The Boat House Read online

  ‘Do you think,’ Donald asked, ‘that Neil’s death and Leonora’s disappearance were somehow linked?’

  ‘I can’t figure that out. I can’t find a link yet but there may be one. I promised my folks if there was anything to be found I’d do my darnedest to find it. I’m taking the twins to the zoo tomorrow but the following day I’ll go see Nan. I hope she recognizes me. Nobody is sure of her age, it was always a well guarded secret, but she may be becoming forgetful, to say the least.’ Richard shrugged. ‘If she does know anything that will help me find Leonora – or even just find out what happened to her – it will be a bonus.’

  Judith smiled. ‘It will be a thrill for her to see you again.’

  ‘She last knew me as a troublesome sixteen-year-old, because we haven’t seen each other since she left for England with Leonora and the babies.’ His grin broadened. ‘I wanted to stop calling her Nanny because it sounded so babyish and offered to call her Nan instead but she fought me tooth and nail. She said she was a nanny, not a nan.’

  ‘Who won the argument?’ Donald asked.

  ‘Neither of us. I guess you could say it was a truce. I didn’t call her anything, and she pretended not to notice. But this time I’ll call her Nanny – for old times’ sake!’

  Judith smiled. ‘An amazing reunion, then.’

  ‘You can say that again!’

  SEVEN

  Ten minutes before they closed for the day Judith broke the news to her cousin that she was expecting a child.

  ‘A child?’ He stared at her. ‘You mean you’ll be leaving me? How on earth will I manage without you?’

  She gave him a frosty look. ‘Is that the best you can do, Donald? I tell you the most exciting thing of my life and all you can say . . .’

  ‘Judith! Oh my God!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘What a selfish brute I am. Please forgive me.’

  ‘Well, I won’t! Selfish, inconsiderate, insensitive . . .’ She sighed theatrically. ‘I tell you you’re going to be an uncle and all you can think of is . . .’

  ‘An uncle!’

  Suspiciously she narrowed her eyes. ‘So, Donald, you have one last chance to put things right.’

  He adopted an expression of exaggerated delight. ‘Dear Judith, what extraordinary news. You are expecting a child! Wonderful!’

  ‘Not convincing, Donald!’ she told him crossly. ‘This is me, about to become a mother. Your cousin and business partner.’

  ‘Secretary!’ His mouth twitched.

  ‘Business partner! Donald, you have to be impressed.’ She looked at him imploringly.

  At last he grinned and moved close to give her a congratulatory kiss. ‘Congratulations, my dearest cousin, friend, confidante – and business partner. You are incredible, Judith. Not only do you do my typing, answer my telephone, file my letters, make the coffee and help me with the investigating – you also, in your spare time, manage to produce a child!’

  ‘Oh stop it!’ Exasperated, she laughed.

  ‘No seriously, I’m bowled over. When will you be leaving? No! I’ll put it another way. When is the happy event? Have you told your parents? Do you want a boy or a girl? Tell me everything.’

  ‘It’s due in January, yes, and we’d like a boy.’ She pulled the cover over her typewriter.

  ‘Am I old enough to be an uncle?’

  ‘You’re almost too old! You should be a father by now, Donald. Why don’t you find yourself a nice girl and settle down?’

  ‘A nice girl who can type . . . yes.’ He kept his face straight.

  ‘Donald! You have a one-track mind! There’s more to life than “Donald Watson, Private Investigator” – or there ought to be.’

  ‘Is Tom pleased?’

  ‘Thrilled to bits. We both are.’

  ‘It’s great news, Judith, and it calls for a celebration. Open the door of the cupboard.’

  ‘The cupboard? Why?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  He watched her face as she threw open the door and saw a bottle of champagne nestling in a basket of straw and two champagne flutes. ‘Oh, Donald!’ She turned to him, accusingly. ‘You knew all along! You rotter! Leading me on like that. Who told you? Not Tom?’

  ‘No. You told your mother in confidence and your mother told my mother in confidence . . .’ He collected the bottle, opened it and carefully filled the glasses. ‘I wanted you to tell me in your own time and in your own way.’ He handed her a glass and raised his own. ‘Here’s to you and Tom and your first baby!’ They clinked glasses and sipped, both beaming with pleasure.

  Judith said, ‘But seriously, Donald, you know I wouldn’t leave you for any other reason. I expect to leave in October, so you must try and find a replacement so that we can overlap for a week or two. I want to make sure she is going to be suitable for you.’

  ‘She? I might choose a male secretary.’

  ‘Oh no, Donald! That wouldn’t be at all suitable. You need a woman’s intuition – a woman’s way of looking at things – to complement your own. I’ve thought about it, and when you interview the applicants, you must choose someone with tact and discretion and warmth. Why are you looking at me like that?’

  ‘Are these the traits I lack?’

  ‘Now would I say such a thing? No, but women can sympathize with, say, a woman whose husband is seeing someone else.’ She regarded him earnestly. ‘She could cry all over me but not you. And she needs to have good grammar for the letters and a pleasant telephone manner . . . and lots of patience and be willing to do overtime. Also have an interest in investigative work.’

  Donald drained his glass and waited for hers to be emptied. As he refilled them he said, ‘Why don’t you do the interviews for me, Judith?’

  Her serious expression was instantly replaced by one of intense satisfaction. ‘Oh, Donald, of course I will. I thought you’d never ask!’

  Ida arrived promptly at eight thirty while Georgina was still eating breakfast, and decided that she could eat ‘just a little more’.

  Georgina, fully dressed and looking nervous, said, ‘There are stewed apples, also toast and marmalade. Help yourself while Lorna refreshes the teapot.’

  She was still unsure whether or not it had been a mistake to invite her sister to stay but the thought of the coming confrontation with Richard Preston was making her stomach churn and Ida’s large, noisy presence made Georgina feel slightly less anxious.

  ‘So they’re going to the zoo.’ As usual Ida was straight to the point. ‘I’ve thought about it on the way over, to take my mind off the crowded tram. Lord, what a rabble! Old, young, dogs on leads, cats in baskets, babies in arms, toddlers bawling, couples arguing – and all before eight thirty! I pitied the conductor. I’d have stopped the tram and sent them all packing but that’s public transport for you! Mm! Very good marmalade. Did your cook make it?’

  ‘I bought it at a bring and buy sale, if you must know, but seriously, I do wonder, Ida, if I should let the girls go with him. Suppose he doesn’t bring them back or one of them has an accident? I’d never forgive myself. I feel I owe it to Neil to . . .’

  ‘Now don’t start all that nonsense about Neil. It’s morbid, Georgina. I don’t mean this unkindly but neither he nor Leonora stayed around to care for the girls so you don’t have to apologize to either of them for anything.’ She sipped her tea and pulled a disapproving face. ‘I do wish you’d buy some Earl Grey, Georgina. This is much too strong. All that tannin!’ She added more milk. ‘But as for today, why would Richard want to keep them? How can he look after them at his age? And anyway, I thought he was here to try and find his sister – or find out what happened to her.’

  ‘That’s what he says but . . . would you trust him? If he’s anything like Leonora . . . I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him!’

  ‘You’re prejudiced, dear, that’s all. You must give him a chance. He could take your Marianne to the zoo with him, couldn’t he?’

  ‘Marianne said he suggested that but she wants to write som
e letters so doesn’t wish to go with them. I can hardly insist. She’s a governess, not a nanny.’

  ‘If I were you, dear, I’d let them go. I really don’t believe they’ll come to any harm . . . and you and I can have a little expedition of our own. I’ll take you out to tea in that little tea shop you like and we’ll have cucumber sandwiches and chocolate eclairs!’

  In spite of herself, Georgina smiled. As children, a visit to a tea shop was a rare treat. It was kind of her sister to think of it.

  Ida said, ‘Don’t you think, Georgie, it would be better to give in gracefully than to argue the point and lose? And isn’t it good for the girls to have some more family? You look after them very well but their world is very narrow.’

  ‘But suppose he wants to take them back to America!’

  ‘It would be an adventure for them.’

  ‘An adventure? Are you mad? You know how I feel about a sea crossing, Ida. Their safety cannot be guaranteed, no matter how the ship is built. Just imagine if he had come earlier and taken them back on the Titanic’s maiden voyage! They would all have died.’

  ‘Not everyone died, Georgie. The women and children went into the lifeboats first . . .’

  ‘Not all of them were saved.’

  Ida pursed her lips, exasperated. ‘You are just being stubborn, making that an excuse. A trip to America when they are a little older would be wonderful for them and they might make some friends and then they can come home and write to each other. Pen friends. That’s what they call it. It broadens the mind.’

  ‘You’re on his side, aren’t you?’ Georgina said bitterly. ‘I might have guessed.’

  Ida wagged a finger at her. ‘I’m not taking sides, dear, but I’m worried about the strain you’re under. This faint-ing fit you had yesterday. If you’re not worried I certainly am.’

  ‘That was nothing, Ida!’

  Ida ignored the interruption. ‘And the time will come when the children grow up when they will be less tractable and you’ll be older. They’ll be very demanding and you’ll be exhausted by them. You’ll be glad to hand them over to their other family for a few weeks.’

  ‘It was nothing,’ Georgina repeated. ‘It was just so sudden. I was frightened. Looking back it was just a dizzy spell.’

  ‘It sounds like a heart problem to me and I’m taking you to the doctor. My doctor.’ She held up her hand. ‘It’s no use arguing with me; I’ve already made an appointment for next week and I shall come with you. Do you want to die, Georgina?’

  ‘Die? Certainly not, but . . .’

  ‘Then listen to reason. You cannot let the twins down by neglecting your health.’ She wiped her mouth with her serviette and smiled. ‘Now then, what time is he coming?’

  ‘He’s going to telephone first and . . .’

  ‘How thoughtful of him. Then let’s set to and tell the twins. I’m looking forward to those cucumber sandwiches – and I shall eat two eclairs!’

  ‘Ida!’

  ‘I don’t care, dear. I shall eat whatever I like. I realize life is slipping away. I don’t want to end my life with any regrets. Once or twice recently I’ve treated myself to a glass of sherry before I go to bed.’

  ‘Tut! You’re incorrigible!’ In the face of Ida’s determined enthusiasm, and still exhausted from the previous day’s events, Georgina decided not to argue further about the zoo but, crossing her fingers, she uttered a silent prayer for an uneventful day and a safe return of the twins.

  Meanwhile, in the charity home, Ivy Busby was arguing with Nesta who was unpleasantly surprised by the change in her manner. Gone was the quiet, almost morose woman who kept her thoughts to herself, rarely engaged with the other women and almost never grumbled. Now, since receiving her letter, she had become argumentative, almost demanding.

  ‘How can I wear these clothes?’ she cried indignantly. ‘Tomorrow I have a young man coming to visit me and I will look pathetic! Whatever will he think? Richard grew up to think of me with respect. He will be shocked, Nesta, and I cannot bear to imagine his expression.’

  ‘You don’t look at all pathetic, Miss Busby. Truly you don’t.’

  ‘And I tell you I do!’ She glanced around for confirmation and her gaze rested on Magda Llewellyn. ‘Magda, please tell Nesta that I look pathetic.’

  ‘You do. Yes! So very pathetic!’ Magda, a Polish immigrant, had married a retired English colonel a year before he died and left her penniless. She was knitting a small square, using recycled wool – a square which was destined eventually to join other squares to form a blanket. ‘Most certainly you are looking pathetic. We all are the same. Tragic figures. What are we but the world’s rejections?’

  Nesta, feeling understandably betrayed by this ungrateful utterance, turned on her. ‘Please, Magda. This is a private conversation. Get on with your knitting.’

  ‘Pah! Who wants blanket made of squares?’

  ‘The homeless. It’s in a very good cause.’

  ‘Blankets for people worse off than us?’ Magda tossed her head. ‘I do not care even to be thinking about it. And as for your private conversation, is not so very private after all!’ Magda sniffed. ‘I hear every word.’ She tapped her chest then indicated another inmate, who was bending forward short-sightedly, attempting to do a jigsaw puzzle. ‘And look at Miss Spinks. She listening also to this so very private conversation. She not missing a word.’

  Miss Spinks looked up vaguely. ‘Oh, I am, dear, I am.’ A lifetime of needlework as a dressmaker had ruined her eyesight and robbed her of her way to earn a living. She now spent hours peering at the jigsaw pieces and trying to force them into the wrong gaps.

  Magda pointed a trembling finger. ‘See! Even the cat is listening!’

  As though it understood and was insulted by this slur, the large tortoiseshell cat leaped to its feet and dashed from the room.

  Nesta said, ‘Oh, the poor thing!’

  Annoyed by the distraction, Ivy nevertheless made use of the interruption.

  ‘There you are! Magda agrees that I do look pathetic. I’m not losing my reason. I look in the mirror and what I see depresses me. The figure I see cannot be me!’

  Nesta was at a loss. ‘You mustn’t upset yourself,’ she begged.

  Ivy went on, her voice rising. ‘I am not at all ungrateful for all the Sutton Group has done for me over the past years, but look at this cardigan . . .’

  ‘Green suits you, Miss Busby.’

  ‘I don’t deny that, Nesta, but see the elbow – it is so frayed it is almost a hole . . .’ She poked at it savagely and a small hole appeared. ‘There! What did I say? And this skirt hangs on me like a sack and makes me look as if I’m wasting away! Please, Nesta, ask Mrs Beck-Holmes to arrange for me to have some better clothes just for tomorrow. My first visitor. I must look my best.’

  Nesta sighed with exasperation. ‘But he won’t notice your skirt because you’ll be sitting down and you can keep the frayed sleeve out of sight.’

  ‘Sitting down, you say? Ah, but I might not! I might walk in the garden. Get away from the smell of boiled cabbage and liniment!’

  Magda, thoroughly enjoying her grumbles, sniffed again. ‘Is it a garden we have here or a very large window box? So small it is!’

  Ignoring her, Ivy persevered with her sentence. ‘Walk in the garden with him in hopes of a little privacy. We have things to talk about, you see. Important things. Important questions to answer.’ She glanced triumphantly at her companions. ‘And my young visitor comes from a wealthy American family and . . .’ Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘He might well make a small, or a not so small, donation to the Sutton Group. I shall encourage him to do so if he appears at all impressed by what he sees.’ She resisted the chance to glance at Nesta to see whether or not she had noticed the mention of a donation.

  Nesta said, ‘I’m sure he will be impressed.’

  Ivy sighed loudly. ‘A pathetic old woman – that is what Richard will see.’

  Nesta rolled her eyes but gave in graceful
ly. ‘Well, I shall do as you ask, Miss Busby, and pass on your request.’

  Ivy looked up at her in feigned surprise. ‘You will? Oh what a dear you are. I’m sure they will understand. I am so looking forward to seeing him again.’

  The visit to the zoo went ahead as Richard had hoped it would but only after an ill-tempered argument with the twins’ grandmother, which only ended when she became breathless and Ida warned her about her heart.

  After an initial shyness, Emmie and Edie had relaxed and the animals had proved wonderfully exciting so that by the time they had seen the bears, the tigers, the chimps, the giraffes and elephants, the girls were giddy with excitement and Richard was worn out by their constant questions.

  At ten to five he suggested it was tea time and they gladly agreed. While they waited for the waitress to bring sandwiches and cakes, the bombardment of questions continued.

  ‘Do the giraffes like having those long necks, Uncle Richard? ‘Emmie asked.

  Uncle Richard! He smiled, still trying to get used to the idea that he was an uncle in England, taking his two nieces on a trip to the London Zoo.

  ‘I guess they get used to it,’ he suggested. ‘I guess they are wondering if we like having very short necks.’

  Edie said, ‘We’ve got used to our short necks, haven’t we?’

  ‘I’ve got used to having very small ears,’ Emmie said thoughtfully. ‘I suppose the elephants like their big flappy ears because they can hear lots of things.’

  The waitress arrived with a tray and set out the food. She smiled at Richard. ‘I’ve put three of each cake on the plate so there’ll be no squabbling.’ To the girls she said, ‘You be good for your daddy!’ and gave Richard a wink.

  Emmie said, ‘He’s not our daddy. Our father is dead. He was in a car and it fell over a cliff. Uncle Richard is our new uncle from America.’