Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)

 

Fig’s face was a picture. She opened her mouth, went to say something, closed it again. I couldn’t resist answering hurriedly, “If you’re really sure it wouldn’t be inconvenient?”

 

“Inconvenient?” Binky said. “It’s your home, Georgie, old bean. We’d love to have you—wouldn’t we, Fig?”

 

There was a distinct pause before she managed a tight smile and said, “Of course we would. Absolutely love you to stay.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

 

OCTOBER 29

 

RANNOCH HOUSE, BELGRAVE SQUARE, LONDON W.1.

 

I had to smile to myself as I left Rannoch House and headed for the Hyde Park Corner tube station. I had somewhere to stay for the immediate future. Now all I needed to do was to collect Queenie from her parents so that she could pack up my clothes and help me move in.

 

“Oh golly,” I thought as reality dawned. That would really annoy Fig. She couldn’t stand Queenie and had wanted me to sack her on numerous occasions. I found I was taking a perverse pleasure in knowing that both Queenie and I would be a source of irritation to Fig. Of course it wouldn’t be for long, but if I was also invited to the wedding, then I’d have to stay until the end of November, by which time I should have secured some kind of job or invitation.

 

The train arrived and we plunged into darkness on my way to deepest Essex and my grandfather’s house. His next-door neighbor was Queenie’s great-aunt so she would know whether Queenie’s mother had recovered sufficiently for me to drag Queenie away. My grandfather’s house was on a quiet suburban street of lower-middle-class respectability. Each semidetached house had a small square of front garden blooming with roses and lavender in the summer but at this time of year looking sorry and bare. Granddad’s front garden still looked cheerful since he had three brightly painted gnomes in the middle of his flower bed. I took a deep breath before I went up to the front door. I seemed to wait a long time before I heard a voice saying, “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

 

The door was opened and Granddad stood there. To my surprise he was in his dressing gown and slippers. He looked at me with suspicion then his old wrinkled face broke into a broad grin.

 

“Well, swipe me,” he said. “You’re the last person I expected to see, my love. I thought it would be her from next door coming round with the stew she promised me. If I’d known you was coming I’d have spruced meself up a bit.”

 

“You’re not well?” I asked, kissing the stubble on his weathered cheek as he hugged me.

 

“Nothing serious. Just a touch of the old bronchitis. I get it something shocking when the weather’s like this. But I’m on the mend now. Taking it easy like the doctor said and letting her next door take care of me. I must say she’s a good sort, coming round with all manner of dishes to tempt me to eat again. But come on in. Don’t just stand there. I’ll put the kettle on and she baked a tasty Dundee cake the other day.”

 

I followed him through to the kitchen, then perched on a wooden chair while he filled the kettle.

 

“I wish you’d told me you’d been ill, Granddad,” I said. “I could have come to take care of you.”

 

“Very kind of you, ducks, but like I said, it weren’t nothing serious. Just a spot of the old trouble. These lungs have lived in the Smoke too long. Don’t work proper no more.”

 

“I wish I had a house in the country, then I’d take you to live with me,” I said. “You’re so much better in good country air.”

 

“Don’t you worry about me, my love.” He patted my hand. “I’ve had a good innings. Can’t complain.”

 

I gripped his hand. He had always seemed so strong, so chipper before. The ex-policeman who had tackled everything in his life. It was worrying to see him almost giving up. “Don’t talk that way, Granddad. You’ve got to stay around for a long while yet. You have to come to my wedding and hold my first child.”

 

“Either of those likely to happen any day now?” he asked with a cheeky smile. “That Darcy fellow still courting you?”

 

“Hardly courting me.” I smiled. “And he’s not around at the moment. But one day . . .”

 

“He’s the right sort, that Darcy,” Granddad said. “You stick with him and you’ll do all right.”

 

The kettle boiled and he put three scoops of tea into the pot before pouring on the boiling water.

 

“So what brings you down here today? Just come for a chat or was it something more?”