Flora's Secret

by Anita Davison

  ‘Ooh, yes.’ He took the magazine from her and settled in an armchair in the sitting room with a glass of lemonade beside him.

  ‘I’m not sick, Flora,’ he had offered in protest to her suggestion he read the story in bed.

  ‘You won’t go off again without telling someone, will you, Eddy?’ she called to him through the open door while pulling the pins from her hair. ‘I know you were fine this time, but I cannot ask Mr Hersch, Bunny or Gerald to come running after you. We might not find you so quickly another time.’

  ‘There won’t be a next time, Flora, I promise,’ Eddy said with a sigh. ‘And it wasn’t exactly quick, either. I was banging on the door for ages and ages.’

  ‘I know you think I’m fussing, but I only want to keep you safe.’

  ‘I’ll tell you in future,’ Eddy mumbled only just loud enough to hear. ‘You don’t have to keep going on about it.’

  Satisfied, she closed the bedroom door, went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. As hot water gushed into the small tub, she threw a generous handful of lavender crystals provided by the steamship company into the water.

  She allowed the water to sooth her tense muscles until her fingers started to wrinkle. Once dried, dressed and with her hair carefully pinned up again, she emerged into the sitting room.

  ‘You must be enjoying that story, Eddy, you’ve been very quiet. Would you like-’ she broke off. The room was empty, the magazine lying open on the cushion.

  ‘Eddy?’ She checked his room but he wasn’t there either.

  A familiar rush of dread squeezed a groan through her lips, just as she spotted a sheet of white paper on the bureau by the door, the words. ‘Gone to see Matilda with Ozzy,’ his name scrawled at the bottom then in smaller script. ‘This is to tell you where I am.’

  Sighing, she grabbed a shawl to ward against the Atlantic winds and stepped out onto the promenade deck, where she was drawn to the rail by the clatter of footsteps and a baritone shout alerting her to a commotion on the saloon deck below.

  ‘Come back here!’ Bunny’s voice called, just as Eddy appeared, running full pelt from beneath the superstructure, followed by Ozzy. Bunny gave chase, but collided with a strolling couple, and halted to apologize. By the time he had disengaged himself and moved on, the boys had disappeared. He raised a hand to his forehead and scanned the deck, then dropped both arms to his sides in resignation, turning back in the direction he had come.

  Flora groaned, pushed away from the rail and descended to the deck where Bunny stood beside Matilda, the canvas pulled aside, and the ropes holding it secure lying like coiled flat snakes on the deck.

  ‘Young rascals,’ Bunny muttered. Having discarded his jacket on the bonnet he was in the process of rolling up his shirtsleeves.

  ‘I take it you mean Eddy and Ozzy?’ Flora said, reaching him. ‘I’m so sorry, I cannot believe after what happened not two hours ago that he’s up to mischief again.’

  ‘Escaped again did he?’ Bunny pushed a casual hand through his fair hair and grinned at her over one shoulder. ‘I caught them playing inside, so chased them off.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I thought he was still in the suite but he crept out leaving a note. Though he knows better than to go near Matilda unless you are with him.’

  ‘Still getting yourself into a state about boyish antics, eh?’ Bunny teased, nudging her gently.

  ‘Don’t tease me. I cannot help worrying about him. Someone must have known he was in that dark room, what with it being so small, they couldn’t have missed him.’

  ‘Stop worrying about it, I used to do far worse than that when I was his age.’ Bunny applied a spanner to a nut somewhere beneath the bonnet. ‘I climbed a flagpole once, nearly killed myself getting down again.’

  ‘I can’t stop worrying. Suppose someone does wish him harm?’

  ‘We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.’ He nodded to the motor car. Anyway, this wasn’t your fault either. I suspect Ozzy was the ringleader in this case, and boys, as they say, will be boys.’

  Flora cast a critical eye over the gleaming yellow paintwork, but nothing stood out as a source of Bunny’s annoyance other than the disarranged cover. ‘Have they done any damage?’

  ‘A few footprints on the seats and sticky marks on the steering wheel.’ He bent to peer inside. ‘I cleaned all this earlier. Now I shall have to do it again.’

  A movement from the corner of Flora’s eye drew her gaze to where the boys hovered twenty feet away. When they saw her watching, they ducked behind a corner.

  ‘I can see you there!’ Flora called in her best governess tone. ‘Now both of you, come out and apologize to Mr Harrington.’

  Eddy shuffled forward. ‘We didn’t mean any harm, honestly.’

  ‘It wasn’t us, Miss Maguire,’ Ozzy insisted, displaying the indignation of a child unaccustomed to being chastised. ‘The ropes were already undone when we got here.’

  ‘The cover had been pulled back too,’ Eddy added.

  ‘Even so.’ Flora glared at them. ‘Neither of you should have—’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Bunny cut across her. ‘I checked the canvas before luncheon, everything was secure then.’

  ‘The door on the driver’s side was open as well.’ Eddy’s courage returned and he crept closer.

  ‘You’re sure about that?’ Bunny asked, frowning. ‘This was how it was when you arrived?’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ both boys chorused.

  Flora didn’t know Ozzy well enough to judge his character accurately. Eddy, on the other hand, was more easily read, and she was sure he was being truthful.

  ‘Well, if you didn’t unwrap it, who did?’ Bunny murmured, mostly to himself.

  ‘Ah, got the motor out, I see.’ Gerald called as he strolled towards them, resplendent in a white blazer, his straw hat tipped back on his head. Oblivious of Bunny’s concerned frown, and the boys’ subdued faces, he circled the contraption with an appraising eye, peering through the windows. ‘I think I’ll buy myself one of these when I get home. You don’t see many in Reigate.’

  ‘Oh, Papa, that would be super!’ Ozzy threw Eddy a triumphant look.

  ‘Actually I didn’t,’ Bunny said, resigned. ‘Though it appears someone did.’

  Gerald eyed his son knowingly. ‘Have you been messing about where you weren’t supposed to, son?’ He placed his hands on his hips and glowered in mock sternness, though his eyes glinted with the amused pride at his son’s capacity for mischief. ‘I’m surprised at you young man.’ he ruffled Eddy’s hair. ‘Getting into mischief so soon after your adventure.’

  ‘I wasn’t much.’ Eddy poked the toe of his shoe against a wheel. ‘And we weren’t doing anything wrong, sir.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you saw anyone loitering about here earlier, did you, Gerald?’ Bunny asked.

  ‘I’ve been with Monica in our suite.’ Gerald shook his head. ‘I’ve not been near.’

  ‘We didn’t do anything!’ Eddy protested, his pleading look going from Bunny to Gerald and back again.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean.’ Flora silenced him with a glare. ‘And leaving me notes won’t get you out of trouble either. Not after what we discussed.’

  ‘Don’t be angry with him, Flora,’ Bunny interrupted gently, adjusting his glass which had dropped on his nose. ‘I’m probably overreacting. It’s just that these machines are rare and jolly expensive. There’s always the fear my competitors might try to beat me to the English market by sabotaging this model and ruining my future plans.’

  ‘Oh,’ Flora said, dismayed. ‘I didn’t think of that.’ First murderers on board, disappearing schoolboys and now saboteurs. How had she had imagined this voyage would be uneventful?

  A few feet away Gerald had engaged both boys in a play fight that elicited frowns from some passengers who strolled in pairs along the deck, while others directed indulgent smiles at the game. He feigned surrender when Eddy sprang at him, then launched a half-hearted attack with one arm. Ozzy
pitched in, brandishing a short wooden stick.

  Flora watched, resigned, as Eddy threw himself into the game with enthusiasm. He didn’t appear to have been affected by his brief imprisonment in the darkroom earlier. She wished he wasn’t so ready to jump into the next adventure, but without frightening him, how could she prevent it? That’s what boys were like and truth be told she wouldn’t want him to be anything else, though at the same time it made her realize how vulnerable that made him.

  ‘Now, you two.’ Gerald broke off to wink at Bunny before addressing the boys. ‘If Flora will allow, what say we study the form before the horse racing? Might even win a couple of bob, eh?’

  ‘With all that’s happened I had forgotten about the racing.’ Flora sighed, looking to where the crew had begun setting up the ropes at the other end of the deck.

  Bunny grunted something unintelligible, muffled by the fact he was now bent double with his top half tucked inside the vehicle. He backed out and straightened. ‘I had better get her wrapped up again first, then I’ll join you.’

  ‘See you there then.’ Gerald wrapped an arm round each of the boys and guided them along the deck. ‘Thinking again, Flora?’ Bunny eased to her side as he wiped his grubby hands on a cloth.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not important.’ She chewed her bottom lip. ‘Actually it is. Eddy slipped out when I wasn’t looking. He left me a note, so I know he was trying to be considerate, but he has no idea how dangerous going off on his own could be. I can’t lock him up in the suite until we dock, so what do you suggest?

  ‘Er- I meant to tell you before, but I slipped a few dollars to one of the stewards to keep an eye on him.’ He cocked his chin at a young officer who hovered beside a winch. ‘That chap there. He’s very conscientious.’

  ‘You did that?’ She turned to stare at him, opened mouthed? ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I took that threat you received seriously. And I saw how frantic you were when Eddy went missing earlier.’

  ‘That-that’s really kind of you. I wish I had thought of it myself.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ He grinned, evidently pleased with himself. ‘It wasn’t entirely altruistic. If you felt Eddy was safe, you could spend more time in my company. I take it you’ve heard no more from our mysterious man?’

  ‘No, nothing.’ Touched by his thoughtfulness, guilt stabbed at her for her ridiculous jealousy earlier. ‘Perhaps we should ask him what the boys did to your motor car.’

  ‘Eddy was telling the truth. They didn’t do anything.’ She turned back to where he stood in his shirtsleeves. ‘By the way, speaking of adventures, have you given any thought as to why Max was on deck yesterday in that storm?’

  ‘It happened too fast for me to think anything. I was too busy trying to grab him before he was sucked under the rail.’

  She tugged one end of the canvas sheet while he did the other. ‘A gale is blowing, waves are breaking over the deck strong enough to knock someone off their feet. The luncheon bugle went five minutes before, but instead of using the interior corridors to get to the dining room, Max is outside, working his way between the winch lines in the other direction. Where was he going?’

  ‘Give me a clue.’

  ‘Think about it.’ She slanted a sideways look at him. ‘What is of interest on deck other than this?’ She nodded at the motor car.

  ‘Matilda?’ He shrugged. ‘It’s possible, but she’s been here under canvas all week. You cannot be sure that’s where he was headed.’

  ‘No. Which is why I intend to ask him.’

  ‘But what about the horse racing? I thought-’

  ‘They haven’t finished arranging the deck yet, so I’ve got enough time before it starts. Keep me a seat will you?’ She aimed a brief wave in his direction and headed for the outside companionway up to the promenade deck.

  *

  ‘How nice of you to come,’ Cynthia greeted Flora at the door to the Cavendishes’ suite. ‘Max is still a bit groggy from the sedative the doctor gave him, but he’s more comfortable today.’ Her overly cheerful voice continued into their bedroom where Max sat propped against a pile of pillows. Garbed in a gaudy silk bed jacket over striped pyjamas, a wide bandage circled his head, and his left arm tightly wrapped in a sling. Though his youthful pink plumpness had not yet returned, the deathly pallor which had driven Cynthia into hysterics had disappeared.

  ‘I’m so glad you weren’t badly hurt, Max.’ Flora took the chair tucked into the narrow space at the side of the bed.

  ‘Thanks to Harrington.’ Max attempted a laugh that was cut off by a wince. ‘Shoulder's deuced sore, but I’m on the mend.’ He reached for a glass of water at his elbow, but before his hand connected with the glass, Cynthia grabbed it and held it to his mouth.

  ‘C’mon, old girl, I’m not an invalid.’ He grimaced and pushed her hand away.

  ‘I keep thinking that you could have been killed!’ she said, though there was no real emotion behind them. In fact she sounded angry and her eyes remained dry.

  ‘Well I wasn’t, so stop fussing.’ His sharp retort softened by a brief caress of her cheek.

  ‘It’s all so awful. I wish this business was over with.’

  ‘What business is that?’ Flora asked, still perplexed about how either of them were really feeling. Cynthia played the part of a distraught wife to perfection, but her eyes said something else. Max seemed irritable, even worried, his gaze darting the room.

  ‘I meant this voyage of course,’ Cynthia said quickly. ‘The honeymoon, everything which sets us apart as a focus of common gossip. I want to get back to being simply Mrs Maximilian Cavendish.’

  ‘It must have been terrifying for you, Max,’ Flora said. ‘Whatever made you go out in that storm must have been important.’

  ‘Yes, Max.’ A tiny crease appeared between Cynthia’s perfectly plucked brows. ‘You never did tell me what you were doing out there in that storm.’

  Max split a look between them, and eased upright against his pillows. ‘Actually, Cyn. I would really love some tea. I’m sure Flora would too. Would you oblige, Darling?’

  Flora was about to refuse, but his imploring look changed her mind. ‘Er – yes, that would be very nice, thank you.’

  ‘I’ll summon a steward.’ Cynthia nodded, rising.

  ‘Actually, Cyn,’ Max halted her at the door, ‘Gerald borrowed my copy of The Invisible Man. He’s an H.G. Wells enthusiast, apparently. Would you slip along to fetch it for me? I could do with something to read.’

  ‘You didn’t answer her question,’ Flora said when they were alone.

  ‘It was an accident.’ A raised vein pulsed in his temple and he refused to meet her eye. ‘I went for a stroll and misjudged the severity of the wind.’

  ‘The crew had issued a storm warning, and ordered us all inside. Why did you take such a risk?’

  ‘I’m aware this voyage has been difficult for everyone, what with two deaths.’ He gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘But you shouldn’t read something into it.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I?’ Flora waited. His eyes still roamed the room, full of angst. Even Eddy was more expert at dissembling than this man.

  ‘Look, Flora.’ He plucked at the bedclothes with his uninjured hand. ‘You ought not to involve yourself in this business.’

  ‘I am involved,’ Flora said. ‘I found Eloise’s body.’ The words were out before she could stop them.

  ‘I-I had no idea.’ His head jerked round and he met her gaze. ‘I was told one of the housekeeping staff found her.’

  ‘That’s what Mr Hersch wants everyone to think.’ Flora fidgeted, regretting her impulse. For all she knew, Max could be guilty. Then her gaze strayed to the sling and she changed her mind. ‘I’ve already been threatened to keep my mouth shut, but things have gone too far.’

  ‘Threatened?’ His eyes hardened. ‘By whom?’

  ‘That’s just it, I don’t know.’ Her stomach tightened as she spoke of something she thought she had suppressed until now. ‘Look, I hadn’
t known Eloise long, but I was fond of her. Do you have any idea who killed her?

  ‘Why should I know that?’ He slapped the coverlet. ‘In fact I wish I didn’t know anything at all.’

  ‘If it’s something which would help the investigation, you must tell Mr Hersch.’

  ‘Hah! Hersch. He’s still trying to run things, is he?’ His show of temper turned to derision. ‘I would have thought he would have given up by now with his target dead.’

  ‘Who would that be? Parnell or Eloise?’ What did he meant by a target? Had Eloise been right in that Hersch was working for the van Elder lawyers? Had he been about to expose her as a murderess?

  ‘Eloise Lane wasn’t her real name,’ he said, his eyes widening slightly when Flora didn’t react. ‘You knew?’

  She nodded, but offered no explanation. He wasn’t the only one who could be enigmatic.

  ‘Did you kill Mr Parnell, or should I say Marlon van Elder?’ Flora blurted, aware Cynthia would be back any moment.

  ‘Where did you hear that name?’ His eyes narrowed as he searched her face, but when she didn’t answer he turned away in disgust. ‘Of course I didn’t kill him,’ he snapped. ‘That fool died falling down those steps. Probably drunk, knowing him.’

  ‘But you did know him?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. I knew of him.’

  ‘I’m getting tired of all these short answers, Max. What aren’t you telling me?’ She suspected a lot, but how to make him reveal it before Cynthia came back? ‘What relation was he to Theo, Eloise’s husband?’

  ‘Be careful, Miss Maguire.’ A flash of anger entered his eyes, turning them from vacuous blue to cloudy grey. ‘Your meddling might cause more harm than you imagine.’

  The door sucked open and Max expelled a relieved breath.

  ‘Here you are, darling.’ Cynthia set a loaded tray on the nightstand, her manicured fingers darting amongst the china like butterfly wings. ‘Monica couldn’t find your book at first, but it seems Ozzy had it under his pillow.’ She placed a green leather bound volume at his elbow, handed Flora a full cup then tipped three sugar lumps into Max’s cup before placing it in his hand,