join you?"
Well used to this little ritual, Elizabeth said absently, "By all means, Martin."
"Thank you, madam. Much obliged, I'm sure." With great deliberation, Martin seated himself at the table. "I was wondering, madam, what plans we have for tonight."
With effort, Elizabeth dragged her mind back to the immediate present. "Tonight?"
"Yes, madam. I assume we shall be seeking shelter, in the event the Germans may return to bomb us again."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Martin. I forgot you didn't know. There was no bomb. The fire and explosion at the factory was an accident." Or so the fire department was saying. Something slipped into Elizabeth's mind, but was gone again before she could grasp it.
Martin looked disappointed. "No bomb?"
"No, Martin. No bomb."
"You mean all that excitement last night was over nothing?"
"I'd hardly call it nothing. After all, two people died in that fire." She remembered again the shock she felt when George had told her Douglas McNally had died. His words came back so clearly.
She sat up straight and banged her fist on the table.
Martin rose an inch off his chair with a little shriek. "What the devil was that?"
Violet spun around from the sink and stared at her. "Lizzie? Are you all right?"
"I'm quite all right," Elizabeth assured them. "I've just remembered something, that's all. Something important." She glanced at the clock. "I won't have time to wait for lunch, Violet. I have to go to North Horsham this afternoon. I must leave right away." She started to get up from the table, forcing Martin to struggle to his feet.
Violet pushed her fists into her bony hips. "Elizabeth Hartleigh Compton! You know better than that. You've already missed one meal. The soup's about ready. You can at least sit down and eat it."
"I'm sorry, Violet. This won't wait. I'll be back as quickly as I can. I'll take one of those apples to eat on the way."
"You'll be ill if you don't eat," Violet grumbled, handing over an apple.
Elizabeth headed for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You'd better be back before it gets dark," Violet reminded her. "You can't ride that motorcycle with lights after blackout, and you won't be able to see without them."
"That's why I need to go now." Elizabeth let the door swing closed behind her and hurried up the steps to the front door. It would take her the best part of an hour to getto North Horsham on her motorcycle. She would have to be back by half-past four to beat the blackout. That gave her plenty of time to find Dave Meadows and talk to him. It would have been far quicker to ring him on the telephone, but from past experience she'd found that she got more information from people when talking to them face to face. Watching a person's expressions often told her more than their words.
She couldn't imagine how she could have missed the significance of George's words last night. Then again, she'd been woken up from a deep sleep. Her mind had been hazy, and the shock of hearing the news of McNally's death had made everything else insignificant at the time.
But these particular words had stuck in the back of her mind.
Locked inside the office, they were
. It seemed an odd thing to her, that Douglas McNally would lock himself and the charlady inside his office. It could mean nothing, of course, but under the circumstances, it was enough to merit a conversation with the fire chief.
She dragged her reefer coat from its peg on the hallstand and thrust her arms into the sleeves. Peering into the mirror, she wound a bright red knitted scarf around her head and tucked the ends into her coat to secure it. She looked rather like a peasant, she reflected, but it was far too cold to wear a hat on a long ride. She could have done with a ride in Earl's Jeep.
That would have been just as cold, she reminded herself as she ran down the steps and into the courtyard. Except with Earl at her side, she probably wouldn't have noticed. Though it was just as well he wasn't there to see her
Well used to this little ritual, Elizabeth said absently, "By all means, Martin."
"Thank you, madam. Much obliged, I'm sure." With great deliberation, Martin seated himself at the table. "I was wondering, madam, what plans we have for tonight."
With effort, Elizabeth dragged her mind back to the immediate present. "Tonight?"
"Yes, madam. I assume we shall be seeking shelter, in the event the Germans may return to bomb us again."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Martin. I forgot you didn't know. There was no bomb. The fire and explosion at the factory was an accident." Or so the fire department was saying. Something slipped into Elizabeth's mind, but was gone again before she could grasp it.
Martin looked disappointed. "No bomb?"
"No, Martin. No bomb."
"You mean all that excitement last night was over nothing?"
"I'd hardly call it nothing. After all, two people died in that fire." She remembered again the shock she felt when George had told her Douglas McNally had died. His words came back so clearly.
She sat up straight and banged her fist on the table.
Martin rose an inch off his chair with a little shriek. "What the devil was that?"
Violet spun around from the sink and stared at her. "Lizzie? Are you all right?"
"I'm quite all right," Elizabeth assured them. "I've just remembered something, that's all. Something important." She glanced at the clock. "I won't have time to wait for lunch, Violet. I have to go to North Horsham this afternoon. I must leave right away." She started to get up from the table, forcing Martin to struggle to his feet.
Violet pushed her fists into her bony hips. "Elizabeth Hartleigh Compton! You know better than that. You've already missed one meal. The soup's about ready. You can at least sit down and eat it."
"I'm sorry, Violet. This won't wait. I'll be back as quickly as I can. I'll take one of those apples to eat on the way."
"You'll be ill if you don't eat," Violet grumbled, handing over an apple.
Elizabeth headed for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You'd better be back before it gets dark," Violet reminded her. "You can't ride that motorcycle with lights after blackout, and you won't be able to see without them."
"That's why I need to go now." Elizabeth let the door swing closed behind her and hurried up the steps to the front door. It would take her the best part of an hour to getto North Horsham on her motorcycle. She would have to be back by half-past four to beat the blackout. That gave her plenty of time to find Dave Meadows and talk to him. It would have been far quicker to ring him on the telephone, but from past experience she'd found that she got more information from people when talking to them face to face. Watching a person's expressions often told her more than their words.
She couldn't imagine how she could have missed the significance of George's words last night. Then again, she'd been woken up from a deep sleep. Her mind had been hazy, and the shock of hearing the news of McNally's death had made everything else insignificant at the time.
But these particular words had stuck in the back of her mind.
Locked inside the office, they were
. It seemed an odd thing to her, that Douglas McNally would lock himself and the charlady inside his office. It could mean nothing, of course, but under the circumstances, it was enough to merit a conversation with the fire chief.
She dragged her reefer coat from its peg on the hallstand and thrust her arms into the sleeves. Peering into the mirror, she wound a bright red knitted scarf around her head and tucked the ends into her coat to secure it. She looked rather like a peasant, she reflected, but it was far too cold to wear a hat on a long ride. She could have done with a ride in Earl's Jeep.
That would have been just as cold, she reminded herself as she ran down the steps and into the courtyard. Except with Earl at her side, she probably wouldn't have noticed. Though it was just as well he wasn't there to see her
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