‘Humble folk,’ said Flora.
‘Oh, I say, I do apologise. That sounds awfully rude. But you know what I mean—rather smart, empty-headed misses, with nothing in their minds except parties and soirees and shopping.’
‘So I think if you class me among the humbler folk, I take that as a compliment.’ Flora had never learned to flirt with young men. She thought, it shows how much my life has changed that I find it quite easy.’
‘Where have you come from?’ he asked.
‘Not far away. I am housekeeper to my cousin, Miss Dunbar.’
‘I’ve heard of her. A recluse, isn’t she?’
‘No,’ said Flora rather sharply, ‘she is not a recluse. She cannot go out and about as she once did, but she is very alert and interested in all that happens.’
‘I beg your pardon,‘ said young Mr Chambers. ‘I shouldn’t have put it like that. I seem to put my foot in it whenever I open my mouth. But you know how people talk. And you yourself are a relative, I think you said?’
‘A distant cousin,’ said Flora. She felt a little sorry for this young man who clearly wasn’t any more at home in Mrs Philp’s pretentious gathering than she was herself. She looked closely at him, trying to sum him up. His best suit, she thought. Many of the young men were in evening dress. But not Mr Chambers. His suit was his only suit, for she noticed that the elbows were rubbed. So perhaps he worked in an office, rather like Will but probably in a more lowly position. Why had he been invited to this gathering? Because, she guessed, he might be useful in some way. His watch chain, she noticed, was not expensive - probably given him by a father or grandfather. What use could he be to Mrs Philp ?
‘I think, ‘ she said carefully, ‘that you and I have been invited not because we are friends of our hostess or likely to become friends.’
‘Heaven forbid,’ said the young man, then apologised instantly. ‘That was very rude of me. I am, after all, her guest.’
Flora giggled. She began to take to this young man with his habit of saying quite the wrong thing.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘that I have no tact. I always say the wrong thing.’
‘I had noticed,’ said Flora. Suddenly she smiled at him. ‘But it is most refreshing to find someone who says exactly what he thinks.’
‘Few people do,’ he said. ‘But it is apt to get you into trouble.’
‘In your job...?’ said Flora, prompting.
‘Sometimes,’ he agreed. ‘And it is all too easy to jump to the wrong conclusion about people if you have observed them even for a short time.’
‘We are not all as clever as Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ said Flora.
His face brightened. ‘You like the stories?’ he said. ‘The observation is wonderful—how he can deduce a man’s occupation and where he lives, just from noticing his hands or his way of speech.’
‘Tell me,’ said Flora impulsively, ‘what you have observed about me.’
‘That would be quite improper,’ he protested.
‘No, do go on. I like to observe people too. I wish I had been a man and I could perhaps have become a detective. But there, I suppose I’d be told that it isn’t a job for a lady. Now tell me what you have noticed about me.’
‘You are refreshingly outspoken,’ he said, ‘and so I conclude that you have not been brought up in the same circles as our hostess, but you have already told me you work as a housekeeper for Miss Dunbar. You are educated, you read the stories of Conan Doyle, so you are not a servant. I think you have probably lived with another family… where perhaps you were a companion? Your speech is softer than the East coast tongue, yet still of the West, so I deduce that you were born and raised in the West, say Ayrshire?’
Flora nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘You are not engaged to be married, and I deduce that you have no family apart from Miss Dunbar, so I assume that you have to earn your own living.’
‘Well done!’ Flora exclaimed, so that people round about turned and looked at her.
‘You are absolutely right.’ She explained that she had been born in Ayrshire, and how she had come to live with Aunt Mina, and her meeting with Cousin Chris.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Will deep in conversation with the girl in the yellow silk dress and the paradise plumes. But then she saw his aunt making her way across the floor. ‘You will excuse me,’ said Leonard Chambers hastily. ‘ I have things to attend to.’ He bowed and turned away. Mrs Philp, meantime, had caught hold of another guest.
Flora called after him. ‘Mr Chambers, I wonder if I was right in guessing your profession? I think you are a detective.’
He turned back, smiling at her. ‘You are absolutely right, Miss Douglas. Well done!’
‘In that case,’ said Flora, ‘do you mind if I ask your advice?’ He looked a little doubtful. ‘Oh, it isn’t a case for you,’ said Flora. ‘But I wondered—that is—I am trying to find out about someone who came to Edinburgh from Aberdeenshire. My cousin knew him many years ago. She is old now, and would like to find out where he is; indeed, if he is still alive. I have an address in Aberdeenshire, but that was from… oh, forty years ago.’
‘That shouldn’t be too hard,’ said the young man cheerfully. ‘You could start by writing to the parish minister or the parish priest. The priest will know about all the families in his area. He would know if the person in question is still in the district or, indeed, if he is still alive. Then you could write to the local paper if you have an address for the person in question. They might know if the property is still in the same family. And the last census would tell you who lived at the property on a particular date - their names, their occupations. Might that be a start?’
‘Oh, thank you,’ said Flora. ‘That is very good advice. I will start searching right away.’
‘My pleasure,’ said the young man. What an attractive girl she was, he thought, with her eyes sparkling with interest and enthusiasm.
‘Now I must go,’ she said. ‘Our hostess is waving to me.’
‘I hope we will meet again,’ said young Mr Chambers.
Chapter 19
Flora crossed the room to where her hostess was now seated on a brocade sofa, scanning the room through her lorgnette. ‘Now there you are,’ she said. ‘I do wish to know more about you. So you have been conversing with our tame detective.’ Flora’s eyes opened wide.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Will’s aunt. ‘There have be robberies round here and I asked the Inspector—a friend of mine—if he could spare a policeman to stand at the gate and a young constable to circulate among my guests. You can’t be too careful.’ She patted the place on the sofa beside her. ‘Do sit down, my dear, and tell me all about yourself. You are a relative of dear Miss Dunbar, I think.’
‘A cousin,’ said Flora who was becoming a little tired of explaining her role in Cousin Chris’s household.
‘Ah yes.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘And how did you come to know my nephew?’
‘He picked me up after I fell, getting off a tramcar,’ said Flora, who saw no reason not to be entirely frank.
‘Dear me.’ Mrs Philp was nonplussed for a moment. ‘A very unusual way to meet.’ Her glance strayed to the girl in yellow, who was still talking non-stop to Will. ‘And before then?’
Flora gave a brief account of her stay with Aunt Mina. ‘I don’t know the family but your uncle, you say, was in business…’
Dear Uncle John, thought Flora. How could she possibly explain his kindness and generosity to this silly snobbish woman?
‘And your father? I gather you were an orphan, when your uncle and aunt gave you a home?’ Mrs Philp persisted.
‘He was a fisherman,’ said Flora.
There was a silence. Will’s aunt clearly didn’t know what to make of this. Flora cast a desperate glance in Will’s direction, but to her annoyance, he seemed to be listening intently to the girl to the yellow dress.
‘Oh,’ said Will’s aunt after a pause. ‘And how did he die?’
&nb
sp; ‘He was lost at sea.’ Flora still found it hard to say. She bit her lip.
‘And so your uncle and aunt took you in? And now you live with your cousin, Miss Dunbar?’
Too many questions, thought Flora. She nodded briefly. Then to her relief, she saw Will coming across the floor.
‘Ah!’ his aunt greeted him effusively. ‘Your little friend and I have been having such a pleasant chat.’
If you could call it that, thought Flora grimly.
‘You will know that delightful young lady, Miss Gilchrist,’ Will’s aunt continued. ‘I hope she and my nephew will soon get to know each other better—much better,’ she said knowingly.
How can I possibly escape? thought Flora. I should never have come. Her dress, though pretty and becoming to her, looked, she had to admit, homemade beside some of the others. She glanced across the room to where Mr Chambers was circulating among the guests. He saw her and raised his hand in a wave.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Will.
‘My tame policeman,’ said his aunt. ‘I asked my friend the Inspector if he could spare a constable for the evening. I feel so much safer.’
‘What…’ Will was about to say ‘nonsense,’ but he stopped in time and took Flora’s elbow. ‘Excuse us, aunt. I want to show Flora the conservatory.’ He steered Flora away from his aunt who had already caught sight of someone else she wanted to talk to. ‘Would you like to see the conservatory?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you,’ said Flora in as chilly as tone as she could manage.
‘I don’t mean look at the flowers,’ said Will hastily, ‘but I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t had a chance.’
‘And is that my fault?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Will was apologetic. ‘I got caught up with that girl, Miss Someone or other. I couldn’t get away from her.’
‘I didn’t notice you making much of an effort to escape.’
‘Don’t be silly, Flora. I’ve hardly met the girl and she isn’t my sort anyway.’
‘You do surprise me. Your aunt seemed to think you and she are ideally suited.’
‘Oh, you know my aunt.’
‘I don’t,’ said Flora, ‘and on tonight’s slight acquaintance I have no desire to know her better.’ She stopped, rather shocked by what she had just said. After all, Mrs Philp was her hostess and she should have kept her opinion to herself.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Will again. ‘I know she was quizzing you about your family She does that to any girl I’ve brought home.’
‘Indeed?’ said Flora. ‘Well, I gather she thought me very lower class, and I couldn’t bear it when she started asking about my father. I was proud of him - he was a brave man and how dare that woman, an unbearable snob, look down her nose at my parents.’
‘Here, I’m sorry.’ Will gave her a spotless white handkerchief from his breast pocket.
‘I’m not going to cry,’ said Flora. ‘I am not the crying sort. But I’ve never been so insulted in my life,’ she gulped, forgetting for the moment how often she had been snubbed and patronised by Aunt Mina’s friends. Will tried to put his arm around her shoulders, but she pushed him away. ‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘that I’d like to go home quite soon. I will say goodnight to your aunt,’ she added, remembering her manners.
‘All right. Let’s get your coat, and I’ll call a cab.’ The evening was ruined anyway, Will thought.
‘I can walk home.’
‘No, you cant. I wouldn’t let you.’ Will escorted her out by a side door.
As they passed through the hall, Flora was slightly embarrassed to see young Mr Chambers staring moodily at a picture of Highland cattle.
‘Hallo,’ Will called. ‘Still detecting?’
Flora gave him a watery smile and he nodded gravely at her.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Will offered.
‘No, thanks,’ said Flora as he handed her into a cab. ‘I can manage, thank you.’
Mr Chambers looked after them. A pity, he thought. He would have liked the chance to get to know a girl like that. If only…
Will gave the cabbie the address. ‘May I call tomorrow?’ he asked.
Flora shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Let’s leave it for a bit, shall we?’ She felt quite unreasonably tired and shaken by the way she had spoken to Will. I have never in all my life, she thought, spoken to anyone like that. Though I often felt like it.
To lose one’s temper, to flare up was often thought as a good thing. It cleared the air. It made you feel better. But it didn’t make her feel better. She felt utterly miserable, and ashamed. What a silly quarrel, and it was all my fault, she told herself.
Chapter 20
It seemed very strange the next week when Will did not call in after work. ‘So where’s your young man, eh?’ Nelly asked.
‘He’s not my young man,’ Flora snapped at her and then felt sorry. ‘I expect he’s busy,’ she added lamely.
Meantime, she decided that she would follow Mr Chambers’ advice. She would go ahead on her own and do her best to find out about Dougal. She had passed the local library sometimes when out shopping, and she remembered going into the impressive public library in Ayr when she had visited the town. Now she paused on the steps of the library. I can only ask, she told herself as she hesitated in the entrance hall.
‘Can I help you?’ She looked up at the tall figure in uniform. He must be some sort of commissionaire, thought Flora. She looked about her wildly.
‘I wanted to look up an address,’ she said, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.
‘You’ll want the reference department,’ the janitor said, pointing to a door at the far side of the hall before turning to chase away some youngsters who were jumping down the library steps. ‘Away ye go, you young de’ils,’ he shouted.
Some of them took heed, others hid round the pillar at the foot of the steps and shouted back at him, ‘Old Janny Mackay!’ He shook his fist and turned away, trying to recover his dignity.
The reference library was very quiet. One or two earnest-looking men were huddled over large books spread out on the tables, or studying even larger tomes propped on upright stands. Sometimes one would cough or sneeze and others would look round in disapproval.
‘Can I help?’ The young man at the desk wore a dark suit with a high collar. He took off his glasses and looked enquiringly at Flora
‘I’m looking for an address—I’m trying to find someone in Aberdeenshire,’ she said.
‘Which particular area?’
‘I don’t really know,’ said Flora, feeling a little foolish. ‘He probably moved there a very long time ago. It was somewhere called Carrdale, I think a name like that.’
He reached behind him and pulled down a gazetteer. ‘This might help.’ He spread the gazetteer open on the desk in front of him. ‘This is the area you want, I think.’
‘I don’t know much about the farm…’ Flora held out a slip of paper. ‘It may not even be there anymore.’
‘It could be,’ he said, ‘if the deeds have been transferred to the new owner. Or do you think it might be still in the family?’
‘I don’t know,’ confessed Flora. ‘It was about 40 years ago. Someone suggested the parish minister might know, but I have no idea where to start.’
‘Yes,’ said the young man, ‘that’s a possibility. You could try writing to the local minister and ask if he knows the family. He will have parish records, and,’ he gave a little cough, ‘will be able to find if your friend has, er, passed away.’
He lifted down another tome. ‘Here, you see,’ he said, ‘there are all the names of the parishes and the present minister and his address. I’d suggest you write to him and he may be able to help.’
‘Oh, thank you! said Flora, more loudly than she had intended. An old man, crouched over a newspaper, looked up crossly and glared at her. ‘Sorry!’ Flora mouthed. ‘Sorry!’ Turning back to the young man, she said, ‘I’m so grateful. You’ve helped such a lot.’
> ‘That’s what we’re here for.’ He smiled at her. ‘Good hunting.’
*
Flora started here letter: Dear Rev. Maclean –
She sucked her pen nib and thought. How did you address a minister? Dear Sir? Dear Mr Maclean? She decided to leave it as Dear Rev. Maclean.
I would be grateful if you could give me any information about someone called Dougal McCrae, who I think was a member of your congregation in the 1860s or 1870s. He came to Edinburgh, but I have no trace of him since. I am writing on behalf of my cousin, Miss Christina Dunbar, who would welcome news of him.
She paused and inserted the word ‘elderly’, which she thought an improvement. ‘My elderly cousin’ sounded better. He might be sympathetic to the idea of an elderly lady hunting for a long lost friend, rather than a young woman possibly in pursuit of a missing fortune.
As far as I know, she went on, his family had a farm in your parish. She added all the details she could think of and finished, I would be most grateful for any help you could give.
Well, she said to herself, we’ll see what that brings.
Chapter 21
‘We are to have a new lodger,’ said Cousin Chris one morning, looking over her mail.
‘Really?’ Flora was surprised.
‘I’ve been asked to take him by an old friend,’ said Chris a little apologetically. ‘Well, she isn’t really a friend. I hardly know her, but she knows I have guests and a spare room, so she asked if I’d have him for a couple of months.’ She went on, ‘I gather he’s some kind of traveller, so he may be away quite a lot. I’m not sure what he travels in.’
‘When is he coming?’ said Flora, trying to be practical.
‘Next week, dear. Monday, I think.’
‘And his name?’
‘Mr Macpherson.’
‘And have you told your friend the terms?’ asked Flora. Really, Cousin Chris could be quite impractical at times.
‘Yes, of course,’ Cousin Chris said a little sharply. ‘What do you take me for?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Flora. ‘ I didn’t mean...’
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