Two for Sorrow

to say that, and of course she was right. She was right about a lot of things, actually.’

‘Such as?’

‘Such as making the most of your chances and standing on your own two feet. I don’t think she meant that as a criticism, although she’d have been justified—let’s face it, I live entirely on a monthly allowance which is almost offensively generous. But she was just being honest. I suppose that’s what got her killed, is it?’

‘Quite possibly. We don’t know yet, but we will find out and what you’ve just told me helps.’

‘Does it?’ she asked. ‘Well, I’m glad, because it doesn’t help me. You know, sometimes it feels as though every bright thing in this world is snuffed out as soon as it begins to flourish.’ She looked directly at him for the first time, and he was struck by how vulnerable she seemed. ‘Most of us suspect that, but we spend our time trying to convince ourselves otherwise; in your job, you must know it to be true. I don’t know how you do it.’

He was tempted to tell her that neither did he, but such an admission was hardly appropriate. Instead, he stood up to go. ‘I’m sorry about what’s happened,’ he said quietly. ‘To Marjorie, and to Elizabeth.’

She raised her glass sadly, and he left her to it. ‘Looks like Miss Bannerman was right, then,’ Fallowfield said when he was back in the foyer. ‘Marjorie found out too much for her own good. Do you want to postpone Miss Size and go straight back to the Yard to see Baker?’

Penrose thought about it. ‘No, she’ll have a tight schedule and it’ll take Waddingham and Merrifield a while to get over to Campbell Road and back. We’ll stick to what we said, but don’t hang about.’

He was on his way out the door when Fallowfield called him back. ‘I’ve just remembered, Sir—it’s something Miss Tey said.’ Penrose looked at him curiously. ‘It was the other day,’ Fallowfield continued guiltily, trying to ignore his inspector’s raised eyebrow. ‘I bumped into her and she happened to say that she was interested in Sach and Walters—so we had a chat about it.’

‘Oh yes? You never mentioned it, Bill.’

‘No, Sir—you were too busy. Anyway, I might be wrong, but I’m sure she said that one of the women who gave evidence at the trial was called Edwards.’

‘Edwards? As in Maria Baker’s family?’ Penrose was suddenly serious.

‘Yes. This Edwards woman lived in the house. It was her evidence that sealed Sach’s fate, apparently. You’ve just got time to talk to Miss Tey if she’s here,’ Fallowfield added, trying not to look too smug. ‘She might not be Miss bloody Marple, Sir, but she’s got a lot of notes.’

Penrose smiled, and went to reception to ask where he might find Josephine.

Chapter Ten

I sat in the car coming home this afternoon and wanted you so much that I stopped breathing. Are your eyes blue or grey, or grey-blue? Grey, aren’t they? Perhaps I should never see you again. Perhaps it will take not one, but a hundred and one years to get over you. It’s odd, this vivid physical realisation of someone whose body one has never known, and amusing to be scunnered at every physical approach to a new person by a love months old. You are like a ghost, my dear, coming between me and every other human being, but I’ll lay you yet—in the accepted sense of the word. And London is lovelier when you are in it.

Josephine put the pages of Marta’s diary down for a moment and walked over to the window. The snow in Cavendish Square was looking a little the worse for wear now, having been trampled underfoot by a procession of excited shop workers taking full advantage of their lunch hours, but at her level it was still fresh and magical, settling peacefully on the branches of the trees and, across to her left, providing a striking contrast to one of the city’s finer bronzes. The sculpture was of a mother and child, and Josephine had found herself admiring it more on this visit than she ever had before; the stark, tender intensity of the bond between its figures resonated poignantly with the book she was writing.

For the moment, though, her work had been all but forgotten. The narrow bed was covered in a sea of blue paper, and she sat back down amongst it, curled her feet under her, and began to read again; had this been a book, she would have been fascinated by emotions so eloquently and intimately described; as it was, her confusion at being the object of them destroyed any pleasure in the writing.

I am very happy. Last night, I dreamt that we kissed. This is the first time I have dreamed of you. I have not allowed my imaginings to run riot; I have taken nothing from you in my thoughts. But last night, just after I went to sleep, you were there. You moved towards me and I knew, surprisingly, that you would kiss me. I lay looking at you and you took my face in your hands and kissed me. And then I awoke and heard the clock strike in the darkness. This morning, I know more about you than all your books and spoken words have taught me, and if you ask how one dreamed kiss could have shown me this, I cannot answer.

A knock at the door pulled her sharply back from Marta’s world, and she looked up impatiently. ‘Come in,’ she said, and then: ‘Archie! What on earth are you doing here? Why didn’t you telephone?’

‘Don’t take this personally, but I didn’t really come here to see you.’

‘No?’ She smiled at him, and started to gather up the pages. ‘Well, you certainly know how to humble a girl.’

‘Sorry, but I’m here to work and there are a couple of things that you might be able to help me with. Is this a bad time?’

‘Of course not. I was just reading a letter from a friend.’

‘Obviously one you haven’t seen for a while.’

She looked at him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing. It just looks like there’s a lot of news to catch up on.’ He looked curiously at her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. I wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.’ As she looked around for the envelope, he picked it up from the floor and handed it to her. ‘It’s been a bit of a morning. Shall we go downstairs and have some coffee? You probably don’t want to be surrounded by this mess.’

‘I don’t mind if you don’t.’ He pointed to the desk, which was covered in her notes for the new book. ‘It’s actually this mess that interests me. I need some information about the Sach and Walters case.’

‘Do you?’ she asked, surprised. ‘Why? What’s happened?’

Briefly, Archie summarised the events of the morning for her. ‘Good God, how awful,’ she said when he’d finished. ‘How are Ronnie and Lettice?’

‘Shaken and devastated, but refusing to admit quite how badly it’s affected them. They’re moving in downstairs as we speak.’

‘In here?’

‘Yes. Obviously the workroom’s out of bounds so they’ve talked Celia Bannerman into letting them prepare for the gala on the premises.’

‘I’m surprised it’s still going ahead.’

‘Well, the first thought was to cancel it, but I think they feel they owe it to Marjorie. There was much talk about keeping up the morale of the rest of the staff, but the same applies to them. At least if they’re working, they won’t dwell on it too much.’

‘I suppose so. I’ll go down and see them in a minute. But first tell me what you need to know.’ She picked up a sheaf of papers from the desk. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been living with these people, and I know there’s only thirty years between us, but it seemed so much longer. They felt so safe, so …’

‘So dead?’

‘Yes, I suppose that’s exactly what I mean. You really think Marjorie’s mother might be the Edwards who lived with the Sachs?’

‘It seems too big a coincidence otherwise. Tell me what you know about her.’

‘I’ve got all the notes from the newspaper reports of the case, but it’s probably quickest if you read this,’ she said, removing the most recent chapter from the rest of the manuscript. ‘Everything she tells the police in there is taken directly from the evidence she gave at the trial. I’ve moved it forward to bring her into the story earlier, but it’s pretty much verbatim. You’ll see how crucial her statement was to Sach’s conviction.’