Page 54 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
Stef waited quietly, but Nancy’s attention had moved on.
‘Now, there was something I meant to show you.’ Nancy shifted herself round and started awkwardly shuffling through some papers on one of the shelves behind her. ‘Here it is,’ she said suddenly, pulling out a slim volume and passing it to Stef.
Stef examined it wonderingly. It was a privately bound publication. She opened it and read the typed title:The Effects on Locusts of Different Dusts Carrying DDT.
‘By Nancy E. Foster,’ Stef said aloud. ‘It’s your PhD thesis!’ She began turning the pages, frowning at the scientific language.
‘That’s right.’ Nancy beamed. ‘Take it away for a few days, if you’d like, though I want it back. It’s my only copy. I filed the other with Prince’s College, of course—’
‘I tried looking it up online,’ Stef remembered suddenly.
Nancy looked surprised. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Yes! Except the website wouldn’t let me open it,’ A reason suddenly occurred to her. ‘They’re probably still in the process of digitizing old theses.’
A wary expression crossed Nancy’s face. ‘D’you think that’s why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Stef said simply. An uneasy feeling crept over her.
‘I expect you’re right. I’m a bit paranoid, that’s all.’ Nancy glanced at the book. ‘You must take care of that. I suppose the college’s copy is somewhere in their library, but if it’s… mislaid, then this is the only copy left.’
‘Of course I’ll take care of it. I won’t keep it long.’ Stef slipped the thesis in her bag, feeling uncertain. Surely no one would have wanted to suppress this piece of research from more than fifty years ago? The explanation that had just occurred to her was likely to be correct. But the message on the website, ‘Access denied’, had been unnecessarily aggressive. Perhaps she needed to have been logged in to their system?
The old lady pushed herself to her feet. She went to stand at the window and gazed out sightlessly.
‘Are you all right?’ Stef asked but Nancy merely nodded. Her thoughts, it seemed, were far away.
As Stef walked back through the reserve to where she’d left the car, she hardly noticed her surroundings, so caught up was she in the events of the afternoon. Everything Nancy hadtold her to date was fascinating, but she sensed that the story was beginning to turn darker. She was aware of the precious book in her bag. Maybe there would be time this evening to read the thesis.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she took a wrong path and only realized when she came to a dead end. Here, a dark wooden bird hide hunkered on the edge of the Broad. Apart from the distant sounds of birds, all was quiet. As she turned to retrace her steps, she heard a sound from inside the hut and glanced round to see the door opening towards her. It was Josh, the warden, who stepped out. He was carrying something white in his hand, a piece of folded paper. He pushed this into his cagoule pocket as they stared at each other in surprise.
‘Sorry,’ he said, speaking first, ‘didn’t expect to see you!’
‘To see me personally, or anyone?’ she said with a smile.
‘Anyone. We closed half an hour ago, you know.’
His tone was accusatory.
‘I’ve been visiting Nancy,’ she said stoutly. ‘I’m only down here because I’m lost. So stupid. I’m trying to get back to my car in Fox Lane.’
The suspicion left his face and he nodded. ‘Easy to take a wrong turn if you’re not concentrating. I was just bolting the hatches here. There’s stormy weather forecast. I’ll walk back with you and show you the way.’
‘Thanks.’ She followed his striding figure the short distance back along the duckboards to a junction she’d missed.
‘I feel really stupid taking the wrong turn.’ She laughed. He’d paused by a fingerpost to wait for her.
‘Even I’ve done it,’ he said conversationally, resting one hand on a wooden rail. ‘I’ll say goodbye here. Have a pleasant walk back. When you get to the old mill, there are lots of swifts this time of day. Worth stopping to look.’
Before she knew it, he was telling her all about the swifts’ behaviour. His demeanour was completely different as he talked, not sulky at all; in fact, his face glowed with vitality. He was extremely knowledgeable and spoke interestingly, so she let him run on. Soon, in return, she was describing her own work as a journalist, mentioning a new bird sanctuary that she’d written about, and it was his turn to be interested.
‘You’re seeing a lot of Nancy,’ he said suddenly. ‘Is that also to do with your work?’ He spoke casually, but something about the restless way his fingers tapped on the rail put Stef on her guard.
‘Just to do with a book I want to write,’ she said. ‘I mustn’t reveal any more or my agent will skin me.’
‘Oh, okay,’ he said, sounding friendly enough, but his fingers tightened on the rail. ‘Skinning doesn’t sound good.’
Stef remembered something she must ask him. ‘You haven’t seen Nancy’s cat on your rounds, have you? It’s been missing for a couple of days now.’
