it tested.’
‘We’re hardly abstemious enough to crash out after one shot. I felt strange last night but I just…’ How many times had this person—people?—been in her room? ‘What am I going to do tonight?’ Her voice trembled, despite her best efforts.
‘I have a plan for that. And we’ll put a chair under your door handle and a few other tricks.’
‘Or I could stay in your room.’ Max wound her arms around his neck.
‘I’m pretty sure Lord Bartlemas would come after me with a shotgun and a minister if we did that. Not that I’d complain.’ He kissed her. ‘I probably won’t be in there tonight anyway.’
‘I’m scared,’ she whispered into his shoulder.
‘I know.’ His arms tightened around her.
‘What’s your plan?’
‘I need more bodies to do a complete search of the property. The cocktail party presents a great chance to check the rooms, but I can’t do it myself and appear at your lovely side.’ He kissed her cheek, his upper lip smooth. ‘And if we both go, I suspect we’d be missed. Will your father be on his way yet?’
‘He usually leaves around eleven. Why?’
‘Give me his number, please. I’ll need his help.’
Max wrote it on a bit of paper, and John pocketed it.
Downstairs, Max found
Charlie still in the library. Murder on the Orient Express lay on the sofa. At least they’d had that tiny window of normality. Her throat tightened.
‘Max?’ Charlie asked.
‘We’re going to town. Come with us and I’ll buy you breakfast,’ Max said.
‘Why?’
‘I need to make a call,’ John said.
‘It’s mended now, Aunt Nancy said.’
‘It’s a work call. It could take a while.’
‘Does it look like they’d mind paying for it?’ Charlie asked.
‘I need cigarettes too.’ John picked up the novel. ‘Can I borrow this?’ When Max nodded, he slipped the book into his jacket pocket.
‘Have you seen Victor and Emma?’ Max asked.
‘They went to the garden. Emma had some drawing kit with her. She hasn’t come down, and Tommy went upstairs a few minutes ago.’ Charlie stood up. ‘When did you change?’
‘Just now. Come on.’ She slid into her flats.
She led them out to the garage. What would John say about the five cars? How many times could the difference between… but John stood next to the silver paint and chrome of the Jaguar saloon. Charlie stopped beside him. ‘It’s a stunner, isn’t it? They won’t let me have a go with this one either.’
‘Understandably.’ John touched the roof. ‘The ’37?’ he asked.
‘Yep. They don’t drive it much.’ Charlie scuffed the floor of the garage with his shoe. ‘Sometimes I think the only decent thing about being heir is getting all the cars.’
‘Except mine,’ Max said. Did her teasing sound normal? ‘Come on, let’s go.’ She unlocked the Daimler, and they climbed in. She didn’t offer to let John drive. The smooth progression into town soothed her.
‘Where’d you run off to?’ Charlie asked.
‘No…’
‘I wasn’t in Max’s room last night.’
Max took a deep breath. So much for feeling calmer.
‘Are you sure you saw somebody?’ John asked.
‘Yeah. Somebody about your size. So who was it?’
‘I don’t know.’ Max squeezed the steering wheel. Not Tommy then. Firmin was John’s size. But that was crazy—why would Firmin be in Norfolk? Ken stood at least half a foot shorter than John, although his body was also heavy with muscle. Could Charlie have noticed the difference? How could she suspect Ken Marshall?
‘Are you going to call the police?’ Charlie asked.
‘I’m—I’m not sure.’ How could she explain that John could do?
‘What did you see? Exactly?’ John asked.
‘A tall man—shape—no, it was a man. Next to Max’s bed. There wasn’t much light but I had a torch. I didn’t shine it in because well…’ In her mirror, a flush rose in his face.
‘Did he startle?’
‘Nooo, not exactly. He was leaning over I think and he straightened up. I’m so sorry, Max, I should have come in or something.’
In town, Max and Charlie paused before the tea shop’s door.
‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ John said.
‘Do you want anything?’ Max asked.
‘Just coffee, please.’ Charlie pushed the door open, but John held Max’s hand. ‘It’ll be all right, honey.’
Max knew her mother would hate it, but she kissed John’s cheek. He headed towards the phone box at the edge of town.
Charlie took ages studying the small menu, and then ordered a full breakfast, just as she knew he would. Max asked for two coffees.
‘Who’s John ringing?’
‘He said work.’ What would Dad say?
‘Are we going to the police station after this? I’ve never been to a police station.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘Of course, I believe you. But I don’t know what I’d say to the police.’ She squeezed her hands together. Had her whiskey been drugged? Her mouth still felt odd.
‘Well, you should at least tell them,’ Charlie said.
The waitress brought two coffees and Charlie’s tea. ‘Your food won’t be long.’
‘May I please have a glass of water too?’ Max asked. The waitress nodded and walked towards the kitchen. Max dashed milk into her coffee and took a sip. Why did she have to tell lies, or at best half-truths to Charlie? ‘There’s no physical evidence. He—the person—didn’t hurt me, and they’ll just say it was a guest or something.’
‘He was too big to be Tommy. And if it wasn’t John, and presumably not Mr Westfield, who else could it be?’
‘I don’t know.’ She fought down nausea.
John opened the door and smiled. He brushed his fingers over her shoulder. ‘Okay?’
She nodded.
‘Max is refusing to go to the police,’ Charlie said.
‘I’ll tell Dad when he gets here.’
‘But…’ Charlie said.
‘Let’s talk about something else,’ Max said.
‘Okay, I have a question. Why didn’t Daniel marry Catherine?’ Charlie asked.
‘That’s your idea of something else?’ Max stirred her coffee till the liquid spun. ‘I doubt there was any love involved in it. Mostly though, Daniel needed an heiress.’ Not somebody he wanted to screw.
‘Fair enough.’ Charlie added milk to his tea.
‘Fair enough?’ John repeated. ‘How the hell is that fair enough? Couldn’t he just get a damn job?’
Charlie shrugged.
‘He did have a job,’ Max said. Would John always be prickly around mention of money? He very rarely swore. ‘I guess he wanted an heiress, not that he needed one. But his family expected him to marry money.’
John stared into his coffee cup. ‘I just assumed, with what I’d heard about the ring…’
‘Genteel poverty,’ Max said. ‘Enough to do the things expected of him, the clothes, the right university, but his family needed money. I heard later that he did a lot of gambling at university. I don’t know if that contributed.’ Did John honestly want to know, or did he think it would distract her from the thought of someone in her room? ‘Anyway, he found another heiress, pretty quickly. The ring was a family one. Meredith wears it now.’ Far better Meredith than Max. She turned her cup on its saucer. ‘It’s incredibly common. I mean, my father did it too. He’s just rather more honourable, and he says he fell in love.’
The waitress brought Charlie his breakfast. ‘Oh, I forgot your water. I’ll be right back. Nice to see you here so much this summer.’
‘That’s quite obvious.’ John didn’t look at her.
‘I suppose it is.’
John was silent for a moment. ‘Did you mind giving up the ring?’
‘Good God, no. It was hideous.’
Charlie paused in his steady consumption of food. ‘It really was. Even I could tell that, and I was only twelve. Max kept losing it places and he’d have massive tantrums.’
Max never thought she’d smile about that damned ring. ‘I’d forgotten about that. I never actually lost it—I’d just forget to put it back on.’
‘Sounds like quite a guy.’ John sipped his coffee as the waitress returned with a glass of water. ‘If you didn’t like the ring, and… why did you agree to marry him?’
‘John.’ She stared at him till he dropped his gaze.
‘Sorry. It’s none of my business.’
‘It’s a good question though,’ Charlie said. ‘You never seemed to like him.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ She sighed. ‘He could be charming, and he was for a long time. I saw him a lot at university parties. And Mother really wanted me to get married. I’d already added two years by joining the ATA instead of obediently going off to university. She had no academic aspirations for me, you understand—she saw it purely as a marriage market. So I said yes.’ Her lipstick marked her coffee cup. ‘His sister was lovely.’
‘My sister’s nice.’ John smiled at her.
Max laughed. ‘And you’re extremely charming.’
&
nbsp; ‘Aunt Nancy was pretty cross when you ended it,’ Charlie said.
‘I remember, thanks, Charlie.’ Max sighed. Had their relationship ever recovered? ‘Mother didn’t want me to do a PhD either. Anyway, like I said, Catherine did me a favour.’ She cradled her cup in her hands. How could they be cold in July? ‘Were your calls okay?’
‘All arranged.’
In the car, Charlie stayed so quiet Max thought he must have fallen asleep. The silent drive calmed her, as did John’s confidence in whatever plans he’d put in place with his calls.
Charlie suddenly moved. ‘Okay so here’s a question about girls.’
‘If it’s about sex or condoms, I’d rather you ask John later,’ Max said quickly.
Charlie laughed, although he still blushed. ‘No, why do they like jewellery?’
‘Not all girls do,’ Max said.
‘You’re weird.’
‘I like some jewellery.’ She looked at her left hand. Would John ever give her a ring? Why did she even want one?
‘Do you have a girl in mind?’ John asked.
‘No.’
‘Besides, at sixteen you’d be talking flowers, maybe chocolate. Jewellery is a bit advanced.’ Max waited for an approaching car to pass before turning into the drive.
‘Does it matter that much? When you’re older?’ Charlie asked.
Max didn’t look at John. ‘No. And yes.’
‘How the hell is anybody supposed to understand girls?’
‘We’re not another species, Charlie. You could just try talking to some. Ask them what they like.’ Please God, let there be some teenagers at the cocktail party tonight. She drove up the drive. Sunlight shone too brightly through the gap in the shade from the fallen tree. She parked the car in the garage and they all climbed out. Charlie headed out the door. Before she could follow, John caught her hand.
‘What do you like?’
Max blushed. ‘Jewellery? Generally?’
‘Either.’
Max hugged him, hiding her face in his shoulder. ‘I like you,’ she whispered.
‘And jewellery?’
Would he produce a ring? In the garage? Why did it matter so much to her? ‘I like—well, I prefer white gold.’
‘That I’d noticed.’ He kissed her. ‘I love you.’
The Running Lie Page 24