Betrayal at Lisson Grove tp-26

by Anne Perry

  If she were in Ireland, who would they ask for help? Was she even right to go? Which was the greater emergency? Should she ask any new maid, if she could find one, to call Great-aunt Vespasia, if she needed help? Vespasia was close to seventy, although she might not look it, and certainly had not retired from any part of life. Her passion, courage and energy would put to shame many a thirty-year-old, and she had always been a leader in the highest society. Her great beauty had changed, but not dimmed. But was she the person to make decisions should a child be ill, or there be some other domestic crisis such as a blocked drain, a broken tap, or if the coal ran out, the chimney was on fire, and so on?

  Gracie had risen to all such occasions, at one time or another.

  Charlotte stood up, washed her hands in water that was almost cold, and took off her apron. She would ask Gracie’s advice. It was something of a desperate step to disturb her new-found happiness so soon, but it was a desperate situation. Please heaven, Gracie was at home!

  It was an omnibus ride, but not a very long one, to the small red-brick house where Gracie and Tellman lived. They had the whole of the ground floor to themselves, including the front garden. This was quite an achievement for a couple so young, but then Tellman was twelve years older than Gracie, and had worked extremely hard to gain promotion to sergeant in the Metropolitan Police. Pitt still missed working with him.

  Charlotte walked up to the front door and knocked briskly, holding her breath in anticipation. If Gracie were not in, she had no idea where she could turn next.

  But the door opened and Gracie stood just inside, five foot tall with her smart boots on, and wearing a dress that, for once, was nobody else’s cast-off altered to fit her. There was no need to ask if she was happy; it radiated from her face like heat from a stove.

  ‘Mrs Pitt! Yer come ter see me! Samuel in’t ’ere now,’e’s gorn already, but come in an ’ave a cup o’ tea.’ She pulled the door open even wider and stepped back.

  Charlotte accepted, forcing herself to think of Gracie’s new house, her pride and happiness, before she said anything of her own need. She followed Gracie inside along a linoleum-floored passage, polished to a gleaming finish, and into the small kitchen at the back. It too was immaculately clean and smelled of lemon and soap, even this early in the morning. The stove was lit and there was well-kneaded bread sitting in pans on the sill, rising gently. It would soon be ready to bake.

  Gracie pulled the kettle over onto the hob and set out teapot and cups ready, then opened the pantry cupboard to get milk.

  ‘I got cake, if yer like?’ she offered. ‘But mebbe yer’d sooner ’ave toast an’ jam?’

  ‘Actually, I’d rather like cake, if you can spare it,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I haven’t had good cake for a while. Mrs Waterman didn’t approve of it, and the disfavour came through her hands. Heavy as lead.’

  Gracie turned round from the cupboard where she had been getting the cake. Plates were on the dresser. Charlotte noted with a smile that it was set out exactly like the one in her own kitchen, which Gracie had kept for so long: cups hanging from the rings, small plates on the top shelf, then bowls, dinner plates lowest.

  ‘She gorn then?’ Gracie said anxiously.

  ‘Mrs Waterman? Yes, I’m afraid so. She gave notice and left all at the same time, yesterday evening. Or to be exact, she gave notice late yesterday evening, and was in the hall with her case when I came down this morning.’

  Gracie was astounded. She put the cake — which was rich and full of fruit — on the table, then stared at Charlotte in dismay. ‘Wot she done? Yer din’t never throw’er out fer nothin’!’

  ‘I didn’t throw her out at all,’ Charlotte answered. ‘She really gave notice, just like that. .’

  ‘Yer can’t do that!’ Gracie waved her hands to dismiss the idea. ‘Yer won’t never get another place, not a decent one.’

  ‘A lot has happened,’ Charlotte said quietly.

  Gracie sat down sharply in the chair opposite and leaned a little across the small wooden table, her face pale. ‘It in’t Mr Pitt. .?’ Her voice was husky with sudden fear.

  ‘No,’ Charlotte assured her hastily. She should not have let her think it even for an instant. ‘But he is in France on business and cannot come home until it is complete, and Mr Narraway has been thrown out of his job.’ There was no use, and no honour, in concealing the truth from Gracie. After all, it was Victor Narraway who had placed her as a maid in Buckingham Palace when Pitt so desperately needed help in that case. The triumph had been almost as much Gracie’s as his. Narraway himself had praised her.

  Gracie was appalled. ‘That’s wicked!’

  ‘He thinks it is an old enemy, perhaps hand in glove with a new one, possibly someone after his job,’ Charlotte told her. ‘Mr Pitt doesn’t know, and is trusting Mr Narraway to support him in his pursuit now, and do what he can to help from here. He doesn’t know he will be relying on someone else, who may not believe in him as Mr Narraway does.’

  ‘Wot are we goin’ ter do?’ Gracie said instantly.

  Charlotte was so overwhelmed with gratitude, and with emotion at Gracie’s passionate and unquestioning loyalty, that she felt the warmth rise up in her and the tears prickle her eyes. This was absurd, and certainly no time for such self-indulgence.

  ‘Mr Narraway believes that the cause of the problem lies in an old case that happened twenty years ago in Ireland. He is going back there to find his enemy and try to prove his own innocence.’

  ‘But Mr Pitt won’t be there to ’elp ’im,’ Gracie pointed out. ‘’Ow can ’e do that by ’isself? Don’t this enemy know ’im, never mind that ’e’ll expect ’im ter do it?’ She looked suddenly quite pale, all the happy flush gone from her face. ‘That’s just daft. Yer gotter tell ’im ter think’afore ’e leaps in, yer really ’ave!’

  ‘I must help him, Gracie. Mr Narraway’s enemies in Special Branch are Mr Pitt’s as well. For all our sakes, we must win.’

  ‘Yer goin’ ter Ireland? Yer goin’ ter ’elp ’im. .?’ She reached out her hand, almost as if to touch Charlotte’s where it lay on the table, then snatched it back self-consciously. She was no longer an employee, but it was a liberty too far, for all the years they had known each other. She took a deep breath. ‘Yer ’ave gotta!’

  ‘I know. I mean to,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘But since Mrs Waterman has walked out — in disgust and outraged morality, because Mr Narraway was alone in the parlour with me after dark — I have to find someone to replace her before I can leave.’

  A succession of emotions passed across Gracie’s face: anger, indignation, impatience and a degree of amusement. ‘Stupid ol’ ’ap’orth,’ she said with disgust. ‘Got minds like cesspits, some o’ them ol’ vinegar virgins. Not that Mr Narraway don’t ’ave a soft spot for yer, an’ all.’ The smile lit her eyes for an instant, then was gone again. She might not have dared say that when she worked for Charlotte, but she was a respectable married woman now, and in her own kitchen, in her own house. She wouldn’t have changed places with the Queen — and she had met the Queen, which was more than most could say.

  ‘Gracie, Emily is away and so is my mother,’ Charlotte told her gravely. ‘I can’t go and leave Jemima and Daniel until I find someone to look after them, someone I can trust completely. Where do I look? Who can recommend someone without any doubt or hesitation at all?’

  Gracie was silent for so long that Charlotte realised she had asked an impossible question.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘That was unfair.’

  The kettle was boiling and began to whistle. Gracie stood up, picked up the cloth to protect her hands, and pulled it away from the heat. She swilled a little of the steaming water around the teapot to warm it, emptied it down the sink, and then made the tea. She carried the pot carefully over to the table and set it on a metal trivet to protect the wood. Then she sat down again.

  ‘I can,’ she said.

  Charlotte blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’r />
  ‘I can recommend someone,’ Gracie said. ‘Minnie Maude Mudway. I knowed ’er since before I ever met you, or come to yer ’ouse. She lived near where I used ter, in Spitalfields, just round the corner, couple o’ streets along. ‘Er uncle were killed. I ’elped ’er find ’oo done it, ’member?’

  Charlotte was confused, trying to find the memory, and failing.

  ‘You were riding the donkey, for Christmas,’ Gracie urged. ‘Minnie Maude were eight then, but she’s growed up now. Yer can trust ’er, ’cos she don’t never, ever give up. I’ll find ’er for yer. An’ I’ll go ter Keppel Street meself an’ check on them every day.’

  Charlotte looked at Gracie’s small, earnest face, the gently steaming teapot and the home-made cake with its rich sultanas, the whole lovingly immaculate kitchen.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘That would be excellent. If you call in every day then I shan’t worry.’

  Gracie smiled widely. ‘Yer like a piece o’ cake?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Charlotte accepted.

  By three o’clock in the afternoon, Charlotte was already packed to leave with Narraway on the train the following morning, should it prove possible after all. She could not settle to anything. One moment she wanted to prepare the vegetables for dinner, then she forgot what she was intending to cook, or thought of something else to pack. Twice she imagined she heard someone at the door, but when she looked there was no one. Three times she went to check that Daniel and Jemima were doing their homework.

  Then at last the knock on the door came, familiar in the rhythm, as if it were a person she knew. She turned and almost ran to open it.

  On the step was Gracie, her smile so wide it lit her whole face with triumph. Next to her stood another young woman, several inches taller, slender, and with unruly hair she had done her best to tame, unsuccessfully. But the thing that caught Charlotte’s attention was the intelligence in her eyes, even though now she looked definitely nervous.

  ‘This is Minnie Maude,’ Gracie announced, as if she were a magician pulling a rabbit out of a top hat.

  Minnie Maude dropped a tiny curtsy, obviously not quite sure enough to do it properly.

  Charlotte could not hide her smile — not of amusement, but of relief. ‘How do you do, Minnie Maude? Please come in. If Gracie has explained my difficulty to you then you know how delighted I am to see you.’ She opened the door wide and turned to lead the way. She took them into the kitchen because it was warmer, and it would be Minnie Maude’s domain, if she accepted the position.

  ‘Please sit down,’ Charlotte invited them. ‘Would you like tea?’ It was a rhetorical question. One made tea automatically.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Gracie said instantly.

  ‘You will not!’ Charlotte told her. ‘You don’t work here, you are my guest.’ Then as she saw the startled look on Gracie’s face. ‘Please,’ she added.

  Gracie sat down suddenly, looking awkward.

  Charlotte set about making the tea. She had no cake to offer, but she cut lacy-thin slices of bread and butter, and there was fine-sliced cucumber and hard-boiled egg. Of course there was also jam, although it was a little early in the afternoon for anything so sweet.

  ‘Gracie tells me that you have known each other for a very long time,’ Charlotte said as she worked.

  ‘Yes, ma’am, since I were eight,’ Minnie Maude replied. ‘She ’elped me when me uncle Alf were killed, an’ Charlie got stole.’ She drew in her breath as if to say something more, and then changed her mind.

  Charlotte had her back to the table, hiding her face and her smile. She imagined that Gracie had schooled Minnie Maude well in not saying too much, not offering what was not asked for.

  ‘Did she also explain that my husband is in Special Branch?’ she asked. ‘Which is a sort of police, but dealing with people who are trying to cause war and trouble of one sort or another to the whole country.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. She said as ’e were the best detective in all England,’ Minnie Maude replied. There was a warmth of admiration in her voice already.

  Charlotte brought the plate of bread and butter over, and set it on the table.

  ‘He is very good,’ she agreed. ‘But that might be a slight exaggeration. At the moment he has had to go abroad on a case, unexpectedly. My previous maid left without any notice, because she misunderstood something that happened, and felt she could not stay. I have to leave tomorrow morning very early, because of another problem that has arisen.’ It sounded peculiar, even to her own ears.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Minnie Maude nodded seriously. ‘A very important gentleman, as Gracie speaks very ’ighly of too. She said as someone is blaming ’im fer summink as ’e didn’t do, an’ you’re going to ’elp ’im, ’cos it’s the right thing ter do.’

  Charlotte relaxed a little. ‘Exactly. I’m afraid we are a household of unexpected events, at times. But you will be in no danger at all. However, your job will involve considerable responsibility, because although I am here most of the time, I am not always.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I bin in service before, but the lady I were with passed on, an’ I in’t found a new place yet. But Gracie said as she’ll come by every day, just ter make certain as everything’s all right, like.’ Minnie Maude’s face was a little tense, her eyes never leaving Charlotte’s face.

  Charlotte looked at Gracie, and saw the confidence in her eyes, then, because she was sitting at the table sideways to her, the small hands knotted, knuckles white, in her lap. She made her decision.

  ‘Then, Minnie Maude, I would be very happy to engage you in the position of housemaid, starting immediately. I apologise for the urgency of the situation, and you will be compensated for the inconvenience by a double salary for the first month, to reflect also the fact that you will be alone at the beginning, which is always the most difficult time in a new place.’

  Minnie Maude gulped. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘After tea I shall introduce you to Jemima and Daniel. They are normally well-behaved, and the fact that you are a friend of Gracie’s will endear you to them from the beginning. Jemima knows where most things are. If you ask her, she will be happy to help you. In fact, she will probably take a pride in it, but do not allow her to be cheeky. And that goes for Daniel as well. He will probably try your patience, simply to test you. Please do not let him get away with too much.’

  The kettle was boiling and she made the tea, bringing it over to the table to brew. While they were waiting she explained some of the other household arrangements, and where different things were kept.

  ‘I shall leave you a list of the tradesmen we use, and what they should charge you, although I dare say you are familiar with prices. But they might take advantage, if they think you don’t know.’ She went on to tell her of the dishes Daniel and Jemima liked best, and the vegetables they were likely to refuse if they thought they could get away with it. ‘And rice pudding,’ she finished. ‘That is a treat, not more than twice a week.’

  ‘Wi’ nutmeg on the top?’ Minnie Maude asked.

  Charlotte glanced at Gracie, then smiled, the ease running through her like a warmth inside. ‘Exactly. I think this is going to work very well.’

  Chapter Four

  Gracie and Minnie Maude returned early in the evening, accompanied by Tellman, who carried Minnie Maude’s luggage. He took it up to the room that not long ago had been Gracie’s, then excused himself to take Gracie home. Minnie Maude began to unpack her belongings and settle in, helped by Jemima, and watched from a respectful distance by Daniel. Clothes were women’s business.

  Once she had made certain that all was well, Charlotte telephoned Great-aunt Vespasia. Immensely relieved to find her at home, she asked if she might visit her.

  ‘You sound very serious,’ Vespasia’s voice came across the rather crackly wire.

  Charlotte gripped the instrument more tightly in her hand. ‘I am. I have a great deal to tell you, and some advice to seek. But I would much prefer to
tell you in person rather than this way. In fact, some of it is most confidential.’

  ‘Then you had better come to see me,’Vespasia replied. ‘I shall send my carriage for you. Are you ready now? We shall have supper. I was going to have Welsh rarebit on toast, with a little very good Hock I have, and then apple flan and cream. Apples at this time of year are not fit for anything except cooking.’

  ‘I would love it,’ Charlotte accepted. ‘I shall just make certain that my new maid is thoroughly settled and aware of what to cook for Daniel and Jemima, then I shall be ready.’

  ‘I thought you had had her since Gracie’s wedding,’ Vespasia remarked. ‘Is she still not able to decide what to prepare?’

  ‘Mrs Waterman gave notice last night and left this morning,’ Charlotte explained. ‘Gracie found me someone she has known for years, but the poor girl has only just arrived. In fact, she is still unpacking.’

  ‘Charlotte?’ Now Vespasia sounded worried. ‘Has something happened that is serious?’

  ‘Yes. Oh. . we are all alive and well, but yes, it is serious, and I am in some concern as to whether the course of action I plan is wise or not.’

  ‘And you are going to ask my advice? It must be serious indeed if you are willing to listen to someone else.’ Vespasia was vaguely mocking, but the anxiety all but overwhelmed her.

  ‘I’m not,’ Charlotte told her. ‘I have already given my word.’ She realised how final that sounded, and felt the chill rise inside her.

  ‘I shall dispatch my coachman immediately,’ Vespasia responded. ‘If Gracie recommends this new person then she will be good.You had better wear a cape. The evening has turned somewhat cool.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I will,’ Charlotte agreed, then she said goodbye, and replaced the receiver on its hook.