Black Ship by Carola Dunn Page B

to the Hampstead house to “ginger up” cleaners and workmen, as he put it. Daisy didn’t tell Alec that when she dropped in to see how things were going, Lambert was generally standing at a window with borrowed binoculars, watching the doings of the next-door neighbours.
    Daisy wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but she was pretty sure he hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t have hidden his subsequent excitement from her.
    Be that as it might, the refurbishment was completed in record time. The house was light and bright. Bel loved her new bedroom, three times the size of the one she had occupied since the twins’ arrival.
    The very morning after she came home, Lambert returnedfrom the embassy with his passport and papers, and took his leave.
    His gratitude for the Fletchers’ hospitality was so heartfelt that Daisy began to feel quite mean for having scoffed at him and resented his intrusion into their lives.
    “You’ve been a great help,” she said. “I hope you’ll come back to say good-bye before you leave England.”
    He cast a furtive look behind him and whispered, “You may see me around, Mrs. Fletcher. If you do, please pretend you don’t know me. Don’t speak to me, and don’t tell anyone. Except Mr. Fletcher, of course.”
    She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. He was so keen to be a hero out of Anthony Hope’s romances, or John Buchan’s, or the American equivalent, and he just wasn’t cut out for the role. “I won’t,” she promised.
    He stood on the threshold for a moment, scanning his surroundings before he ventured forth. As he went down the steps, Daisy saw him turn up his coat collar and pull down his hat.
    She told Alec when he turned up in the middle of the afternoon and announced that he was taking three days off while Belinda was at home. To her surprise, her news made his dark brows lower in a frown.
    “What’s the matter, darling? Aren’t you glad he’s gone at last?”
    “Naturally. I just hope he’s not going to cause any trouble.”
    “What kind of trouble?”
    “The Americans are pushing us to help them enforce their stupid law. It started last year with extending territorial waters from three to twelve miles. Well, the government approved that treaty for our own reasons, and a lot of grief it’s caused already. They’ve seized a number of British-registered ships, some actually outside the new limit, when they’ve caught them off-loading alcohol, or even just with alcohol aboard. Now they’re sending agents over here to investigate the shippers. The last thing we need is trigger-happy idiots like Lambert wandering about.”
    “Customs took away his gun, remember?”
    “Thank heaven for small mercies! Let’s forget about him, for the present at least. No doubt he’ll turn up again sooner or later, like a bad penny. Where’s Bel?”
    “She went with Mrs. Gilpin and Bertha…. Don’t look blank, darling. Bertha’s our new nursery maid. They’ve taken the babies and Nana for a walk on the Heath. It’s such a beautiful day, let’s go to meet them.”
    “Right-oh. Just let me get changed.”
    A two-minute walk took them to the edge of the Heath, eight hundred acres of woodland and meadow practically on their doorstep. From their high position, on this clear October afternoon, they could see the glint of the sun’s slanting rays on the Crystal Palace, far off beyond St. Paul’s. At the foot of the hill, a large pond gleamed between leafless trees.
    Quite a number of people were taking advantage of the weather: boys kicking balls, well-wrapped pensioners chatting on benches, dog walkers, pram pushers, and, combining the last two, a small group coming up the slope towards Daisy and Alec.
    Nana was first to spot them. Off her lead, she came bounding up to them, tail gyrating wildly. Behind her, at a snail’s pace, came Belinda, bent double with Oliver clutching her forefingers and staggering along on his own two feet. Next was Bertha, a plump, toothy girl with a