“You were quite sure,” Norah says. “But ...”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I might have imagined it all?” I don’t tell her that I even suspected her of such atrocities. “It seems unlikely that she was out to kill me.”
“It does.”
“Lady Dornan, though, is a murderess,” I remember suddenly.
“She’s happily married now to a lord and there’s no reason to think she is anything sinister. She did her time in prison and I doubt she wants to go back.”
“Charlotte mightn’t even know of Lady Dornan’s past?”
“She might not. And even if she did it adds to the glamour. It strikes me that Charlotte might like that. Some people like surrounding themselves with criminal people.”
Norah moves off the couch and I hear sounds near the gramophone.
“How about a tune?” she asks.
“I have a confession to make,” I say towards the shelves of records. “I did worry that you might marry Freddie. I would have missed your company.”
She sighs heavily. “We waited and waited on an advertisement. It has been weeks since we started looking and even in the library archives we failed to find any mention of a Ravenscairn. There was no point in marrying a man if there was no Murdering Wives Club to join.” Norah laughs at that and I try to join her.
“So, Freddie’s bachelorhood was always going to be safe from ruin,” I say.
“And in any case I wouldn’t have been ‘married-married’ to him, thank goodness!” Norah confirms. “For General Ashfield is definitely a man that I would gladly murder.”
She’s joking and I enjoy her company, as I always have done. How did I think badly of my Norah? I want to sweep her up into a tight hug and a passionate kiss. I want to whisk her into my arms and tell her how I feel. But I don’t move. What if she rejects me again? I’m not sure I could take it. I’m feeling foolish enough. The chances are that she’ll tell me what I feel between us is all in my imagination as well. It is better to be safe than sorry.
I scratch at my beard instead and say, “I’m glad that we have made up our differences. I hate when we argue.”
“Giles said we were like an old married couple who bicker.” Norah laughs again. “But I’ll have to go soon. There’s no job for me here now. You’ve come a long way and are much better and my role here is not necessary anymore, is it?”
I’m going to lose Norah and every muscle freezes. She cannot go, but how do I make her stay? Do I want to make a show of myself and fawn over her and beg like a dog? I could gush undying love or admit that I’m far from ready to deal with my blindness unaided? Should she not say she wants to be here with me?
“I’ve been looking into getting another job and I may need to get a reference,” Norah says.
The time we kissed flashes into my mind. It seems like a lifetime ago. How do I make her stay? How do I mention that glorious time without making it sound like I have ulterior motives? But then I do have less than moral notions. I want Norah Walsh naked and under me so that I can make mad passionate love to her. Now. Say something, Laurie. For the love of God, man, tell her what you are feeling.
“Did you hear me, Laurie?” she asks quietly. “I'll need a reference, please. A good one? Even if you don’t mean it.”
“Of course I’ll give you an excellent recommendation,” I say with a heavy heart. “I would never have come through all of this without you. But I don’t want to give it to you if it means that you’ll leave Davenport Manor. Where will you go and what will I do without you?”
“The General said that he would help you come up with something. He also has promised to help me find something suitable. He’s not the worst friend, I suppose. In the meantime I want to go home to Ireland. This war is all getting a bit much.”
“Home?” I splutter. Norah will be miles and miles away and my heart won’t cope. “And can he help you get work there?”
“Good references even from English toffs will help me no matter where I end up,” Norah says.
“I thought you never wanted to go home?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Must have been something you said once upon a time.” Hoping we don’t start arguing again, I add, “Is there anything I could do to make you stay?”
“Try me with something, Laurie, and we’ll see if it works.”
I wish instantly that I knew what to say!
Chapter 37
Norah Walsh
Poor Laurie couldn’t think of anything to make me stay. He simply stared with those lost gorgeous eyes and offered me some more tea. I’m glad he didn’t manage to say what he was feeling – if he said he had feelings for me what would I have done?
Catholicism and the oppression I grew up with should have installed a more stoic attitude. But no! I’m a blubbering mess. Crying into handkerchiefs and snivelling into sleeves will only go unnoticed for so long. I stand and look out on the rain battering the gravel as the view from my favourite parlour window is as cloudy as the world seems.
“It’s all going well. Do not lose faith now,” Alice Longmire promises when we speak on the telephone.
I’m not sure how she considers a dead woman in a locked room in the middle of a military establishment a good thing. I was not an Eve Good supporter, but seeing her lifeless corpse was upsetting though there wasn’t any blood when I saw her. I don’t do blood very well. Never have! When I was a child I watched pigs get slaughtered and those sights were not nice at all.
“We are glad that you believe in honouring, serving and protecting your own.” Alice goes on with the great speech I’m sure she’s given many times to those she recruits.
I’ve always longed to hear about belonging to something powerful, and as she speaks I think of how I’ve felt drawn to something like the Sinful Roses all my life.
“The greater good,” Alice Longmire says.
I can hear how unafraid she is of authority and how self-assuredly she can swear to “sort things once and for all for women everywhere”.
I go along with the rhetoric.
“So,” she concludes, “we’ll be in touch.”
“But when?” I ask, alarmed. This is not good enough. I have no time to lose. And is she suspicious of me?
“Just wait.”
“But why the delay? You’d better remember that I came to the rescue. One good turn deserves another.”
“Don’t prod the bear while she’s sleeping,” she says. “We would have found Eve eventually.”
“You don’t even know what I want from you!”
“Look, we all know that you’ve found a taste for this work. We are in need of strong leadership now, Norah Walsh. Like some of us you’ve taken a shine to this way of life. We’re not just a murdering wives club. As you can imagine, Norah, we’re much more than that. We’ll be in touch. Until then, get some rest.”
As I put down the receiver, I should be exhilarated and happy, but all that I feel is a pang of love for Laurie Davenport.
Before I leave for London, I return to see Fredrick one last time. He’s in good humour and I hope that perhaps he’s in the mood to discuss my future in a sensible fashion.
“Suicide. Eve Good committed suicide,” he says, puffing on a cigar. “And Charlotte Davenport is back but getting a divorce. No dead husbands apart from the poor blighters on the front. Job done, Norah Walsh. I don't know why you insist on annoying me here though. Have you not had any luck with becoming the wife of Laurie Davenport?”
I feel that there’s a tiny hint of jealousy there but I shake my head and put us both out of our misery. “No. I’m leaving Davenport Manor. Now this is all over, the plan is to move on to better things. That is what I was promised.”
Fredrick smokes on. “The mission was to seduce Laurie.”
“Laurie is a good fellow,” I start to explain. “But after Charlotte he needs someone who is his equal and who can … I don’t know … be honest with him. I’m not that woman. Anyhow, I’v
e too much to do. Too much ambition.”
Fredrick shakes his finger. “No, Norah. No. From the day and hour you walked up to me at Wester’s I’ve told you that you cannot join the women at war here. Even British women with impeccable references and reasons for enlisting in the war effort don’t get in. You hate guns, blood and killing. You’ve not got the stomach for it! And you’re Irish! I won’t hear of it. Anyhow, aren’t you enjoying playing detective right here? I’ll not lie to Laurie if he asks me questions about what I know. Stop with these silly plans and go back to Laurie and fall into the role of being a good little wife. There’s a good girl.”
I slam the door on my way out. I want his head to be in the way and bash it, but he calls after me. “You’ll be a good wife, Walsh. You’ll be back.”
I’ve been used. The bastard never had any intention of letting me better myself. He used my ambition against me.
The only person who hasn’t taken advantage of me is Laurie, and I’ve taken advantage of his good nature. The tears come again. His fears and disability became a way for me to enhance my own situation. And now, he’s still in the same chair, in the same parlour and not able to even see his beautiful home. If Eve Good hadn’t spoken to us, she too might still be breathing. There’s a lot I will have to answer for at the Pearly Gates.
Chapter 38
Laurie Davenport
Giles opens the door, places the tea tray on my lap and clicks off the music of Nat King Cole. “I miss Norah,” I tell him. “It’s been almost a month and not a word from her. I know that you’re wonderful to me. But you’re not Norah.”
“I can try the Irish accent and wear strong perfume?” Giles places my hand on the china cup. “Can you manage from there, sir?”
“Thank you. But you might join me. There’s nothing worse than drinking tea alone.”
“Cook will have my hide but I’ll linger for one cup.”
We sip in silence for a time, him in his thoughts, me dreaming of Norah.
“Did Mrs Davenport get the divorce papers yet, sir?” Giles asks.
“Oh yes. Signed and all. We’re almost free of one another.”
“It took a long time to thrash out all the issues. It’s a good thing I’m a bachelor,” Giles muses and sips like a gentleman at his tea. “And there’s been no mention of your other worries at all now?”
“About her trying to kill me?” I ask. “No. None. How did you put up with me?”
Giles goes still.
“I must have been so hard to live with. Going on and on about her attempts on my life and then all that silly business with the criminal Eve Good, Ravenscairn and the Murdering Wives Club.”
“Was it a silly business, sir?” Giles says. “I did worry about you at the time but it was mainly because Mrs Davenport is well capable of all your accused her of. She is well capable of almost anything.”
I love that Giles stands up for me. He’s a true friend.
I want to tell him that but he adds, “What’s this you were saying about Ravenscairn?”
“That Norah and the General’s people were waiting to see an advertisement of a ‘Ravenscairn location’ in London or round about here. Apparently that was how murdering wives could contact the Sinful Roses and learn how to do it properly. Eve Good was a good storyteller. She somehow made the whole thing up so don’t trouble yourself about it.”
“Rightyo, sir.”
I go to put the music back on.
“And you think it was all for nothing?” Giles asks.
“Yes. It seems that way. Eve knew nothing of note.”
“What does General Ashfield think?”
“Norah said he was fine about it. Just glad that we’re all safe and sound. I think he was glad that he didn’t have to get married!”
“Ha!” Giles says. “And you were glad too I’d say, sir.”
“I was, I am,” I admit, picturing Norah lounging across my bed, her full lips ready to be kissed. “I didn’t want her to marry anyone else.”
“Or put herself in danger,” Giles says.
“That’s just it, there would have been no danger. There was no organisation to try to get into,” I explain slowly. I’m not sure what record is in my hands and it might be rude to ask Giles to read it for me for we’re still talking. I set it down.
“And Mrs Davenport knowing Lady Dornan was just a coincidence?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And what does the General think about that?”
I hear Giles pouring more tea. I should return and sit with the man when he is good enough to keep me company.
“Freddie? I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’ve not bothered him since Norah left. Not bothered him for over a month.”
“I think you should telephone General Ashfield though. If I were you I would get another man’s opinion on all of this.”
I sit with a flop. What on earth does he mean?
“I can tell by your face, sir, that you’re confused. I just wonder what the General thinks about you giving up on this entirely? You cannot return to your work and I thought you were making great headway even if it was with that godawful criminal woman. I thought maybe you could continue being a detective? You’ve gone back to your old depressed ways this past month. Perhaps ask for Norah to come back? Or ask for more of that type of work? It gave you a purpose. We all need that.”
“Have you forgotten that I’m blind? I had to leave the communication with the General to Norah,” I explain. “It’s another of my limitations. Calling someone is awkward. Perhaps we might practise.”
“Let’s do it this very minute.”
“Finish your tea,” I concede. “I have all day.”
I drink and think on Giles’ advice. I had made up my mind to make something of my future before Eve Good’s suicide, and things then snowballed. Being involved in the investigation helped me and I wasn’t bad at it. Perhaps I could ask Freddie to send Norah over, or ask him for seduction tips?
“Of course, I needed Norah to be effective in the work the General gave me. It stands to reason I’d give it up when she isn’t available.”
“I don’t see why, sir.”
“I’d need someone to take notes, to help me get about, to make telephone calls and the like ...” I stop and try to quell the sense of panic listing all the things I cannot do brings.
“You can overcome all of that,” Giles says. “Look how you move around this room unaided. Who would have thought you could do that? Also, a friend of mine has a son in medical school, and he says that there are many men coming back blinded and they’re putting programmes of learning together for them to help them rehabilitate.”
“I could try those, I suppose,” I say unenthusiastically. “Or I could find out where Norah is?”
“Is she gone for good?” Giles asks. “I ask because you’ve been listening to your music again and lingering in this chair. I know you have feelings for her and you should really do something to get her back.”
How do I describe to him how I fear failing yet again? How do I explain my worry that she’ll reject me? I shake my head. “I don’t know, Giles. I don’t know that I trust my feelings.”
“Don’t fret about it now. I just wondered what was what. Making conversation, if you like. You can talk to me, you know. I realise that I’m a servant but I promised your parents to always look after you and ...” his voice shakes, “and with you losing your sight, it has killed a little part of me too. I wish to help you in whatever way I can.”
I reach out for his arm and find his hand to squeeze. “Thank you. Norah has gone to see her family in Ireland. I don’t know how long for. I don’t think she’ll ever come back and that does make me very sad. She has asked me for references, but I’ve not written any. I don’t want her to leave.”
“You don’t want her to go for good.” Giles slaps my arm. “That’s good news. We’ll convince her to come home to Davenport.” He grips my hand but lets go of it before we lose sight of the stiff upper lip we
have. “You’ve not finished your tea but let’s telephone Fredrick Ashfield. It’s still hard to believe that snotty-nosed brat I remember ruining the roses is a general!”
Freddie’s secretary puts me through straight away.
“Was wondering when I’d hear from you,” he says gruffly, and then whispers, “And how is my fiancée?”
“Norah?”
“Who else?” he asks, fluttering papers near the receiver. “I know she thinks it’s all a wasted effort now that that bitch has done herself in and the women she mentioned seem clean as a whistle – but I don’t know – I told her something was definitely up there.”
I am astonished. “You did? She never told me that.”
“Really?”
“You do know she’s gone to see her family?”
“Yes. She asked. I agreed. Reluctantly. But she’ll be back, Laurie. She’s not gone for good.”
“Did she ask you for a reference?” I ask.
“She’s always threatening to leave the job. She and I argue like an old married couple but she never leaves. She has it too good here. Perhaps I’m slightly in love with her?”
“Really?” I gasp too loudly.
“I’m joking, Laurie,” Freddie says slowly. “I wanted to hear your reaction. You poor old sod. You do have it bad for her, then?”
“I suppose I have.” I want him to reiterate his lack of love for her again. I need to be sure he was joking. “I don’t know how to be with a woman now.”
“I bet you can’t, old boy,” Freddie whispers. “I look at them all and wonder if they might be one of these Sinful Roses.”
“Didn’t Norah say to you that we concluded that was all a ruse? That it was all a tall tale from Eve Good’s overactive imagination?”
“No. Miss Norah Walsh has said nothing of the sort. For she knows what I would say. Before you started your investigation, something or someone was killing men on home soil. And now it has all stopped.”
The Murdering Wives Club Page 21
