‘No!’ she shouted to the empty house. He was a brave man and would face anything he had to. But please God, don’t let him sink into apathy and despair. He had a right to a happy life!
At that moment there was a knock on the front door, and Winnie composed herself before seeing who was there.
‘Dora, come in. I was just about to make a pot of tea.’
She followed Winnie to the kitchen and sat at the table.
The tea was soon made, and Winnie asked, ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Has Stan mentioned a Doctor Burridge to you?’
‘No.’
It didn’t take Dora long to tell Winnie about her visit to the Wandsworth house, her expression animated. ‘This man’s doing everything he can to help those injured in the war, and I got the impression he would really like to see Stan.’
Winnie felt the tears gathering again. ‘If only he would go, but I know my brother, Dora, and he won’t even consider it. The only glimmer of hope is the promise I forced him to make. I made him write down that he’ll see a doctor when your mother’s been found, but he only said that to stop me fussing.’
‘That isn’t much help, because I don’t think she’s ever going to be found.’ Dora stifled a sigh, noting how distressed Winnie seemed. She would swear she had been crying. ‘Is there something else worrying you?’
‘I’ve just come back from Stan’s. He’s really down in the dumps, and I’ve never seen him this bad.’ Winnie wiped moisture from her eyes. ‘He said he hasn’t seen you or the children for a couple of days. Would you call in on your way home, please?’
‘Of course. But we haven’t been to see him because we decided we were putting too much strain on him. He has enough problems without shouldering ours as well.’
‘No, no, you mustn’t think like that,’ Winnie told her emphatically. ‘He loves seeing you all, and he’ll be anxious to know if you’ve managed to find a job. Knowing you have will cheer him up.’
‘It’s only four days a week and the pay isn’t much, but it is something I’d really like to do.’
Winnie poured them both another cup of tea. ‘You care about other people, don’t you, Dora? You should have trained to be a nurse, not gone into service.’
‘I wanted to.’ Dora shrugged. ‘But Mum didn’t like the idea. I don’t know why.’
‘That’s a shame. It isn’t too late to do it now.’
‘Yes it is. I’ve got Tom and Lily to look after and they come first. We’re on our own now, and it’s up to me to keep us together.’
‘You really do believe your mother isn’t coming back, don’t you?’
Dora nodded.
The determination in Dora’s eyes was clear, and Winnie’s respect for this charming girl grew. ‘You’re not completely on your own. We’re here for you if you need help.’
‘That’s kind of you, but we’ve got to make our own way in life. I don’t know why Mum’s disappeared, but obviously something’s very wrong, and I’m beginning to believe it might be better if we never know what’s happened. It’s clear she kept things from us. She may have felt she had good reasons for doing so, but I’m beginning to feel we never really knew her.’ Dora’s expression was grim as she stood up. ‘I’d better visit Stan and see if I can shake him out of his gloom.’
‘You’ll easily be able to do that.’ Winnie kissed Dora on the cheek. ‘Thank you, my dear.’
It was only five minutes’ walk to Stan’s, and Dora couldn’t get there fast enough. Winnie was very worried about her brother, and after listening to her, so was Dora. She would tell him about her job, and the amusing things, like the paint falling off the door when she knocked and the man who was hard of hearing. Perhaps she’d be able to make him smile.
The front door was open, but she knocked first.
‘Come in, Dora,’ he called. ‘Leave the door open.’
He was standing when she walked into the front room. ‘I’ve come to report progress.’
His expression lightened. ‘You’ve found a job?’
‘It’s only four days a week, but it should be interesting.’
‘That’s good news.’ Stan smiled then. ‘I’m not surprised you found something so soon. You look very smart.’
‘Thank you.’ She removed her hat, looking at it uncertainly before putting it on a chair. ‘These are Mum’s clothes. I suppose I shouldn’t be wearing them, but I need to make a good impression when I’m applying for work. They fit me, and Tom said I should make use of them. We can’t afford to spend money on clothes at the moment.’
‘You don’t have to make excuses to me, Dora,’ Stan said gently. ‘You’re doing the right thing. Now, sit down and tell me about your job.’
She explained about her visit to the house, and the state it was in, making him laugh. She didn’t mention the doctor, or what they did there. She didn’t want to say anything to make him depressed again. She could only imagine what kind of horrific time he must have faced after being injured. It was very clear that he didn’t want to go anywhere near a doctor again.
However, she knew she wasn’t going to get away with that for long when the questions came. ‘What are you going to do there?’
‘I’m not too sure yet, but they need help with the paperwork, and anything else that needs doing.’ She grinned. ‘My first task will be to paint the front door. It’s a disgrace.’
Stan looked disapproving. ‘They’ve asked you to do that?’
‘No, I volunteered. The place needs someone to care for it. The do—the man in charge is too busy.’
‘I see. What exactly do they do there?’
Dora knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer. ‘It’s a centre for injured ex-servicemen. The doctor’s trying to get them used to artificial limbs so they can walk again.’
There was silence, and Dora was sure she saw Stan flinch. ‘He’s a very caring man, Stan.’ She sat forward. ‘It’s appalling the way the servicemen have been abandoned since returning home. The doctor’s angry with that, and he’s trying to help as many as he can. They need encouragement, and to feel someone cares. If I didn’t need to earn money I would work for him for nothing.’
‘I know you would.’ Stan nodded. ‘How did you find out about it?’
‘We met a man in Regent’s Park yesterday and we shared our picnic with him. He was injured in the war, and he was on his own.’
‘What was his name?’
‘Alan Harrington.’
Stan gripped the arms of his chair, leant forward and demanded, ‘What did he look like?’
‘Nearly as tall as you, grey eyes, light brown hair, well educated—’
Stan surged to his feet with surprising speed, and Dora rushed to support him as he swayed alarmingly. ‘Whatever is the matter?’
‘You’ve just described Captain Alan Harrington. But he’s dead! I dragged him back to the trenches. He was dead, I was sure.’
‘Sit down.’ Dora urged him back in the chair. ‘It must be a different man. This Alan had lost part of his right leg, and his right hand.’
‘Oh God!’ Stan rested his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
Clasping his hand and holding on tightly, Dora knelt at the side of the chair and waited. She guessed he was reliving the horror of the war and needed time to recover.
After a couple of minutes he let out a ragged sigh, opening his eyes again. ‘I suppose it’s possible. I was injured soon after, and I was sure he was dead, so I didn’t make any enquiries about him. I want to see if it’s the same man. Is he at the house, Dora?’
‘I didn’t see him this morning.’ Dora stayed where she was, gazing at him in concern. ‘The men don’t stay there, they come in each day. They treat it as a kind of a club, I suppose. I’m going tomorrow, so I’ll ask about him.’
‘Please.’
Dora gazed up at Stan. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’
Releasing his hand from hers, he gently ran his fingers down the side of her face. ‘C
rafty move, Dora, but you know the answer to that!’
She smiled engagingly, relieved to see him back to normal again. ‘It was worth a try. Will you tell me what happened to you and Alan? Assuming it’s the same man, of course.’
He merely shook his head and changed the subject. ‘You haven’t asked me if there’s any news about your mother.’
Dora stood up. ‘There won’t be. She’s gone!’
‘You think she’s run away and left you?’ Stan asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Dora’s mouth set in a firm line. ‘I expect one day we’ll find out what’s happened, but I’ve made myself accept that she won’t be coming back to us. If I keep having sleepless nights fretting over where she might be, I’ll go mad. My brother and sister are the important ones now and I’ve got to do my best for them. Does that sound hard-hearted? I’m not unfeeling, but what will happen to Tom and Lily if I make myself ill by sinking into grief and confusion?’
Dora studied Stan’s face, her eyes troubled. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not alone. I’m here for all of you, no matter what happens.’
‘I know, and Winnie’s told me the same thing. It’s the one glimmer of comfort we have in this terrible situation.’
‘Dora!’ Lily called. ‘Are you in there?’
‘She’s here. Come in,’ Stan said.
Lily and Tom tumbled into the room.
The depression that had plagued Stan all day had melted away after a visit from the Bentley children. The only trouble was that he was now worried about Dora. It seemed as if she was shutting out the disappearance of her mother in her concern for her brother and sister. He could understand what she was doing, but he didn’t like it. By bottling everything inside her, she was in danger of eventually breaking.
Stan snorted in disgust. He was a fine one to talk! Wasn’t he the expert at sidestepping the facts?
There was a sharp rap on the door and Reg strolled in. ‘Missed you today, Stan. Not feeling too good?’
‘I don’t want to be always under your feet. You know where the whisky is.’
Reg poured two generous measures and sat down, raising his glass to his brother-in-law. ‘Thanks, I need this.’
‘Any progress?’
Stretching out his legs, Reg took a mouthful of the drink. He remained silent.
Stan eyed him carefully. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘What was that?’
‘You know very well! What’s going on, Reg?’
‘This name Duval has cropped up again. But it can’t have any connection to Mrs Bentley.’
His drink forgotten, Stan leant forward. ‘Tell me.’
‘Got a report from Bloomsbury station. A woman reported that she hasn’t seen her neighbour, Mrs Duval, for over a week. The local police forced open the door of the flat but found nothing suspicious. In their opinion the woman’s gone away on holiday or something like that. They only told us because we’ve put out a request for any information about the names of Duval and Bentley.’
‘Bloomsbury, that’s a nice area.’ Stan looked doubtful. ‘Most unlikely it’s anything to do with our case.’
‘I agree, but we must look into it. We’ve had bugger all to go on so far.’ Reg downed his whisky and reached for the bottle. ‘I haven’t mentioned any of this to Dora because it’ll probably turn out to be nothing. I’ve got permission to have a look at the flat and talk to the neighbour. I’m going tomorrow morning and I’d like you to come with me.’
‘Of course.’ Stan grinned, his depression a thing of the past. ‘I’ve been on plenty of wild goose chases before.’
Chapter Fourteen
Early the next morning, Stan, Reg and a constable from Bloomsbury station were standing in front of an impressive Georgian house.
‘It’s been turned into self-contained flats,’ the constable told them. ‘Very expensive.’
Reg nodded. ‘Have you had any news about the missing woman?’
‘No, and there’s nothing to indicate a crime of any kind. General opinion is the woman’s gone away for a few days and forgot to mention she was going. Her neighbour, Mrs James, is worried, though. Says it isn’t like her.’
‘I think we’re wasting our time,’ Stan remarked as he studied the elegant facade. ‘But we might as well have a look while we’re here.’
‘Second floor.’ The constable held a key in his hand. ‘We had to put a new lock on the door. Mrs Duval won’t be too pleased when she sees what we’ve done to the door, but the neighbour was insistent there was something wrong.’
They walked into a spacious hall and up the stairs. The carpet was dark red, and so thick it absorbed any sound.
‘Impressive,’ Reg muttered.
‘It is that.’ The constable stopped by a door clearly showing the signs of a forced entry. ‘Wait till you see the inside.’
Stan whistled softly when he saw the flat. You could have got the whole of his ground floor into the lounge area. The cream carpet, gold velvet curtains and sumptuously upholstered furniture wouldn’t have looked out of place in a palace. Not that he’d ever been in one, but this was how he imagined it would look.
‘My God!’ Reg came out of another door. ‘Have a look at the bedroom, Stan. There are real silk sheets on the four-poster bed!’
Stan went into the room and ran his fingers over the sheets, then turned and studied his surroundings thoroughly. The lounge had been tasteful and elegant, but this room was a different story. It was sensuous – there was no other word for it.
‘This isn’t anything to do with our missing woman, Stan.’ They went back into the lounge again just as a woman arrived.
‘Have you any news?’
‘I’m afraid not, madam,’ the constable told her. ‘These gentleman are looking for someone and wanted to see the flat.’
‘Can you tell us who the landlord is?’ Stan asked.
The woman looked down her nose at him, noting the crutches and then studying his face. ‘There isn’t a landlord, young man. These flats are all privately owned.’
Stan ignored her hostility and inclined his head. Just for a moment there her accent had slipped, and he had the feeling she wasn’t quite what she seemed. But perhaps he was being oversensitive. ‘And you are a friend of Mrs Duval?’
‘We know each other quite well. She wouldn’t have gone off without telling me.’
‘Is there a Mr Duval?’ Stan persisted, not prepared to give up yet.
‘No, but her friend was here two or three times a week.’
‘Do you know his name?’
The woman gave Stan an icy glare. ‘I’m not in the habit of prying into other people’s business, young man.’
Stan couldn’t let that go. ‘Business?’
The neighbour was looking exasperated at Stan’s questions. ‘She was a good hostess and entertained several times a week. I’ve already told the police all this!’
The photograph of Mrs Bentley was still in Stan’s pocket, so he took it out and showed it to Mrs James. ‘Is this Mrs Duval?’
She gave it a cursory glance and shook her head. ‘Mrs Duval is older than that and always dresses in the height of fashion. No, she isn’t that dowdy person.’
Another dead end, Stan thought as he put the photo back in his pocket. He turned to the constable. ‘Can we search the place?’
‘Already been done. My instructions are just to let you see the place and speak to Mrs James.’ The constable consulted his watch. ‘I’ve got to get back to the station now.’
After thanking the neighbour and the constable, Stan and Reg headed back to Kilburn station on the train. Reg was wearing his ordinary clothes for this trip. They had been told to attract as little attention as possible in such an elite area.
‘You were right last night, Stan. This was a wild goose chase.’
‘I agree, but I wish we could have searched the place.’
&
nbsp; ‘Not our patch. We were lucky they even let us into the flat. Anyway, I’m convinced this has got nothing to do with our investigation.’ Reg grinned. ‘What a place! Makes you wonder what kind of entertaining went on here. And wasn’t the neighbour offended when you asked who the landlord was!’
‘These flats are all privately owned!’ Stan mimicked. They were both laughing as they walked back into the station.
‘You staying for a while?’ Reg asked as they grabbed themselves cups of tea.
‘Might as well.’
‘Good, you can write the report for me. You always were good with words.’
Stan accepted gladly. He was struggling with the desire to go to where Dora was working and see if he could track down Alan. Lord, that had been a shock. He had liked the captain, and he hoped he had survived. Dora had said she would find out where he lived, so he would leave it to her. Once he had an address, he’d go and see him.
‘You haven’t told me your name.’ Dora paused, paintbrush in her hand.
‘Eh?’
‘Your name?’
‘Dobbs.’ He tipped his head to one side and studied the door. ‘Bit bright, ain’t it?’
Dora stepped back to get a better view. She had asked for blue, but the paint the doctor had left for her was more of a sea green. ‘Maybe, but I think it’s quite nice.’
‘Hmph!’ Dobbs clearly wasn’t impressed. ‘The doc won’t be here till this afternoon. He said you’d help me tidy my room.’
‘I’ve nearly finished the painting. Give me ten minutes.’
‘Eh?’
‘I said, I’ll be ten minutes.’
‘Hard work, isn’t he?’
‘John! The doctor won’t be here until later.’
‘I know, I’m early. Nothing else to do. Let’s go and see if Dobbs will make us a pot of tea, shall we?’
Dobbs was obviously used to this routine because the kettle was already boiling. Two more men had arrived, Charlie and Pete, and tossing everything into the corner of the room they cleared enough chairs to sit on.
Diamonds in the Dust Page 11
