Page 62 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
‘Will you tell Mr Stuart that?’
‘Yes, when I see him.’
They said goodbye and she trudged off, head down, Baxtertrotting along beside. She looked for Aaron’s car near the pub. No sign, but it was well after two now. To pass the time, she stopped at the village hall to see her mother’s painting in the art exhibition. Since she had Baxter with her, she didn’t plan to stay for long. She quickly spotted Cara Lansdown’s beautiful picture of distant figures on a sunny beach because its blues and yellows glowed jewel-like in the gloom from across the room. No wonder it had a sold sticker, Stef thought proudly.
She was on her way back to Springfield Cottage when her phone rang. It was Nancy to say that she was home again and that Aaron and Livy had left.
‘D’you know, something marvellous has happened.’ Her voice quavered with emotion. ‘Tabitha’s come home.’
Thirty-Five
‘She’s in remarkably good condition.’ Nancy was settled in her usual place on the sofa and was stroking Tabitha, who lay dozing on a throw beside her. The cat raised her head briefly to blink at Stef, then stretched luxuriantly.
Stef put down her bag on a chair and crouched down to examine the cat, reaching to scratch behind Tabitha’s ears. Tabitha began to purr. ‘She does seem well,’ she said. The cat was no thinner than usual and her fur had a glossy sheen. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘She found me. I was sitting here feeling a little forlorn after saying goodbye to Aaron and Livy, and she sashayed into the room! I hadn’t heard the cat flap go, though I don’t think she can have been in the house for long because her fur was damp. I went out to the kitchen but she hadn’t touched the food I’d left out. She wasn’t hungry.’
‘It sounds as though someone’s been looking after her.’
‘It rather seems like it. She’s certainly too old to catch mice and birds to eat. But who, and why?’
Stef thought for a moment, then met Nancy’s eye. ‘This is a bit mad, but you don’t suppose it was the letter writer, trying to frighten you?’
Nancy frowned, then shook her head.
Another explanation crossed Stef’s mind, and she suppressed a shiver. The cat had reappeared immediately after Aaron and Livy had left.No!Aaron would never do something like that. She was horrified at herself for even thinking it.
‘Stef?’
‘No, it’s nothing,’ she lied. She straightened, sat down in her usual seat, then hurried on. ‘It’s possible that she was trapped somewhere where there was food, I suppose, or that someone found her and took her in.’
‘Yes,’ Nancy said doubtfully, ‘though I can’t think where. Oh well, she’s back. That’s the important thing. Thank you so much for popping by. How are things with your family?’
‘Pip’s not happy,’ she said. ‘It’s odd, isn’t it? A stranger would look at her situation and think she had a perfect life.’
‘No,’ Nancy said feelingly. ‘One can never assume that of anyone. I remember people saying that of my own sister and how wrong they were.’
‘What happened there?’ Stef asked.
‘My dear, we were talking aboutyoursister. Ours were different times.’
‘I’d like to hear, though.’
Nancy looked mischievous. ‘You’ve brought your tape recorder, have you?’
‘I might have done!’
‘Good.’ They smiled at each other. Stef brought the machine out of her bag and set it running, and Nancy began.
Thirty-Six
January 1951
Nancy’s early days in Hertfordshire were marked by bad weather. She cycled from her new lodgings in the town through rain or sleet to reach Brandingfield Hall, a hunched mass of buildings in a park on high ground, whose bright lights glowed eerily ahead through the fog.
Once inside, she inhabited a different world. The chilly marble entrance hall with its grand pillars had survived Hitler’s bombing, but the back of the house had fared less well, and its classical façade disguised a mishmash of patched-up rooms repurposed as modern laboratories, offices and meeting areas.
Her own equipment, brought up from London, occupied a metal worktop in the corner of an old reception room on the ground floor, where the pattern of the old Chinese wallpaper could still be seen through a new layer of pale green paint.The room was small and new windows had been installed, which made it easier to keep her locusts warm, though once again she put up notices warning the unwary against turning off the heat lamps.
