Cater Street Hangman (6 page)

They all turned to Emily, who opened her eyes with apparent innocence.

“When did you say the occasion was, Mrs. Prebble?”

“Next Friday week, in the evening, at the church hall.”

Emily’s face fell.

“Oh, how most unfortunate. I have promised to do a favour for a friend, to visit an elderly relation with her; you understand of course that she would not make the journey alone. And visits mean so much to the elderly, especially when they are not in the best of health.”

Emily, you liar, Caroline thought, afraid lest it show in her face. But she had to concede, lie though it was, Emily did it uncommonly well!

And so the visit progressed: polite, largely meaningless conversation; excellent tea, hot and fragrant; rather gluey cakes; and everyone hoping the vicar would not return.

They all walked home together, Sarah and Emily talking, Sarah the more. Emily seemed a little short of temper. Caroline came a step or two behind them, her mind still on Martha Prebble, and what manner of woman she must be to enjoy living with the vicar. Had he perhaps been very different when he was young? Heaven knew, Edward was pompous enough at times; perhaps all men were. But the vicar was infinitely worse. Caroline had often ached to laugh at Edward, even at Dominic; only a lack of courage had prevented her. Did Martha also long to laugh? It was not a face of laughter. In fact the more she thought about it, the more it seemed a face of suffering: strong-boned, reflecting deep feelings; not a face of peace.

A month later the whole event was only an embarrassing memory. Charlotte was delighted to have been prohibited from attending and had agreed, as fervently as was politic, that she might well say something to cause ill-feeling—inadvertently, of course.

Tonight it was gusty and cold for August. Mama, Sarah, and Emily had all gone to a further affair at the church hall, and since Martha Prebble had a summer cold, it was all the more necessary that it should be well supported by people like Mama, capable of organizing, seeing that those in charge of the catering attended to details, that things were done on time, and all was adequately tidied up afterwards. Again, Charlotte was happy to remain at home, with a quite genuine headache.

She thought it might be caused by the heavy, stormy weather, and she opened the garden doors to let in the air. It worked surprisingly well, and by nine o’clock she felt much better.

At ten o’clock she closed the doors as it was now dark. Sitting with the darkness intruding she felt a little vulnerable, remembering that there was nothing between the garden and the street except the rose wall. She had been reading a book her father would not have approved of, but a perfect opportunity since both he and Dominic were also out.

It was half past ten, and quite dark outside, when Mrs. Dunphy knocked on the withdrawing room door.

Charlotte looked up.

“Yes?”

Mrs. Dunphy came in, her hair a little untidy, her apron screwed up in her fingers.

Charlotte stared at her in surprise.

“What is it, Mrs. Dunphy?”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t ought to bother you, Miss Charlotte, but I don’t rightly know what to do about it!”

“About what, Mrs. Dunphy? Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

“Oh no, Miss Charlotte. It’s Lily.” Mrs. Dunphy looked wretched. “She’s gone out with that Jack Brody again, and she isn’t back. It’s gone half past ten, Miss Charlotte, and she’ll have to be up at six in the morning.”

“Well don’t you worry about it,” Charlotte said a little sharply. She loathed trying to sort out domestic wrangles. “If she feels terrible tomorrow, perhaps she’ll learn not to stay out too late in future.”

Mrs. Dunphy caught her breath in exasperation.

“You don’t understand, Miss Charlotte! It’s half past ten and she hasn’t come home yet! I never did like that Jack Brody. Mr. Maddock has said a number of times he was no good, and Lily ought to tell him to be on his way.”

Charlotte had noticed that Maddock had a very ready regard for Lily, which would predispose him to disapprove of Jack Brody, or anyone else with whom she stepped out.

“I wouldn’t take Maddock’s view very seriously, Mrs. Dunphy. He’s probably harmless enough.”

“Miss Charlotte, it’s nearer eleven than ten, and it’s dark outside and Lily’s out there somewhere with a man that’s no good! Mr. Maddock’s been out to look for her. He’s out there now, but I think you should do something.”

Charlotte realized for the first time exactly what Mrs. Dunphy was afraid of.

“Oh, don’t be foolish, Mrs. Dunphy!” she burst out, not because it was foolish, but because she was afraid now too. “She’ll be back presently, and you can send her in here to me. I’ll make it plain to her that if she does this again we shall dismiss her. You’d better tell Maddock when he comes back, and then go to bed yourself. Maddock will wait up.”

“Yes, Miss Charlotte. Do you—do you think she’ll be all right?”

“Not if she ever does this again. Now go back to the kitchen and don’t worry about it.”

“Yes, thank you, Miss,” and Mrs. Dunphy went out, still twisting her apron in one hand.

It was half an hour later, after eleven, when Maddock came in.

Charlotte put down her book. She was just about to go to bed herself. There was no point in waiting up for the others. Although they were later than she had expected. Church hall affairs usually finished by ten. Perhaps there was a lot of clearing up to do, and then they would have to find a carriage home. Papa was at his club, and she could not remember where Dominic had said he was going.

“What is it, Maddock?”

“It’s after eleven, Miss Charlotte, and Lily still isn’t home. With your permission, I think we should contact the police.”

“The police! Whatever for? We can’t get the police out because our servant girl is out with an undesirable man! We’ll be the laughingstock of the neighbourhood. Papa would never forgive us. Even if she is . . . ” she looked for the word “ . . . loose enough to stay out all night.”

Maddock’s face tightened.

“Neither of our girls is immoral, Miss Charlotte. There is something wrong.”

“All right then, if not immoral, foolish, thoughtless.” Charlotte was beginning to be really frightened herself now. She wished Papa were here, or Dominic. They would know what to do. Was Lily really in danger, should she call the police? The very thought of speaking to the police was frightening, demeaning. Respectable people did not have to call the police. If she did, would Papa be furious? Her mind raced with possibilities, of rumours of disgrace, of Papa’s face red with anger, of Lily lying in the road somewhere.

“All right, perhaps you’d better call them,” she said very quietly.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go myself, and lock the door behind me. And don’t worry, Miss Charlotte. You’ll be perfectly safe here with Mrs. Dunphy and Dora. Just don’t let anyone in.”

“Yes, Maddock. Thank you.”

She sat down to wait. Suddenly the room seemed chill and she huddled further into the cushions on the sofa. Had she done the right thing? Wasn’t it a little hysterical to send Maddock out for the police just because Lily was no better than she should be? Papa would be furious. It would be talked about. Mama would be thoroughly embarrassed. It reflected on the morality of the whole household.

She stood up to call Maddock back, then realized it was too late. She had only just sat back on the sofa, shivering, when the front door opened and closed. She froze.

Then Sarah’s voice came clearly. “I’ve never been so tired in all my life! Does Mrs. Prebble normally do all that herself?”

“No, of course not,” Caroline said wearily. “It’s just that with her being ill she didn’t contact the people who normally help.”

The door to the withdrawing room opened.

“Why, Charlotte, what on earth are you doing sitting there like a child huddled in the half-dark? Are you ill?” Caroline came forward quickly.

Charlotte was so glad to see her she felt the tears prickle in her eyes. It was ridiculous. She swallowed hard.

“Mama, Lily hasn’t come back. Maddock’s gone to tell the police!”

Caroline stared.

“Police!” Emily said incredulously, and then her disbelief changed to anger. “What on earth are you thinking of, Charlotte? You must be mad!”

Sarah came up behind her.

“What will the neighbours say? We can’t have the police here just because a servant girl has run off with someone!” She looked around as if she expected to see him materialize. “Where’s Dominic?”

“He’s out, of course!” Charlotte snapped. “Do you think if he were here he’d have gone to bed?”

“You should never have left Charlotte alone,” Emily said, anger sharpening her tone.

“Well, possibly Mama didn’t know Lily was going to pick tonight to get lost!” Charlotte could hear her voice cracking. In her mind she saw Lily lying in the street. “She might be dead or something, and all you are thinking of is making silly remarks!”

Before anyone could take it any further the door opened and closed again and Edward came in through the open doorway of the withdrawing room.

“What’s the matter?” he said immediately. “Caroline?”

“Charlotte sent for the police because Lily has run away,” Sarah said furiously. “I expect we’ll be the talk of the street tomorrow!”

Edward stood aghast, staring at Charlotte.

“Charlotte?” he demanded.

“Yes, Papa.” She could not look at him.

“What on earth possessed you to do such a foolish thing, child?”

“She was afraid something . . . ” Caroline began.

“Be silent, Caroline,” he said sharply. “Charlotte? I’m waiting!”

Charlotte felt her tears disappear in rebellion. She looked at him, as angry as he was now.

“If the whole street is going to talk about us,” she replied distinctly, “I would prefer it were because we were worried unnecessarily than because we didn’t care enough to see if she was all right when she was lying somewhere hurt!”

“Charlotte, go to your room!”

Wordlessly, head high, she went out and up the stairs. Her bedroom was cold and dark, but she could only think of the colder and darker streets outside.

She woke in the morning tired and heavy-headed. She remembered last night. Papa was almost certainly still angry, and poor Lily would reap the worst of it, possibly even a dismissal. Maddock was probably in for an unpleasant patch, too. She must remember not to make it worse for him by letting Papa know it was he who had suggested the police.

And of course if Lily were dismissed it would upset the whole household until a replacement was found. Mrs. Dunphy would be thoroughly aggrieved. Dora would be run silly. And Mama would discover all over again how hard it was to come by a respectable girl, never mind to train her.

It was still early but there was no point in lying in bed. Anyway, better to get it over with than to lie fearing and building it into ever larger proportions.

She had ventured as far as the downstairs hall when she saw Dora.

“Oh, Miss Charlotte!”

“What’s the matter, Dora? You look terrible. Are you ill?”

“Not properly speaking, I’m not. But isn’t it terrible, Miss?”

Charlotte’s heart sank. Surely Papa had not turned Lily out into the street in the middle of the night?

“What
is, Dora? I went to bed before Lily came back.”

“Oh, Miss Charlotte,” Dora swallowed, her eyes round. “She never did come back. She must be lying murdered in the street somewhere, and we all in our beds like we didn’t care!”

“She doesn’t have to be anything of the sort!” Charlotte snapped, trying to convince herself. “She’s probably lying in bed, too, in some miserable room with Jack what’s-his-name.”

“Oh no, Miss, it’s wicked of you to say—” She blushed violently. “I’m sorry, Miss Charlotte, but you didn’t ought to say that. Lily was a good girl. She’d have never done that, and without giving notice even!”

Charlotte changed the subject.

“Did the police come, do you know? I mean, Maddock went for them.”

“Yes, Miss, a constable came, but he seemed to be of a mind that Lily was no better than she should be, and had simply run off. But then I always reckon police is no better than they should be either. All the low sorts of people they mix with, I dare say. Stands to reason, don’t it?”

“I don’t know, Dora. I’ve never known any police.”

Breakfast was a formal and very grim affair. Even Dominic looked unusually glum. He and Papa departed for the day, and Emily and Mama went to the dressmaker’s for fittings. Sarah was in her room writing letters. Funny what an enormous correspondence she had. Charlotte could never find above two or three people to write to in a month.

It was half past eleven and Charlotte was painting surprisingly successfully, for the gray mood she was in, when Maddock knocked and opened the door.

“What is it, Maddock?” Charlotte did not look up from her palette. She was mixing a muted sepia for leaves in the distance, and wished to get it exactly right. She enjoyed painting, and this morning it was particularly soothing.

“A person, Miss Charlotte, to see Mrs. Ellison, but since she is not in, he insisted on seeing someone.”

She abandoned the sepia.

“What do you mean, ‘a person,’ Maddock? What kind of a person?”

“A person from the police, Miss Charlotte.”

Fear rippled through Charlotte. It was real at last! Or were they come to complain about having been bothered over a domestic matter?

“Then you’d better show him in.”

“Do you wish me to remain, Miss, in case he becomes a nuisance? You can never tell with police persons. They are used to a different class of neighbourhood altogether.”

Charlotte would very much have liked his moral support.

“No, thank you, Maddock. But stay in the hall so I can call for you, please.”

“Yes, Miss.”

A moment later the door opened again.

“Inspector Pitt, ma’am.”

The man who came in was tall and looked large because he was untidy; his hair was unruly, and his jacket napped. His face was plain, a little Semitic, although his eyes were light and his hair no darker than brown. He appeared intelligent. His voice when he spoke was unusually beautiful, quite incongruous against his somewhat scruffy appearance. He looked Charlotte up and down keenly, irritating her already.