waiter, just stood there leaning against the wall.
The young girl shrugged, and turned away. “Nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Well, you’d better bleeding buck up.” Gertie gave her a little push to get her going. “We’ve still got four more tables to clear and it’s getting late.”
“I don’t feel like hurrying.”
“What’s the matter? Samuel giving you bloody trouble again?”
“He didn’t come to the pantomime and he promised me he would.”
Gertie sighed. “Maybe he had a job to do.” She stacked dinner plates one on top of the other like a pack of cards. “Here, take these. I’ll bring the rest.”
Pansy looked about ready to cry. “I think he’s gone off me.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“What if he tells me he doesn’t want to go out with me anymore?”
“Well, at least you’ll know.” Gertie followed her to the dumbwaiter, her tray loaded with glasses, plates, and cutlery. She’d know, too, once she talked to Dan. She’d know whether or not she could still dream about a life with him, or if once more she would be left out in the cold, facing a lonely and miserable future.
By the time she got down to the kitchen, she was sure she was going to be sick. She hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning, yet the thought of putting food in her stomach made her heave.
She had to force herself to push the kitchen door open. The maids were busy at the sink, halfway through washing the piles of dishes on the counter. Michel had disappeared, and Mrs. Chubb had already left for her afternoon nap.
Gertie had no idea where Pansy had gone, though she suspected it was in search of Samuel. She sent up another quick prayer that her friend wouldn’t have to spend Christmas with a broken heart. And that she and the twins wouldn’t, either.
Of Dan there was no sign, and she felt relieved that she had a moment or two to try and calm down. She thought about sneaking into the pantry for a sip of Michel’s brandy. While she was still thinking about it, however, a pounding on the back door announced Dan’s arrival at last. Her stomach took a nosedive, and she hurried to open the door, ignoring the giggles and sly glances from the maids at the sink.
“Sorry I’m late, luv!” Dan dragged off his cap and stepped inside the kitchen. “I got caught up with some paperwork before I left.” He bent forward to kiss her but she stepped back, leaving him poked forward like a chicken searching for food.
Looking surprised, he straightened.
Gertie nodded her head at the maids, who were still stealing glances over their shoulders. “I need to talk to you. In private.”
He studied her, his face creased in concern. “What’s the matter, luv? Not another…” He hesitated, glanced at the maids, then finished lamely, “you know what?”
She frowned, too upset to work out what he meant. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“What, outside? It’s cold out there and it’s starting to rain.”
“We’ll go to the wine cellar.” She grabbed his sleeve. “Come on.”
He followed her, silent and obviously puzzled, as she marched across the yard, heedless of the cold rain spattering across her shoulders and head.
Reaching the door, she fished for the key that she’d dropped into her pocket earlier. The door swung open, and the familiar musty smell greeted her as she stepped inside.
Feeling around in the dark, she found the oil lamp hanging on the wall. She took it down and lit it with the matches she’d brought with her, then held it up to light the way down the stairs.
She heard Dan close the door behind them, shutting them inside the damp, dark cellar. Shivering, she wished she’d stopped for her shawl on the way out.
Reaching the floor below, she hung the lamp on the wall. It swung gently back and forth, sending shadows leaping across the wall.
Dan stepped down beside her, and pulled off his coat. “Here, put this around you before you freeze to death.”
Hugging the warm wool coat around her, she fought back tears. She never cried. Well, hardly ever. This was one time when she was determined not to let the tears fall.
“Now,” Dan said, leaning his shoulders against the wall behind him. “What’s all this about?”
From the far end of the cellar came the echo of voices from the card rooms. At one time, when gambling had been illegal in the Pennyfoot Hotel, the rooms had been hidden below the floor in a tunnel dug by smugglers long ago.
Now that the Pennyfoot had been turned into a country club, the card games were licensed, and the rooms had been opened up. The floor above them had been removed, so they were in a sort of pit. The guests loved the atmosphere, which still bore an air of decadence without the risk of breaking the law.
Even so, Gertie could sense that sinister feeling of something forbidden closing in on her. She turned an unhappy face to look up at Dan. Had he committed murder? Was he the kind, fun-loving fellow she’d fallen in love with, or a hot-tempered coward prepared to let someone else take the blame for his sins?
Dan’s eyes gleamed with the reflection of the flickering flame from the oil lamp. “What is it, Gertie? Have you had enough of me? Are you trying to say good-bye?”
Despite her best efforts, a tear escaped down her cheek. “I don’t know.”
He shifted away from her, as if bracing himself. “What did I do?”
It was hard to swallow, and she took a moment to answer him. “You tell me.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear his voice. She could swear he sounded genuinely confused. Taking a deep breath, she said unsteadily, “You came back to the Pennyfoot the night Ian died.”
The pause that followed terrified her. Dan’s voice sounded strange when he answered her. “Yes, I came to see you.”
“I know, but you came back again later. It must have been after nine o’clock.”
Again the pause. “Yes, it was. I told you, I came back to see you.”
A tiny flicker of hope caught fire. “I didn’t see you.”
“I know.”
Now he sounded cold, and the hope fluttered out. “I don’t understand.”
“Gertie, the first time I came to see you that evening, it was to give you and the twins your Christmas presents. I left them in the motorcar so you could help me carry them in. But you were so upset over Ian I decided it wasn’t a good time. So I came back later. You weren’t there. I went looking for you and you were having some kind of argument in the library with one of the maids. So I gave up. I decided to wait until Christmas Eve in the hopes you’d be in a better mood, and I left.”
She almost choked on a sob of relief. Before she could say anything, however, Dan spoke again, in a harsh voice that frightened her.
“You thought I’d killed Ian.”
“No, I-”
“Am I that hard to trust? Don’t you know me at all? I thought we had an understanding. Obviously I was wrong.”
Now she let the sob out. “I’m sorry, Dan, but when I found out about the fight you had with Ian, and then you lied about having an accident with the motorcar-”
“I did have an accident with the motorcar. It was my fault. I was still fuming about Ian and wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t tell you that or about the fight in case you blamed yourself. I didn’t want to upset you.”
She held out a trembling hand to him. “Dan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Gertie. I might have left something out, but I didn’t lie to you. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I do, but-”
“I think it’s time I left.” He turned and started up the stairs.
“Dan!”
Pausing at the top, he looked back at her. His face was lost in the shadows, but there was no mistaking the
