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Authors: Anna Jacobs

Elm Tree Road (22 page)

BOOK: Elm Tree Road
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May looked at the floor, then up at her. ‘Why can’t I come with you, then?’

Hugh stepped in to answer that. ‘Because you have to go to school. Our visit to London is only for one day.
If it was for longer, we’d take you, I promise.’

‘It’s still not fair.’

Nell found herself the target of May’s scowls from then on. She tried not to let that bother her, but it did.

Paddington Station seemed so enormous to Nell that she stopped walking to stare round in amazement. It was much bigger than the station in Manchester had been, and the high curved roof was like a giant’s greenhouse, supported on enormous wrought iron columns. The place was full of people, not only travellers, but workmen and railway porters and other people in uniform.

‘They’re enlarging the station,’ Hugh whispered. ‘It’s taking years.’

‘Why are all those people going down the stairs?’

‘On the level below there’s a station on the underground railway system. It’s very easy to get around in London that way.’ He gazed round the station fondly. ‘I’d forgotten how much I love it here in the capital – the bustle, the sense of life.’

‘Yet you gave that up for May.’

His smile was rueful. ‘Only temporarily. And I hadn’t expected it to take this long.’

‘Maybe you’ll have to put your foot down about moving.
Children don’t know enough about the world to make the big decisions in life.’

He looked at her as if she’d said something startling. ‘But she’s grieving.’

‘So am I. But I changed my life so that things wouldn’t remind me of … what I’d lost. It’s been a year now, hasn’t it? It’s up to you to change her life so that she can start to be happy again, somewhere away from all the memories.’

‘You’re very wise.’

‘I don’t feel wise.’

‘As well as pretty.’

She could feel herself blushing. No one had ever made her blush as often as he did. And she loved his soft chuckles of amusement at that.

As they set off walking again, Nell was glad to take his arm and let him guide her through the crowds, something he seemed to do quite easily, while on her own, she’d have kept bumping into people, she was sure. In spite of her present anxiety, she had to smile at the thought of what a country mouse she must seem to Hugh. Until this year, her life had been very narrow and limited.

‘Shall we go straight to the hotel where your sister worked and get that over with?’ he asked. ‘Or would you like to stop somewhere for a cup of tea first?’

Her amusement vanished as if a tap had been turned off. ‘Let’s go straight there. I’d rather get it over with.’

The hotel was one of a terrace of buildings near Kensington High Street. These weren’t small houses like those in the terraces she knew, but large ones, built for rich people, she was sure. They were all four storeys high and all exactly the same.

‘It’s Georgian architecture at its best,’ Hugh explained, seeing her stare. ‘No fuss or frills, just simple, elegant lines.’

The hotel took up one end of the row and looked quietly elegant, as if it knew and was proud of its place in the world.

The door was opened for the group ahead of them by a uniformed commissionaire, who inclined his head. The two ladies were extremely fashionable, one wearing a hobble skirt, draped to emphasise its narrowness around the ankles. They were laughing with their male escorts, full of confidence, from their huge hats decorated with plumes and flowers, to their shiny pointed shoes.

Nell felt as if she shouldn’t even be here, and she would never have dared enter the hotel on her own. Hugh was perfectly at home, just like the other group of people. He stopped to chat to the commissionaire for a moment or two, then drew her inside.

At the reception desk she let him explain why they’d come, then sat beside him on a hard overstuffed sofa to wait for Mrs Tolson.

A young woman crossed the huge foyer, stopped at the reception desk, then came towards them. ‘Mrs Greenhill? The housekeeper sent me to fetch you. Please come this way.’

Hugh stood up. ‘I’ll accompany my friend, if you don’t mind. She’s rather distressed by all this.’

Her sympathetic glance said she was aware of the reason for their visit.

They went up in a lift, the first time Nell had ever been in one. Normally she’d have enjoyed the new experience,
but today she was so desperate to find a clue as to what had happened to her sister that she stood unmoving as the young woman closed an expanding iron door, shutting them into a sort of cage. The lift trundled upwards, clanging and rattling. What if it suddenly broke down and they plummeted down to the basement? She shivered at the thought.

On the third floor they followed a very long corridor with a thick soft carpet to the far end, where there was a door marked
Private
. The area beyond wasn’t nearly as luxurious. A page boy with a jacket full of shining brass buttons and a little cap on his head hurried along in front of them, and a young woman with a pencil stuck in her hair and a thick pile of papers in her hand hurried out of one door and into another.

The office they were ushered into was large and severely tidy. The woman behind the desk matched it. Her
steel-grey
hair was dragged back into an unfashionable bun and spectacles magnified her eyes, giving her a watchful,
owl-like
appearance.

‘I’m Mrs Tolson. Please sit down, Mrs Greenhill.’

‘This is Mr Easton, who’s come with me today.’

‘I’m a friend of the family,’ he put in smoothly.

‘I’m glad Mrs Greenhill has some support at this difficult time. Now, I have all the postcards you sent to your sister.’ She passed across a big envelope. ‘I don’t think Renie received any of them. Could you please check that they’re all there?’

Nell looked at the top postcard. ‘This was the first one I sent.’ She sifted quickly through the pile. ‘They all seem to be here, though I’d have to check my diary too, but there’s
no sign of the letter I sent to tell her about the accident.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘My husband and child were killed in a gas explosion.’

‘I’m sorry to hear about your loss and to bring back the grief.’ Mrs Tolson waited a few seconds, then resumed her gentle questioning. ‘Are you sure your sister didn’t give you any clue that she was thinking of leaving? No, of course she didn’t, or you’d not have kept sending the postcards. What am I thinking of?’

That remark made her seem more human and Nell relaxed a little.

‘I’ve been worrying that your sister might be in trouble, you see. We’d have helped her if she had been, I promise you, though it would have surprised me. She was a hard worker and not the flighty sort. It does happen sometimes, however, that young women are dazzled by London and act foolishly, but she seemed quite … sensible, if a little impetuous and outspoken.’

‘Very impetuous. She sometimes rushed into things. And she often spoke too frankly. I can’t think of any reason why she’d leave suddenly.’

‘Perhaps you’d go through her remaining things and see if that gives you any clues.’ She went across to a cardboard box sitting on a chair to one side. ‘I put everything in here.’

Nell joined her and went through the items, finding mainly worn-out clothes and a couple of tattered books. Nothing really personal, nothing to give her any sort of hint as to why Renie would vanish. There were none of her letters or the one photo Nell had had taken of Sarah by Mrs Garrett. And of course, Renie wasn’t the sort to
keep a diary. ‘If someone had kidnapped her, she’d not have been able to take the rest of her things,’ she said as she stepped back. ‘So she must have gone willingly. I’m baffled too.’

Mrs Tolson sighed. ‘Then there’s nothing else I can do. Would you like to take these things away with you? I can provide you with an old suitcase.’

‘I suppose I might as well. Just in case Renie comes back. You have my address at the farm?’ Nell glanced at Hugh and saw him nod approval of that.

‘Yes. I can contact you there if I hear anything.’

The two of them were quiet as they took the lift down to the foyer.

‘Let’s get a cup of tea and something to eat,’ Hugh said.

‘Not here. It’ll cost a fortune,’ she said automatically.

He laughed. ‘Not quite a fortune. I’m ravenous. Aren’t you?’

‘Not very.’

But when the waitress brought them a selection of dainty sandwiches, he managed to persuade Nell to eat a few, and then to sample the pretty little cakes.

Afterwards they walked slowly to the entrance of the hotel. ‘I don’t think you’re in the mood for sightseeing.’

‘No. I’d rather go straight home, if you don’t mind. Oh no, you wanted to call in at your office, didn’t you?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Of course it does. It’d be foolish not to go when we’re so close.’ She saw him frown. ‘It’ll make no difference to how I feel.’

She was almost as awed by the building Hugh took her
to as she’d been by the hotel. This one had a marble-floored hall from which footsteps echoed up a flight of stairs that went up for four floors. She could see right up the staircase from the hall because it twisted round the walls.

Gold lettering on the door to the right said ‘Cates & Dover Enquiries’ but Hugh went past that, along a corridor with white marble busts at intervals on pedestals. Nell didn’t recognise who they were, except for one, which she thought might be Charles Dickens.

Hugh opened a door on the right at the end of the corridor. ‘This is my office. I’ll leave you in here while I go and see Mr Dover, the senior partner.’

The room was huge, rather chilly because there was no fire in the hearth, but the fire was laid and needed only a match to set it alight. Every surface had been carefully dusted, but the clutter of books on them reminded her of his study in Wiltshire.

When he didn’t return, she went across to the
glass-fronted
bookcase to read the titles and authors on their spines.

The door opened and someone said, ‘Excuse me, madam.’

She swung round to see a lad in a grey suit standing there. ‘I’ve come to light the fire, Mrs Greenhill,’ he said cheerfully, ‘and to ask if you’d like a cup of tea and a biscuit.’

‘Just a cup of tea, please.’

‘Mr Easton will be another half hour at least, so I’m to give you this.’ He held out a book. ‘He thought you’d like something to read and this is the latest by one of his authors. It’s a very exciting story!’

‘Thank you.’

He went across to the fire, struck a match and lit it, waiting a minute to make sure it caught properly. As he went out, he nodded and said politely, ‘Won’t be long.’

She was soon seated comfortably in front of the fire with the book and a tea tray, but couldn’t settle to reading because she was too worried about Renie. Where on earth could her sister be? Why hadn’t she left word?

She heard footsteps and looked up as the door opened.

‘Ah, here she is,’ Hugh said heartily.

Behind the older man’s back, he was looking at her strangely, as if pleading for her to understand. She braced herself for some new shock. But what he said was so unexpected, it took her breath away.

‘Mr Dover, this is my fiancée, Nell Greenhill. Nell, this is the senior partner, Mr Dover.’

Still standing out of sight of his companion, he mouthed
Please help me
, so she took a deep breath and smiled, hoping she’d hidden her astonishment.

‘My dear Miss Greenhill, I’m delighted to meet you.’

‘Mrs Greenhill,’ she corrected automatically, saw him gape and added, ‘I’m a widow.’

‘Oh, I see. Very sad. And so young too. But I’m very happy that this young fellow’s found someone at last. We’d all given up hope of getting him married off. Have you two named a day yet?’

‘Er … no.’

‘We’ve only just got engaged,’ Hugh said, coming across to put his arm round her.

That was true, she thought, and couldn’t help smiling.

Mr Dover looked at her hand, then at Hugh.

‘One of the reasons we’re up in London, sir, is to find her a ring.’

‘Good, good. I hope you won’t wait too long to marry and settle down again. We need you back here, my boy. How is your poor little niece?’

‘Improving slowly. But she still clings to the farm and weeps if I suggest moving to London.’

‘Very sad. But you’ll have to be firm with her now. She’s had enough time to get over the worst and you can’t let a child’s wishes run your career. Shall we say another month?’

‘I’ll do my best.’ Hugh took out his pocket watch. ‘Now, I’m afraid we must leave if we’re to buy that ring.’

‘Jolly good, jolly good.’

When they went outside, Hugh looked at her ruefully. ‘Old Dover and his wife have been trying to marry me off to one or other of their nieces for years. There seem to be dozens of nieces, and very plain girls they are too. He jumped to the conclusion that you were my fiancée and … well, it seemed best to let him believe it, or he’d have been pressing me to go to tea again.’

‘I don’t suppose it matters. Once you go back to work in London, you can tell him we’ve changed our minds.’

‘Mmm. But we might not change our minds.’

She gaped at him.

He smiled, then shook his head as if clearing away some stray thoughts and picked up the suitcase again. ‘We’ll take a taxi to Paddington Station.’

All the way home she alternated between shock at what he’d said and worry about her sister.

What would he do next?

And what would she agree to next? He had a way of making you do what he wanted, in the gentlest possible way, whether it was going for a walk or pretending to get engaged.

He surely couldn’t have meant what he’d said about changing their minds? No, she must have mistaken it. This so-called engagement was just a way of helping him, a convenience. It wasn’t real.

 

It was nine o’clock before they got a still-sulky May to bed, and Nell wasn’t sure whether to rejoin Hugh in the kitchen or go to bed herself. But she felt restless, so she went back down to make them a cup of cocoa, as she did most nights, but she took care to sit opposite him at the table.

‘What are you going to do about your sisters now?’ Hugh asked as he stirred his cocoa.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You need to write to those friends of yours, the minister and his wife. They might have a letter from Renie for you.’

‘Yes, of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘And there’s still your father.’

‘Only as a final resort, and I’m not sure I can face him, even then.’

BOOK: Elm Tree Road
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