circumstances and people. He was just what she needed. And he was willing.
But was it fair to draw Billy into her work? If she thought that Vincent's death was questionable, was it right to involve Billy? Then again, he would not be at The Retreat for long. And they would be in daily contact. She had promised Maurice that as soon as she had gathered enough information, she would refer her findings to the authorities--if what she found required it.
Maisie knew that her curiosity was drawing both Billy and herself deeper into the mystery of Vincent. And even as she drove she closed her eyes briefly and prayed for the confidence and courage to face whatever was hidden in the darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Maisie parked the motorcar outside the dower house and led Billy into Maurice Blanche's home, to introduce her old teacher to her new assistant, and to have lunch together before she and Billy proceeded to The Retreat.
They talked about The Retreat, and Billy added weight to Maisie's earlier deliberations about the naming of this place where the wounded of a war over ten years past still sought refuge.
'O' course, it might not be just The Retreat, you know, as in gettin' away from it all into shelter. There's 'The Retreat,' in't there? You know, the bugle call at sunset. S'pose you'd 'ave to be an army man to know that, eh? Like 'retreating from a position' as well. That's what we should've done many a time--would've saved a few lives, and that's a fact.'
Maisie set down her knife and fork and nodded thoughtfully.
The Retreat, the ultimate play on words to describe a place for the wounded. But what happened if someone wanted to retreat, as it were, from The Retreat?
'Maisie, while you are visiting your father, before you and Mr. Beale--or perhaps I should say 'Dobbs' to get him used to the name--anyway, before you depart for The Retreat, I will walk with Mr. Beale in the meadow, just beyond the orchard.'
Maisie knew that this was not a chance suggestion, and watched the two men walk toward the meadow, heads together in conversation, the younger man ever so slightly ready to steady the older man lest he falter. If only he knew, she thought, how much the old man feared the faltering of the younger.
As soon as they returned, Maisie took Billy to The Retreat, but before entering, she drove around the perimeter of the estate and parked under the shade of a beech tree.
'It's a retreat all right, innit, Miss? Pity they don't allow visitors for the first month. Wonder what they'll say when I tell them I'm out after two weeks? Prob'ly be a bit upset with me, eh, Miss?'
Billy surveyed the landscape, the fencing, the road, and the distances between landmarks.
'Look, 'ere's what I think. No point trying to get all fancy here, rigging up lines to, y'know, communicate. Why don't I just meet you at the same time every evening, by that bit of fence there, and tell you what I know.'
'Well, Billy, it seemed as if we had a good plan, for your safety, that is.'
'Don't you worry about me. From what you've said, I don't think I'm that important to the likes of them. I'm just your average bread and butter, aren't I? No big legacies being signed over or anything.'
Billy smiled at Maisie and pointed toward the fields between the large house in the distance, and the road.
'Tell you the truth, looking at this landscape now, it's best if we don't mess around with telephone lines coming too near the 'ouse. Draw more attention. No one's goin' to question an old soldier what wants to go off by 'imself for a jaunt of an evenin'. But they might question an old sapper fiddling around with a telephone line in the dark. And you know, Miss, I might be good at that sort of thing, but I never did say I was invisible. And I can't run like I used to, not with the leg 'ere.' Billy slapped the side of his leg for emphasis. 'But 'ere's what I can do now. I can rig up a line to that telephone box we just passed back there, on the corner as you leave the 'amlet back there. I 'ad a quick look as we drove by--not that I 'ad much time, what with the speed and all--'
Maisie grimaced at Billy, who continued. 'It's one of them new ones, a Kiosk Number Four, I think. They 'ave em in places where there ain't no post office--did y'see? It's got a stamp machine on the back, and a pillar-box for letters. Sort of all purpose--mind you, me mate what works on the things says that the stamps get soggy when it rains, and then they all stick together and make a right old mess. So, anyway, getting' back to me and the old lines 'ere, if I need to get 'old of you urgent, like, or if I'm in an 'urry to get out of 'ere, I can always jump through this fence--well, sort of jump, what wiv the leg and all--and use the box and line what I rig up to connect with the outside line at that box up the road. D'you see what I mean, Miss? Then I'll run like a nutter, bad leg an' all!'
Maisie laughed nervously. 'Right you are, Billy, I think I follow you. It sounds like a good idea.'
Billy opened the car door, pulled himself out of the low seat, and walked around to the luggage compartment. He carefully took out two large old canvas kit bags and placed them on the ground. Taking out spools of cable, 'small, so's I can work with them on me own,' Billy walked over to the ditch at the base of the perimeter fence.
Moving aside grasses and wildflowers growing innocently at the side of the road, Billy began to unwind the cable into the ditch, moving away from Maisie, who remained in the car. It was a quiet thoroughfare, so they had little to fear from passing traffic, but nevertheless, country folk were apt to be inquisitive about two strangers lingering on the road. Especially if one were seen unraveling cable.
Maisie got out of the car and walked over to the fence, looking out over the land belonging to The Retreat. The perimeter fence, six feet tall and topped with barbed wire, would merge into a stone wall just half a mile along in the opposite direction to the line being laid out by Billy. The main gate was situated another half mile away from the beginning of the wall. Eventually Billy returned.
'Nicely done, and quick too. Managed to save meself some work by using the bottom wire of this 'ere fence.' Billy pulled back the grass to point to the wire in question. 'I hear that's what they've done over there in America, y'know--used the fences on farms to make connections between places, like.' Billy pushed back his cap, and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.'Stroke of luck it bein' there--the telephone--see more of them in the towns, don't you? S'pose it's used by them what live in the terraced cottages in the 'amlet. I tell you, no one will see that line, mark my words.'
Billy caught his breath, and for the first time Maisie heard the wheezing that revealed gas-damaged lungs. 'You shouldn't be running like that, Billy.'
