The Dead Songbird (The Northminster Mysteries) by Harriet Smart Page B

shall be kept busy by it.”
    “Then perhaps this is not the right time to have taken that house for Laura,” said Sally. “To bring her to Northminster, now, with all this...”
    “No, Sal, you shall not make me reconsider that. My mind is made up,” Giles said.
    “You are sure?”
    “Truly. I am only more convinced of it. It is the right thing to do.”
    “Well, if you think so. But I cannot help but think –”
    “Sal,” Lambert said, “Let it be, for goodness’ sake.”
    “I cannot help thinking you are being swayed by sentiment,” she said.
    “That may be the case – but since when was sentiment such a bad thing?” Lambert said.
    “I am not saying that,” she said. “But it may cloud the judgement on occasion, and this is a business that demands the clearest thinking.”
    “Yes, I know,” said Giles. “But I have to live with my conscience. I cannot consign her to oblivion any longer. It is does not feel right.”
    “You have hardly done that, Giles,” said Lambert.
    “I know, I know – she is well cared for there and doing as well as can be expected, but I do not feel comfortable with it any more. I want her within reach.”
    “But you say she does not know you,” said Sally.
    “She might know me again if she sees me more often. And even if she does not, then at least... well, it has to be better than that place. A real home for her. That is all I am trying to do.”
    Sally sighed and said, “I do not mean to quarrel with you Giles, you know that. I just want to make certain that this is the right thing to do. What if – well, what if she becomes agitated again, as she was before?”
    “Then we will deal with it. And that house is well suited. She will not be able to wander off. She will be watched day and night.”
    “It will be expensive,” said Sally.
    “Perhaps, but what else am I to spend my money on? I don’t have any children to educate, do I?”
    “God may still grant you that, in time. Things change,” said Sally, “in the most surprising ways. You should not be profligate.”
    “This is hardly being profligate,” Lambert said. “What is that worries you so, Sally?”
    There was a long silence and then Sally said, rather quietly, “It is just that... that I find her so difficult. I do not have your faith or your courage, Giles, I have to admit it. I find her a challenge. It is so distressing...” She got up from her chair. “And I know how weak, how un-Christian that must sound, but –”
    “You do not have to do anything,” Giles said. “I do not expect that.”
    “And how could I not? My own sister?” she said, throwing up her hands. “I must!”
    “Sister-in-law,” Giles said. “You owe her nothing. You need have nothing to do with this. I know what you mean. She is disturbing and distressing. I do not expect either of you to feel in any way obligated towards her or that you have to become involved in this. It is my responsibility alone.”
    “If only we had known,” Sally said. “If only we had known that when you married her there was –”
    “It would not have stopped me,” Giles said. “I would have dismissed it as a slander.”
    “Yes, yes, of course,” she said.
    Giles caught her hand and pulled her towards him.
    “It may work. It may not, but I must try. Please do not trouble yourself about her. I can managed everything.”
    She passed her hand across his hair.
    “I will do all I can,” she said. “I just must find some of your courage. That is all. And we can spare Ned and his boy one day a week to keep that little garden in trim. He does not have enough to do here as it is.”
    As he walked back to the Constabulary Headquarters, Giles turned over her words in his mind, thinking of that clean, sea-swept place, the white house in the meadow with its pretty gardens, surrounded by high walls where Laura was presently lodged. It was a sweet secluded spot, the very definition of asylum. He thought of the quiet room where Laura sat with