"Do
you have an address?"
"I'm afraid
not," Mr. Hollowbrooke intoned. "She didn't leave one."
"Oh?"
I said at the same time George asked, "Really?"
Jacob frowned. "Very
odd."
"Did she
get an appointment at another school perhaps?" I persisted. She could not
simply have left without a trace.
"Not that I
am aware of."
"What about
Mr. Blunt, the previous master?" George asked. "Can you tell us where
he is now?"
"No." Hollowbrooke
pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. "Now
unless there's anything else... I'm very busy..."
"Yes, of
course," George said. "Thank you, Mr. Hollowbrooke."
Hollowbrooke
left and the maid reappeared. She walked us to the front door.
"Do you
know where Mrs. White or Mr. Blunt have gone?" I asked her. "We would
dearly like to thank them both for finding us suitable maids. They were very
helpful."
"I don't
know where Mr. Blunt went," she said, rubbing her arms as if she were cold.
"He just got up and left in the middle of the night last week. Very
odd." She dropped her arms and smiled. No, beamed. I think she was very
happy that Blunt had gone. I wasn't surprised, considering what he used to do
in the girl's dormitory at night. "Mrs. White went a few days later. She
said she needed to look after her sister who'd taken ill suddenly. Sad to see
her go. Very sad." She sighed and opened the door.
"Do you
know where her sister lives?" I asked.
"No, miss. Sorry,
miss."
George took my
arm and we stepped down the stairs to the waiting coach. Jacob followed. A
group of children were inspecting the horses and the gold Culvert escutcheon
painted on the door. The driver had hopped down and showed them how to pat the
horses correctly but the stiff footmen had not moved from their perch. They
both scowled as if assessing the number of grubby fingerprints on the glossy
black paintwork.
"I'm going
to check Hollowbrooke's office," Jacob said then disappeared.
George helped me
up into the coach. "Well? What do you think?"
"I think
someone is lying," I said. "Mrs. White didn't have any family."
"So she
told us."
"Do you
think that was a falsehood?" I asked. "Or is Hollowbrooke the one who
invented the sister?"
He removed his
glasses and rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. "I don't
know. Perhaps. He was certainly a difficult man to read."
I nodded. "Whoever
is lying, they managed to convince the maid about the sister."
"Not
surprising. She is just a maid after all."
I sighed. George
could be sweet and clever, but his attitude toward servants was somewhere
between complete disregard and condescending. Equality of the classes was not a
notion that had occurred to his level of society, which made it all the more
amazing that Jacob didn't share his manner.
"I wonder
where Mrs. White went," I said.
"I wonder why she went." We discussed possibilities but without any further information,
they were only ideas.
When we reached
Druids Way, Jacob reappeared. "There was nothing in Hollowbrooke's office
about Mrs. White," he said.
"You didn't
rifle through his papers while he was there, I hope." I giggled despite
the seriousness of our situation. The picture of Mr. Hollowbrooke's bland face
coming alive with horror as his papers rustled was quite amusing.
The corner of Jacob's
mouth flicked up in a half-smile. "No. He was elsewhere."
"So Mrs.
White left no forwarding address," I said, mostly for George's benefit,
"and she lied about her reason for leaving."
We arrived at my
house and George sighed. "I think we have officially hit a dead end."
I winced, but he
didn't seem to notice his inappropriate choice of words. Not that Jacob seemed
to notice either. He stared at me with the familiar intensity that turned my
insides to water.
"Your
involvement ends here, Emily," he said. "Now."
The footman
opened the door so I couldn't tell Jacob he was wrong.
***
I found Celia
and Lucy in the kitchen shelling peas. Or rather, Lucy was shelling peas at the
central table while my
you have an address?"
"I'm afraid
not," Mr. Hollowbrooke intoned. "She didn't leave one."
"Oh?"
I said at the same time George asked, "Really?"
Jacob frowned. "Very
odd."
"Did she
get an appointment at another school perhaps?" I persisted. She could not
simply have left without a trace.
"Not that I
am aware of."
"What about
Mr. Blunt, the previous master?" George asked. "Can you tell us where
he is now?"
"No." Hollowbrooke
pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. "Now
unless there's anything else... I'm very busy..."
"Yes, of
course," George said. "Thank you, Mr. Hollowbrooke."
Hollowbrooke
left and the maid reappeared. She walked us to the front door.
"Do you
know where Mrs. White or Mr. Blunt have gone?" I asked her. "We would
dearly like to thank them both for finding us suitable maids. They were very
helpful."
"I don't
know where Mr. Blunt went," she said, rubbing her arms as if she were cold.
"He just got up and left in the middle of the night last week. Very
odd." She dropped her arms and smiled. No, beamed. I think she was very
happy that Blunt had gone. I wasn't surprised, considering what he used to do
in the girl's dormitory at night. "Mrs. White went a few days later. She
said she needed to look after her sister who'd taken ill suddenly. Sad to see
her go. Very sad." She sighed and opened the door.
"Do you
know where her sister lives?" I asked.
"No, miss. Sorry,
miss."
George took my
arm and we stepped down the stairs to the waiting coach. Jacob followed. A
group of children were inspecting the horses and the gold Culvert escutcheon
painted on the door. The driver had hopped down and showed them how to pat the
horses correctly but the stiff footmen had not moved from their perch. They
both scowled as if assessing the number of grubby fingerprints on the glossy
black paintwork.
"I'm going
to check Hollowbrooke's office," Jacob said then disappeared.
George helped me
up into the coach. "Well? What do you think?"
"I think
someone is lying," I said. "Mrs. White didn't have any family."
"So she
told us."
"Do you
think that was a falsehood?" I asked. "Or is Hollowbrooke the one who
invented the sister?"
He removed his
glasses and rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. "I don't
know. Perhaps. He was certainly a difficult man to read."
I nodded. "Whoever
is lying, they managed to convince the maid about the sister."
"Not
surprising. She is just a maid after all."
I sighed. George
could be sweet and clever, but his attitude toward servants was somewhere
between complete disregard and condescending. Equality of the classes was not a
notion that had occurred to his level of society, which made it all the more
amazing that Jacob didn't share his manner.
"I wonder
where Mrs. White went," I said.
"I wonder why she went." We discussed possibilities but without any further information,
they were only ideas.
When we reached
Druids Way, Jacob reappeared. "There was nothing in Hollowbrooke's office
about Mrs. White," he said.
"You didn't
rifle through his papers while he was there, I hope." I giggled despite
the seriousness of our situation. The picture of Mr. Hollowbrooke's bland face
coming alive with horror as his papers rustled was quite amusing.
The corner of Jacob's
mouth flicked up in a half-smile. "No. He was elsewhere."
"So Mrs.
White left no forwarding address," I said, mostly for George's benefit,
"and she lied about her reason for leaving."
We arrived at my
house and George sighed. "I think we have officially hit a dead end."
I winced, but he
didn't seem to notice his inappropriate choice of words. Not that Jacob seemed
to notice either. He stared at me with the familiar intensity that turned my
insides to water.
"Your
involvement ends here, Emily," he said. "Now."
The footman
opened the door so I couldn't tell Jacob he was wrong.
***
I found Celia
and Lucy in the kitchen shelling peas. Or rather, Lucy was shelling peas at the
central table while my
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