“You’re telling me to mind my language in this business? She’s heard it all and talk more ripe than that into the bargain, I’m sure.”
“I don’t think he will get away with anything, Inspector Caldwell,” said Maisie. “We might not know the outcome—that depends upon the government’s stance at this point, given Belgium’s situation as our ally. Releasing details of the killer might give an indication of resistance operations in the last war—which will in turn provide the Nazis with a clue as to Secret Service plans in this one.”
“Nothing’s been happening in this one so far,” said Caldwell.
“Something will happen. We both know it will.”
As soon as they reached the office, Maisie asked Billy to find out what Albert Durant had done with his wife’s remains. Had she been buried or cremated? And if she had been cremated, were the ashes interred, or had he chosen to keep them? She could not recall seeing an urn when she visited the flat he had shared with his late wife. For her part, Maisie placed several telephone calls—the first to the Dower House, to ask Brenda to bring Anna up to London to see her grandmother the following day. Next she telephoned Priscilla with an urgent request, and also her solicitor, Bernard Klein, who made room in his busy day to see her before he left his office.
After Billy had left Fitzroy Square, as Maisie once again wove her way through London traffic, she reflected on her father’s frustration on those occasions when she tried to do more than perhaps she should for little Anna Mason. She wondered—again—if she were doing the right thing, though, as Klein had pointed out, there were few laws to protect children in Anna’s position. He’d also drawn her attention to a proposed law that might affect Anna, though debate about it would now be delayed until after the war. She hoped that by circumventing any action by the authorities, she would be standing up for the child, even if she might again incur her father’s disapproval.
Frankie and Brenda did not at first see Maisie on the other side of the gate where a guard checked tickets. Anna was walking between Maisie’s father and her stepmother, her gas mask bobbing up and down on her hip when she gave a little skip as she walked. Frankie said something to her, and she looked up at him and chuckled, turning to Brenda as if to check that she was laughing along with them. Maisie felt her heart leap. How would she ever find the right home for this little girl when the end of the war came, and it was time for her to leave?
“I’m here!” Maisie called out to the trio, standing on tiptoe and waving.
Brenda leaned down and spoke to Anna, pointing to Maisie in the distance. Frankie released her hand at the same time as Brenda, and after a second’s hesitation, Anna began to run towards Maisie.
“I’ve trotted on Lady. I’ve trot-trot-trotted!” Anna’s excitement seemed to bubble up and overflow as she threw her arms around Maisie’s legs. Maisie looked down, ran her hand across the child’s dark hair, and without thinking reached out and picked her up.
“Are you ready to see your nan, Anna?”
Anna nodded, burrowing her head into Maisie’s neck before looking up again. “I’ll tell her I trotted on Lady. And I drew pictures for her—Auntie Brenda’s got them.”
“Auntie Brenda? Good, that’s wonderful—come on then, let’s be on our way. Nan’s waiting for you.”
“She does look lovely,” said the staff nurse, leading Maisie, Anna, Frankie, and Brenda to the end of the ward, where Louisa Mason lay in her bed. “Your friend’s a bit pushy though—I dreaded Matron coming in, because I’m sure they would have had a bit of a barny, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, yes, I know very well what you mean,” said Maisie. “Mrs. Partridge is nothing if not forthright—but she acts quickly when required to do so.”
“She brought a lovely nightdress, with Chantilly lace at the neck and wrist—from Harrods, no less. Must’ve cost a packet, that. And a quilted bed jacket—beautiful peachy color, it is. Anyway, I’m not supposed to let you all in at once, but Sister is turning a blind eye in the circumstances, and if the child wants to get on the bed, just remember to take off her shoes.”
Maisie thanked the nurse, who pulled back the screen so the group could cluster around the bed, then replaced it to give a modicum of privacy.
Anna clambered onto the bed, aided by Frankie, with Brenda unbuckling her shoes just in time.
“Oh, my lovely one, my lovely girl.” Louisa held Anna’s face in her two hands and looked at her with intensity, as if to commit the child’s image to memory.