He nodded. “Cold as ice. The man couldn’t find anything except the parachute.”
Truth was that Inspector Hill had returned only once since Olivia left, on his way to investigate another parachute that was found farther south. He’d found no trace of Roger or evidence that anyone on the estate had assisted a German parachutist. Eddie told the man his wife had left him, so he didn’t inquire again about Olivia. And the photos were buried safely under the floorboard upstairs, in case the detective searched the house.
“Did you receive my parcels?” he asked.
“The postman brought them, but there wasn’t enough food for the girl and me.”
“Everyone is rationing.”
“There is plenty of food at Breydon Court,” she insisted.
“I’ll start sending you boxes twice a week.”
“Once a week, Eddie. You can bring the second one when you visit on Saturdays.”
He glanced around the dirty room, not wanting to stay another minute in this place, much less an entire Saturday. All Olivia had to do was keep house and prepare for the guests that Lady Ricker sent her way. Had she forgotten how to use a broom? Or how to coax the girl to do it for her?
He tested the legs of a rickety chair before he sat in it. “Where’s the girl?”
“Locked in her room.” She pointed toward a closed door. “She tried to run away right after we arrived, but she returned the next day.”
He opened a tin of biscuits and ate one. “I wish we could let her run.”
She took her place across the table from him, her hazel eyes grim. “This business is going to be the death of us, Eddie.”
Her laziness might be the death of them, but he kept that thought to himself. Lady Ricker had made him swear to keep Olivia as happy as possible, her stomach full, until their business was over. “It won’t be long now.”
“So you say—”
He reached across the table, pulling her hands into his. “We’ll live like a lord and lady when the Germans take over. Think of it—a house of our own, as big as Breydon Court. The prettiest gowns money can buy. A lady’s maid, even, to attend your needs.”
Olivia’s smile was lopsided, but at least it was a smile. Perhaps the idea of being a lady of her own home instead of this dump would keep her engaged.
“Right now, I’d be satisfied with a good meal. Roast chicken or beef Wellington.”
“Beef will be the first item on our menu.”
She shook away his hands and reached for an apple in the box. “Can you imagine us having our own cook?”
“That’s the spirit, Olivia. You’ll have anything you want. From jewels to jellies.”
“Peach trifle?”
“Of course,” he said, growing weary of the game, the talk of food. But everything was dependent on her faithfulness and the work of the girl. Lady Ricker would blame him if anything went awry, rescinding his lordship under the Führer.
“The lady from Tonbridge stopped to register the girl for school,” he said.
“What did you tell her?”
“That another woman came after the bombing and accompanied the girl to an evacuee ship traveling to Canada.”
“Was she satisfied?”
“I believe so, though she was quite frustrated that someone usurped her authority.”
Olivia glanced toward the door. “So the girl is ours.”
“Until the end of the war.”
She knotted her hands together. “It can’t end soon enough, Eddie.”
“Agreed.” If he left within the hour, he could be back to Breydon Court before dark. “I have more food in the car. Boxes of it.”
“Did you bring my coupons?”
“I’m using them to buy food for you.”
“I’d rather go into town myself—”
He shook his head. “No one from Newhaven can know you’re here.”
“The postman knows. And if he can ride his bike out here, I can walk to the grocer.”
“It’s much too far, and you can’t leave the girl.” He glanced around the cluttered room again. “It seems you have plenty of work to do here.”
She groaned. “I’m bored out of my mind, Eddie.”
“You and the girl can plant a garden.” He lifted two bags of seeds from his pocket. “I brought you a hoe as well.”
If she could grow some of her own food, he wouldn’t have to make the journey often over that miserable road.
“I’ve never gardened before.”
“I’ll teach you,” he said.
She didn’t thank him. “We need more candles.”
“I’ll mail you some, straightaway.”
“And another bucket.”
No matter what he gave her, she always wanted more. “Why do you need another bucket?”
“To retrieve water from the well.” She leaned into the table. “And one more thing.”
“There’s a war going on, Olivia. We can’t have everything we’d like.”
“I want some of Lady Ricker’s magazines.”