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‘Mr Narraway believes that the cause of the problem lies in an old case that happened twenty years ago in Ireland. He is going back there to find his enemy and try to prove his own innocence.’

‘But Mr Pitt won’t be there to ’elp ’im,’ Gracie pointed out. ‘’Ow can ’e do that by ’isself? Don’t this enemy know ’im, never mind that ’e’ll expect ’im ter do it?’ She looked suddenly quite pale, all the happy flush gone from her face. ‘That’s just daft. Yer gotter tell ’im ter think’afore ’e leaps in, yer really ’ave!’

‘I must help him, Gracie. Mr Narraway’s enemies in Special Branch are Mr Pitt’s as well. For all our sakes, we must win.’

‘Yer goin’ ter Ireland? Yer goin’ ter ’elp ’im. .?’ She reached out her hand, almost as if to touch Charlotte’s where it lay on the table, then snatched it back self-consciously. She was no longer an employee, but it was a liberty too far, for all the years they had known each other. She took a deep breath. ‘Yer ’ave gotta!’

‘I know. I mean to,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘But since Mrs Waterman has walked out — in disgust and outraged morality, because Mr Narraway was alone in the parlour with me after dark — I have to find someone to replace her before I can leave.’

A succession of emotions passed across Gracie’s face: anger, indignation, impatience and a degree of amusement. ‘Stupid ol’ ’ap’orth,’ she said with disgust. ‘Got minds like cesspits, some o’ them ol’ vinegar virgins. Not that Mr Narraway don’t ’ave a soft spot for yer, an’ all.’ The smile lit her eyes for an instant, then was gone again. She might not have dared say that when she worked for Charlotte, but she was a respectable married woman now, and in her own kitchen, in her own house. She wouldn’t have changed places with the Queen — and she had met the Queen, which was more than most could say.

‘Gracie, Emily is away and so is my mother,’ Charlotte told her gravely. ‘I can’t go and leave Jemima and Daniel until I find someone to look after them, someone I can trust completely. Where do I look? Who can recommend someone without any doubt or hesitation at all?’

Gracie was silent for so long that Charlotte realised she had asked an impossible question.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘That was unfair.’

The kettle was boiling and began to whistle. Gracie stood up, picked up the cloth to protect her hands, and pulled it away from the heat. She swilled a little of the steaming water around the teapot to warm it, emptied it down the sink, and then made the tea. She carried the pot carefully over to the table and set it on a metal trivet to protect the wood. Then she sat down again.

‘I can,’ she said.

Charlotte blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I can recommend someone,’ Gracie said. ‘Minnie Maude Mudway. I knowed ’er since before I ever met you, or come to yer ’ouse. She lived near where I used ter, in Spitalfields, just round the corner, couple o’ streets along. ‘Er uncle were killed. I ’elped ’er find ’oo done it, ’member?’

Charlotte was confused, trying to find the memory, and failing.

‘You were riding the donkey, for Christmas,’ Gracie urged. ‘Minnie Maude were eight then, but she’s growed up now. Yer can trust ’er, ’cos she don’t never, ever give up. I’ll find ’er for yer. An’ I’ll go ter Keppel Street meself an’ check on them every day.’

Charlotte looked at Gracie’s small, earnest face, the gently steaming teapot and the home-made cake with its rich sultanas, the whole lovingly immaculate kitchen.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘That would be excellent. If you call in every day then I shan’t worry.’

Gracie smiled widely. ‘Yer like a piece o’ cake?’

‘Yes, please,’ Charlotte accepted.

By three o’clock in the afternoon, Charlotte was already packed to leave with Narraway on the train the following morning, should it prove possible after all. She could not settle to anything. One moment she wanted to prepare the vegetables for dinner, then she forgot what she was intending to cook, or thought of something else to pack. Twice she imagined she heard someone at the door, but when she looked there was no one. Three times she went to check that Daniel and Jemima were doing their homework.

Then at last the knock on the door came, familiar in the rhythm, as if it were a person she knew. She turned and almost ran to open it.

On the step was Gracie, her smile so wide it lit her whole face with triumph. Next to her stood another young woman, several inches taller, slender, and with unruly hair she had done her best to tame, unsuccessfully. But the thing that caught Charlotte’s attention was the intelligence in her eyes, even though now she looked definitely nervous.

‘This is Minnie Maude,’ Gracie announced, as if she were a magician pulling a rabbit out of a top hat.

Minnie Maude dropped a tiny curtsy, obviously not quite sure enough to do it properly.

Charlotte could not hide her smile — not of amusement, but of relief. ‘How do you do, Minnie Maude? Please come in. If Gracie has explained my difficulty to you then you know how delighted I am to see you.’ She opened the door wide and turned to lead the way. She took them into the kitchen because it was warmer, and it would be Minnie Maude’s domain, if she accepted the position.

‘Please sit down,’ Charlotte invited them. ‘Would you like tea?’ It was a rhetorical question. One made tea automatically.

‘I’ll do it,’ Gracie said instantly.

‘You will not!’ Charlotte told her. ‘You don’t work here, you are my guest.’ Then as she saw the startled look on Gracie’s face. ‘Please,’ she added.

Gracie sat down suddenly, looking awkward.

Charlotte set about making the tea. She had no cake to offer, but she cut lacy-thin slices of bread and butter, and there was fine-sliced cucumber and hard-boiled egg. Of course there was also jam, although it was a little early in the afternoon for anything so sweet.

‘Gracie tells me that you have known each other for a very long time,’ Charlotte said as she worked.

‘Yes, ma’am, since I were eight,’ Minnie Maude replied. ‘She ’elped me when me uncle Alf were killed, an’ Charlie got stole.’ She drew in her breath as if to say something more, and then changed her mind.

Charlotte had her back to the table, hiding her face and her smile. She imagined that Gracie had schooled Minnie Maude well in not saying too much, not offering what was not asked for.

‘Did she also explain that my husband is in Special Branch?’ she asked. ‘Which is a sort of police, but dealing with people who are trying to cause war and trouble of one sort or another to the whole country.’

‘Yes, ma’am. She said as ’e were the best detective in all England,’ Minnie Maude replied. There was a warmth of admiration in her voice already.

Charlotte brought the plate of bread and butter over, and set it on the table.

‘He is very good,’ she agreed. ‘But that might be a slight exaggeration. At the moment he has had to go abroad on a case, unexpectedly. My previous maid left without any notice, because she misunderstood something that happened, and felt she could not stay. I have to leave tomorrow morning very early, because of another problem that has arisen.’ It sounded peculiar, even to her own ears.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Minnie Maude nodded seriously. ‘A very important gentleman, as Gracie speaks very ’ighly of too. She said as someone is blaming ’im fer summink as ’e didn’t do, an’ you’re going to ’elp ’im, ’cos it’s the right thing ter do.’

Charlotte relaxed a little. ‘Exactly. I’m afraid we are a household of unexpected events, at times. But you will be in no danger at all. However, your job will involve considerable responsibility, because although I am here most of the time, I am not always.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I bin in service before, but the lady I were with passed on, an’ I in’t found a new place yet. But Gracie said as she’ll come by every day, just ter make certain as everything’s all right, like.’ Minnie Maude’s face was a little tense, her eyes never leaving Charlotte’s face.