Page 81 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
She glanced down at the bin, somewhere she hadn’t searched, and the screw of yellow paper there reminded her. The report itself, of course, she had to fetch it from the typist. She glanced at her watch – it was too late now, the office would be closed. She’d go first thing tomorrow. They were open on Saturday mornings.
‘It’s already been collected,’ Miss Bateman said the following morning, the high arch of her pencilled eyebrows disappearing under a wing of blonde hair as she gazed at Nancy in surprise over her typewriter. ‘A gentleman came by yesterday after lunch. He said you’d be nipping in to pay the bill.’
Nancy stared at her in shock. ‘A gentleman? Who?’
‘I’m sure I don’t know. He didn’t give his name.’
‘I didn’t ask anyone else to fetch it.’ She sank into a chair opposite, rubbed her forehead, then glanced up. ‘What did he look like? Was he old, young? Dark, fair?’
‘Young, dark hair and good-looking, if you know what I mean.’
‘I don’t, exactly.’ She couldn’t think of anyone like that. Except James. She felt a worm of unease.
‘I’ll want paying all the same.’ Miss Bateman folded her arms and looked grim. ‘A day’s work, that was. Twelve shillings and sixpence.’
Nancy opened her purse with a sigh.
Outside, she loitered by the window of a second-hand bookshop, not seeing the dusty volumes within. Perhaps, she thought, ithadbeen James. She’d seen him come out of the lab the previous lunchtime. He could have seen the note inthe bin, and, knowing that she wouldn’t have time to fetch the report, had gone on her behalf and not told her. Her heart lightened and she hurried off in the direction of his digs, hoping that he’d be there. He was. His landlady eyed her suspiciously, but called him down to the dingy hall.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ James stared at her with a bewildered expression when she asked him for the report.
‘It’s just that you match the typist’s description. Who could it be, then?’
‘Not Staunton, obviously.’
‘No,’ she said, picturing Dr Staunton’s thin, ageing figure. None of her colleagues answered to Miss Bateman’s recollection, either.
‘So tell me again, more slowly. The woman gave the report to this unknown cove.’
‘A gentleman, Miss Bateman said.’
‘That means anything these days. And your rough notes have gone, too.’
‘Stolen from my shelf.’ Her voice quavered as the scale of her loss dawned on her. ‘Oh, James, all that work.’
‘Someone must have seen the note about the report being ready.’
‘Before I saw it, then. I put it in the bin. James,’ she said suddenly, ‘I’m not accusing you, but what were you seeing Dr Staunton about at lunchtime?’ She watched with dismay as his eyes narrowed and glinted like steel.
‘How do you know that?’ he murmured lightly.
‘Because I was passing his office and heard your voice.’ Shefelt herself flush, remembering how she’d hidden in the next office and seen where he went next.
‘It sounds as though you were spying on me.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’ Her face grew hotter. ‘It was coincidence, I assure you.’
‘I wanted some advice. Someone told me Staunton knows Professor Weiss in Boston. I needed to know what he’d be like to work with.’
‘And?’
And my informant was wrong. We had a bit of a chat, then I apologized for bothering him and I left. There, do I pass muster?’
‘Of course.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry. I’m all over the place. I don’t know what to do now. And with the Brauns and Dorothy away, I’m on my own at home.’
James sighed and she thought he might embrace her, but his landlady was hovering nearby, dusting the houseplants in a very obvious manner, so instead he said, ‘Wait for me to fetch my jacket and I’ll take you to lunch. It might cheer you up.’
Later, he offered to stay the night, but she knew he’d promised to accompany his parents to a family party in Gloucestershire.
