to her, ‘I’ll jot down all the gen I can think of on the Chattertons and let you have it with the photographs. If you learn it all parrot fashion, there won’t be much risk of you landing in the drink.’
Turning to Rowley he added with a grin: ‘When I got back from Persia, I asked you to put me up for a couple of nights, and you made an excuse not to. I’ve a hunch that Linda’s being here was the reason. Now the cards are all on the table, how about the future?’
Rowley laughed. ‘Of course, my dear chap. Linda now has the best spare room, but you can have the smaller one at the back on the first floor, and share my bathroom. We’ll be delighted to see you.’
‘Thanks, chum.’ Dutton winked a merry blue eye. ‘ “Roger” to that.’
When Linda went to bed that night her mind was entirely occupied by Eric. He was so obviously a man of the world: elegantly but not ostentatiously dressed, completely at his ease and sure of himself, withcharming manners, a delightful sense of humour and knowledgeable on every subject they had talked about. She had never before met anyone remotely like him.
For the greater part of the past twenty years Eric had lived in British Embassies or Consulates, with the constant companionship of widely-travelled, university-educated men, and had enjoyed the friendship of diplomats of other nations and upper-class families in the countries in which he had been stationed. Rowley alone, of all the people to whom Linda had ever talked, equalled Eric mentally; physically, of course, poor Rowley could not be compared to his younger friend.
It remained only for Linda to have a word next day with the Luchenis. At Rowley’s suggestion she told them that she had inherited some money from an uncle on condition that she changed her name to Chatterton. Accepting her statement without question, they smilingly congratulated her.
The following Tuesday evening proved by no means so enjoyable. Although smooth politeness was maintained throughout, Linda was conscious that beneath the surface lay troubled waters. Elsie Spilkin was a short, stout woman, with small, pale-blue eyes and reddish hair. Her husband, Arthur, was considerably older. His dark hair was thinning and long strands of it were brushed sideways across a balding scalp. His eyes were black and slightly hooded, but his most remarkable feature was his nose. It was a veritable beak: arched, and so thin that it ended in a downward-curving point. Linda was so intrigued that she could hardly keep her eyes off it.
She was feeling decidedly nervous and was comforted only by the knowledge that she had learned by heart theparticulars about the Chattertons that Eric had sent her, so was equipped as well as possible for her role as his niece.
The Spilkins greeted her pleasantly enough, and asked her only a few casual questions about herself, which she had no difficulty in answering. But almost from the beginning the conversation was stilted. Rowley was also evidently nervous. Having welcomed the couple effusively and gone into an unnecessarily long explanation as to why he now needed a living-in secretary, he seemed to become almost tongue-tied. Frequently there fell brief, awkward silences, and how they would have got through the evening Linda could not think, had not Eric adroitly produced new topics of conversation.
Toward the end of dinner, Elsie said to Linda with a patronising air, ‘I would not dream of questioning your abilities as a secretary, Miss Chatterton; but I imagine you have had little experience of housekeeping. So it might be best if I continued to come up every Tuesday to arrange about the meals and so on.’
Linda took this fast ball admirably. ‘It’s most kind of you to suggest doing that, Mrs. Spilkin; but it really isn’t necessary. My mother always hated housekeeping, so she made me take a cookery course and, as soon as I left school, turned the running of the house over to me. So I’ve had quite a bit of
Turning to Rowley he added with a grin: ‘When I got back from Persia, I asked you to put me up for a couple of nights, and you made an excuse not to. I’ve a hunch that Linda’s being here was the reason. Now the cards are all on the table, how about the future?’
Rowley laughed. ‘Of course, my dear chap. Linda now has the best spare room, but you can have the smaller one at the back on the first floor, and share my bathroom. We’ll be delighted to see you.’
‘Thanks, chum.’ Dutton winked a merry blue eye. ‘ “Roger” to that.’
When Linda went to bed that night her mind was entirely occupied by Eric. He was so obviously a man of the world: elegantly but not ostentatiously dressed, completely at his ease and sure of himself, withcharming manners, a delightful sense of humour and knowledgeable on every subject they had talked about. She had never before met anyone remotely like him.
For the greater part of the past twenty years Eric had lived in British Embassies or Consulates, with the constant companionship of widely-travelled, university-educated men, and had enjoyed the friendship of diplomats of other nations and upper-class families in the countries in which he had been stationed. Rowley alone, of all the people to whom Linda had ever talked, equalled Eric mentally; physically, of course, poor Rowley could not be compared to his younger friend.
It remained only for Linda to have a word next day with the Luchenis. At Rowley’s suggestion she told them that she had inherited some money from an uncle on condition that she changed her name to Chatterton. Accepting her statement without question, they smilingly congratulated her.
The following Tuesday evening proved by no means so enjoyable. Although smooth politeness was maintained throughout, Linda was conscious that beneath the surface lay troubled waters. Elsie Spilkin was a short, stout woman, with small, pale-blue eyes and reddish hair. Her husband, Arthur, was considerably older. His dark hair was thinning and long strands of it were brushed sideways across a balding scalp. His eyes were black and slightly hooded, but his most remarkable feature was his nose. It was a veritable beak: arched, and so thin that it ended in a downward-curving point. Linda was so intrigued that she could hardly keep her eyes off it.
She was feeling decidedly nervous and was comforted only by the knowledge that she had learned by heart theparticulars about the Chattertons that Eric had sent her, so was equipped as well as possible for her role as his niece.
The Spilkins greeted her pleasantly enough, and asked her only a few casual questions about herself, which she had no difficulty in answering. But almost from the beginning the conversation was stilted. Rowley was also evidently nervous. Having welcomed the couple effusively and gone into an unnecessarily long explanation as to why he now needed a living-in secretary, he seemed to become almost tongue-tied. Frequently there fell brief, awkward silences, and how they would have got through the evening Linda could not think, had not Eric adroitly produced new topics of conversation.
Toward the end of dinner, Elsie said to Linda with a patronising air, ‘I would not dream of questioning your abilities as a secretary, Miss Chatterton; but I imagine you have had little experience of housekeeping. So it might be best if I continued to come up every Tuesday to arrange about the meals and so on.’
Linda took this fast ball admirably. ‘It’s most kind of you to suggest doing that, Mrs. Spilkin; but it really isn’t necessary. My mother always hated housekeeping, so she made me take a cookery course and, as soon as I left school, turned the running of the house over to me. So I’ve had quite a bit of
Similar Books
