In This Grave Hour (Maisie Dobbs #13)

“Yes, it is—very peaceful.”


Preston stepped closer to the window. She frowned as she stared at Anna, who was sitting on the grass reading a book, with Emma by her side, her head on the child’s lap.

“Oh, so here’s where that little girl ended up,” said Preston, jogging Violet on her hip as she began to fret. “I wondered about that one—she was at the station.” She turned to Maisie and Brenda. “I mean, it was teeming—teeming—with children and mothers crying, but I remember her, because it was all rather odd. And I always notice when something’s a bit off.”

“What was odd?” asked Maisie.

“We got there late. What with the boys, I’m always late. Everywhere I go, I’m late. We were supposed to leave from the school, all the children walking along in a crocodile, you know, in twos, holding hands. We were right at the end, running to catch up and me with the pram as well. I tell you, it was like a river of children and their mums in front of us, going up Denmark Hill towards the station. My boys were jumping up and down, trying to find their mates, when we got to the station, and that was when I noticed her, that girl. She was with an elderly lady. And the old girl was very poorly too, it looked to me, and you don’t want to get a nasty chest at that age. She was coughing—that’s what made me look. I remember thinking, I hope that child hasn’t caught anything from her nan—it’d struck me that the lady was her nan. I mean, I didn’t want my boys getting on a train with a sickly child—all them children squashed in together like sardines, and the weather what it was. If one caught something nasty, it would go through the lot of them like lightning.”

“You’d never seen the woman before?” asked Maisie.

“Never seen either of them before—but there were so many children from different schools, I didn’t know half the people there anyway. It was all I could do to get my lads with their class, and I caught a few choice words from their teacher. You’d’ve thought she was my teacher, the way she went on. ‘Not very good, Mrs. Preston,’ she said. ‘Not good enough at all.’ I thought she would give me a black mark in my book!” The woman laughed as if she were indeed a naughty schoolgirl caught misbehaving.

The girl brought in a tray with tea and cake. Brenda thanked her, and began to pour.

“What can you tell me about the old lady?” asked Maisie. “You see, no one knows anything about the child, except her name: Anna.”

“She wasn’t with one of the schools, then?”

“I don’t think she’d started school.”

The woman put a sandwich and a slice of cake on her plate. “Excuse me, but I have to get a bite down me before I collapse.” Maisie and Brenda sipped their tea. Preston swallowed, then began to speak. “You know what’s just occurred to me—I think that old lady was just getting rid of her, the girl. Evacuation came up at the right time, I reckon. I mean, the woman didn’t look well enough to look after a child—and where was the littl’un’s mother, anyway? That’s what I’d like to know.” She took a cup of tea from Brenda. “Thank you, Mrs. Dobbs.” She sipped, picked up her sandwich again, and turned back to watching Anna in the garden. “The child was nicely turned out—not anything posh, but you could see she was clean. Had her little coat—probably secondhand and not thick enough for colder weather, when it comes. But it was pressed, and her socks were white. She didn’t cry, not like some of them. Mind you, mine had smiles plastered across their faces—you could see it on them. They were glad to get away from home and a smart smack on the legs every time they give me a bit of lip. I mean, their father’s never there to chastise them, so it’s all down to me.”

“About Anna—could you describe the old lady?”

Mrs. Preston shook her head. “I don’t know if I could.” She chewed another bite of the sandwich before continuing. “Her clothes were older, but looked after, as if she was short of a few bob, but had her standards all the same. You know the sort. She seemed kindly to the girl, talking to her, gave her a kiss and cuddle before she pointed, telling her to join the line. The little girl didn’t look back, didn’t shed a tear, just did what she was told. I remember—now I come to think of it—that she started sucking on her fingers, so perhaps that was comfort for her. The lady was coughing badly—wouldn’t’ve surprised me if she’d brought up some blood. I saw her walk off—I think she was having a good cry, if truth be told—and then I had to get after my boys, you know, give them a peck on the cheek and remind them there’d be a clip around the ear if they misbehaved.” She looked at Brenda. “I hope they haven’t been too much of a handful.”

“Not to worry—Mr. Dobbs has them under his thumb, and he’s enjoying having them here.”