‘The majority of people resent being followed, child, and most of them are nervous about it, I believe. I’ll tell you what. You and I must take an early morning walk, and see whether we can find out where he went. Would you care to come with me? – If so, when?’
‘First thing to-morrow, I should think,’ said Alice, gaining heart again in the undertaking.
‘To-morrow? Right. I wonder when Laura will get back, and with what tidings?’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘Something very strange must have happened for Connie to have run off like that. I think I can guess what it was, but time will show. And now this boy . . . I wonder how long he has been dead?’
Chapter Eleven
‘On my word, Master, this is a gallant Trout, what shall we do with him?’
SIR IZAAK WALTON (The Compleat Angler)
LAURA returned at six next day with a very unwilling Connie. They had read in the early editions of the evening paper of the discovery of the body at the weir. Mrs Bradley had been on the telephone to Scotland Yard, the Tidsons were in their room, and the only person to see the two girls arrive was Thomas, who met them in the vestibule.
‘Where’s everybody, Thomas?’ enquired Laura.
Thomas gave her a brief theory of his own:
‘I’ll be thinking they are all getting through the time, Miss Menzies; just getting through the time, as ye might say.’
‘That’s his delicate way of saying they’re all in a queue for the bathrooms, I suppose,’ said Laura. ‘Come on. We’d better follow suit. There isn’t too much time if you’re going to unpack as well.’
‘I’m not going to unpack. I’m not going to stay,’ said Connie. ‘I can’t spend another night here. It isn’t safe. I keep telling you. Why won’t you believe me?’
‘Bless you, duck, I believe every syllable you utter. But you don’t avoid peril by running away and being followed. Face it, and have it out, that’s my idea. Besides, Mrs Croc. will want to talk to you.’
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Bradley. So come on up, and I’ll find out whether she can see us.’ She collared the reluctant Connie and bundled her up the stairs.
Mrs Bradley invited them in. She was combing her hair, and saw them first in the mirror.
‘Ah,’ she said, turning round. ‘Chiswick?’
‘Not quite. That Brown address on the Great West Road,’ said Laura. ‘She says – here, you go on,’ she added, turning to Connie. Connie gave way before two pairs of anxious eyes.
‘We let it,’ said Connie. ‘The flat, I mean. My aunt does. The name of the tenant is Brown, but he’s in Manchester part of the time. He’s in Manchester now, and I knew I could hide in the flat until he came back. That’s why I went. I knew he wouldn’t mind, and when he comes back—’
‘Nonsense!’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘Don’t tell me lies. There is no tenant named Brown. Whose is the flat?’
‘It belongs to Uncle Edris, I think,’ said Connie. ‘He wrote the letter about the naiad from there. I thought I could hide there for the time. I knew he’d be staying on here, and I begin my new job next month, and then I—’
‘Where did you spend last night?’ asked Mrs Bradley. ‘And what made you leave this place so late at night?’
Connie looked frightened and did not answer.
‘Ah,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘Well, never mind. We shall find these things out in good time. How long did you propose to remain in Chiswick?’
‘Hardly any time,’ said Connie quickly. ‘I’ve been asked to live in at my job. I – if it weren’t for Uncle Edris I should have lived in the West End in a mews.’
‘Expensive, in these days, surely?’
‘I was going to share with three friends.’
‘A commodious sort of mews,’ said Laura, grinning. ‘How many rooms? – Oh, sorry! Not my cue.’
‘Well, that explains all that,’ said Mrs Bradley, speaking, her acute and intelligent secretary thought, in some haste. ‘Laura, go off and get ready for dinner. Now, child,’ she added kindly to Connie when Laura had gone, ‘suppose you sit down in that armchair whilst I finish my hair, and explain to me why you ran away.’
‘I was afraid of the Tidsons,’ said Connie with simplicity.
‘Both of them?’
‘Yes. They pumped me about my parents. I didn’t like it.’
‘What did they want to know?’
‘The usual things. Whether my father had been rich, and who my mother’s people were, and whether I was related to auntie’s nephew Arthur, and how long I had been living with auntie, and whether she had adopted me legally – that sort of thing. I thought it was beastly cheek. It certainly was no concern of theirs.’
‘I can see why it annoyed, but not why it frightened you, child.’
‘Perhaps I’ve been silly over that, but, ever since the ghost, I’ve felt them conspiring against me. Oh, I know you’re a psychiatrist, and that you’ve got all sort of weird names for people who think they’re being followed and persecuted and all that, but it isn’t my being crazy, honestly it isn’t! They’re dead against me, I know they are! And they’re sponging on poor Aunt Prissie all the time! They’re beasts! I hate and loathe them! I had Aunt Prissie first, and I mean to keep her, and I’m not going to stay any longer to play second fiddle to Crete Tidson, so nobody need expect it!’
‘I shouldn’t think anybody does expect it, though,’ said Mrs Bradley, her voice dropping like honey after this wild oration. Connie sat humped in the armchair, and stared miserably and resentfully out of the window.
‘That’s all you know!’ she rather rudely retorted.
‘No, it isn’t, quite,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘Come and do up these fasteners for me, there’s a good child.’
Connie got up and slouched over to where Mrs Bradley was standing. She looked sulky, but, as Mrs Bradley realized with pity, she was almost at the end of her nerves.
‘And now,’ said Mrs Bradley, kindly, but with the utmost decision, ‘I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay at my house, in the village of Wandles Parva, until you begin your new job. No one can get at you there. Would you like to go there to-night? If so, I will order a car. It is not above twenty miles from here, and no one except Laura Menzies – and I think you’ll agree that she can be trusted – knows anything about it or where it is.’
‘Oh, if only I could get away! Would there be people there? I mean, I couldn’t bear to be alone,’ said Connie, whose mind was as much (or as little) confused as this speech suggested.
‘There are my servants, and my chauffeur will be there. You’ll like George. A most sturdy fellow. Come downstairs with me, and we’ll send for him. That will be very much better than hiring a car.’
‘But I don’t want to stay here another minute! I don’t want to meet the Tidsons ever again! You don’t understand – I could never tell you the things he’s said to me!’
‘You shall not meet them again,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘You can wait in here instead of coming downstairs. When the car arrives – we shall all be at dinner, I should think – all you have to do is to answer Laura’s knock – three quick raps on your door – and take yourself off as fast as ever you can go. And you’d better not come back without sending me word.’
‘And you’ll let Aunt Prissie know? You won’t let her worry, will you? You’ll let her know I’m safe, but not where I’ve gone!’
‘I’ll reassure her. Don’t worry. George will bring the car to the hotel entrance at about a quarter to eight. We never finish dinner before eight, so that should allow you to be well away from here before we come out of the dining-room.’