‘Put like that, if any others are left, those two each have a target on their back. But quite.’
‘Time then ... Lucy’s return buys us time,’ said Vera, looking out to sea. ‘How much ... is anybody’s guess.’ They were silent for a few moments, then she asked her brother, ‘Are you sure it’s safe for Amanda here?’
‘Of course, she’s had Kyt looking after her. And I’d swear there’s more to Flossie and Clemo Trelawney than meets the eye.’
‘And Pasco?’ queried Vee.
‘I’m not sure. Pasco Flamgoyne is a complicated man. I wonder how much of his I’m-old-and-tired-and-resigned line I buy into. We’ll see ….’
Mike paused too long. Vera looked at him.
‘Something troubles you?’
‘Yes … I think we almost lost Amanda.’
Vee raised her eyebrows.
‘What do you mean?’
‘When she was telling me what happened when she went back to the night of the fire at Growan House … there was something she wouldn’t say. But I have an idea … put yourself in her position. You come almost face to face with someone you knew would one day try to murder you, poison you, leave you disabled … and you have the chance … how many of us would have the … “Cadabraness” … to stay our hand. I believe it was a close call. Amanda is only one part Cadabra to three parts Cardiubarn, and you know their motto?’
‘No. What is it? “Shoot first, think later?”’
‘“Get them before they get you.”’
‘I see,’ replied Vera solemnly. ‘The witch who took The Grimoire?’
‘And the brown-haired man in the hall.’
‘Amanda went into the fire in more than one way then.’
Mike shook his head. ‘Thomas was right. The only purpose I could see was … for Lucy. If I had thought Amanda would be in that position … even for Lucy … I would never have let her —’
‘Ha,’ Vee interrupted him briskly. ‘Like you could have stopped her.’
That broke the sombre mood and made her brother smile.
‘How right you are. I should have more confidence. Amanda’s greatest test yet and she passed it.’
‘Unlikely that it will be the greatest she’ll ever face.’
He put an arm around his sister.
‘True. Either way, now she must go back to Sunken Madley. I have a strong feeling that somehow the witch-clan lands on Bodmin have a connection to that village, and that some part of our answers lie there. Meanwhile, you and Harry, go back to Spain, listen for chatter. Probably better if you don’t come back here for a while.’
‘Very well.’
‘And don’t fear for our queen on the chessboard. She has defenders enough.’
‘What’s Thomas? Her king?’ hazarded Vera.
‘No, the king is peace.’
‘Her bishop then?’
‘I’d say the bishops are Senara and Perran, wouldn’t you?’
Vera grinned. ‘Ah … then Thomas is … her knight.’
‘Without question. But of course, there are two knights. If one is Thomas, then the other ....’
They looked at one another, suddenly brimming with laughter, then spoke in unison:
‘Tempest!’
Chapter 56
A Gift for Thomas
The invitation from The Grange was couched in such terms as to suggest an opportunity for a new resident-to-be to pay his respects at the most influential establishment in the village. This was misleading. Every villager knew that that was not The Grange but was, in fact, The Corner Shop.
Nevertheless, Trelawney was quick to accept, and, like Amanda, was surprised by his reception.
Miss de Havillande only briefly welcomed him, said he would do very well in Sunken Madley and not to take any nonsense. She then announced that she must be about her business and would leave him in the capable hands of her dear Gwendolen. With that, she departed for the grounds.
Having regaled him with tea and Moffat’s homemade shortcake, Miss Armstrong-Witworth invited Trelawney to accompany her, up the grand staircase, to a well-lit but clearly little-used room. Pride of place was taken up by a splendid Victorian, mahogany, partners desk. It was nearly five feet wide and almost three deep, with three drawers on each side of the kneehole. Each drawer had two brass handles and a matching keyhole.
‘What do you think of this, Inspector?’ asked Miss Armstrong-Witworth gently. ‘And no need to be polite if it’s not to your taste.’
‘It’s ....’ Thomas ran his hand over the smooth, gleaming, innately warm surface.
‘It was made around 1840 in a London workshop, you know. So not terribly modern,’ Miss Armstrong-Witworth added a little apologetically. Thomas stood admiring it. ‘The drawers don’t go all of the way in. If you come this side ... do you see? Three small drawers along the top and then these cupboards either side. And this one has a divider. I had the top redone in chartreuse green, as you see. It’s hand-dyed, but if you don’t care for the colour, we can always change it.’
‘No. No, it’s beautiful. All of it. Absolutely stunning.’
Miss Armstrong-Witworth patted the desk fondly.
‘It was my father’s. I don’t use it as I like my own and I couldn’t bear to give it away but someone who would just ... but I know that he would like you to have it, and so would I.’
Thomas was frankly astonished. ‘Me?’
‘You see,’ she explained, ‘it’s called a partners desk, and as you and our dear Amanda are now partners, it seems to fit, wouldn’t you say? And in a sense, it will be going home. So, if it would serve ...?’
‘Serve?’ Thomas repeated, overcome by the understatement. ‘It would ... I never thought ever I’d own anything like this.’
Gwendolen smiled with a mixture of relief and delight in his response.
‘Well, it’s yours. I found one similar on the internet and, I know it is perhaps a little unrefined to mention such things, but it
