The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

But his eyes held such despair and sadness that she held back. Her mother’s eyes had been the same, seeming to darken every year, until Eva was sure if she didn’t leave, she’d drown in their reflected misery.

“Good-bye, Mr. Danek. Thank you again for the lipstick,” she said instead, and left the café. She walked down the sidewalk, the swish of her new skirt and the tapping of her suede shoes buoying her mood again until she’d almost forgotten the sadness in Mr. Danek’s eyes and everything that he had told her. Almost.

CHAPTER 8

LONDON

MAY 2019

Once again, I found myself flying down the highway with Arabella in the red BMW, this time headed toward Colin’s parents’ home in Guildford, Surrey. My phone buzzed, and I didn’t need to look at it to know it was Cassie calling me again for my answer about coming home for Christmas and Knoxie’s wedding. If there was one thing I knew about my aunt, it was that she was more persistent than a termite in an old barn.

The day was warm and sunny—or warm and sunny for England in the spring—and Arabella had the top down. As we passed yet another car on the motorway, I recognized familiar looks of shock as the passengers stared in our direction.

“There are speed limits in the UK, right?” I asked, shouting over the wind.

Arabella actually appeared to be thinking. “I believe so.” Her phone, resting in the cupholder, rang. “Could you please answer that and tell whoever it is to call my assistant, Mia? She’s been instructed to hold all of my calls today while I’m working away from the office. Unless that is Mia.”

I sent her a sidelong glance as I looked at the screen. We were on a mission to find Precious’s lost friend, Eva, and discover anything else we could about Precious’s past. Arabella was seeing her idea for the article growing into something much larger than either of us had originally imagined, from what was an article simply about fashion before and during the war years into a personal look at the lives, loves, and friendships of the people who’d experienced it all firsthand. This was why we were headed to Surrey and why she could consider this drive “working away from the office.”

“It’s someone named Wil. There’s no picture.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “Oh. Well, then. Could you please respond with a message telling him that I’ll ring him back later?”

“Sure,” I said, tapping at the screen. I didn’t ask her who Wil was. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested—I was. It was just that I didn’t like to reciprocate with information about myself. Besides, I knew she’d tell me eventually.

“What’s in the extra bag?” Arabella asked, indicating the backseat.

“Yesterday’s picnic lunch. Laura packed it up for Colin and me, but Colin had to go back to the office. So I brought it for us. You like pimiento cheese, right?”

She made a face, which I silently cheered; that meant more for me. “Yes, well, I don’t think we’ll need it. It’s only a little over an hour’s drive, and Aunt Penelope is planning on lunch for us.” She glanced over at me. “I’m still not sure why Colin didn’t come. He mentioned that he’s interested in helping with the research and seemed quite excited by it.”

I didn’t say anything, just kept my gaze focused on the rapidly disappearing asphalt in front of us. I heard her groan over the rushing wind. “Does he not know?”

I looked away so she couldn’t see my guilty expression. “When I suggested asking his mother for help finding Eva, Colin said it was a good idea but probably would have to wait until the weekend because of work. I didn’t want to wait, so I called you.”

Which was all completely true. I didn’t bother mentioning that I didn’t want to spend any more time with Colin than I had to. There was something unresolved between us, an obscuring fog that kept threatening to clear. I needed it there, because there had always been something about Colin Eliot that strained to shift my resolve regarding relationships.

“So I’m the bad guy. Very clever of you, Maddie. If not Machiavellian.”

“I’m trying to do my job and make an old lady very happy by finding her long-lost friend. How is that Machiavellian?”

Arabella grimaced. “You and I both know this has more to do with you and those feelings you won’t talk about. Just know that Colin won’t like it when he finds out you’ve gone behind his back.”

“Me?” I asked innocently. “You were the one who called his mother.”

She glared at me before returning her focus to the road.

Eager to change the topic, I said, “I’ve never been to his parents’ country house. Is it old?”

“A bit. Originally, there was a medieval manor on the property, but a St. John ancestor built the current house sometime in the fifteen hundreds. It’s been in the family ever since.”

“Wow. And I thought my grandfather’s house was old. But that was built in the middle of the eighteen hundreds.”

“Still quite old by American standards,” Arabella said graciously. “But I bet Hovenden Park has had more distinguished guests.”

“Hovenden Park? Colin’s house has a name?”

“Oh, yes. And a dairy farm. Actually, the house is called Hovenden Hall, but the entire estate is Hovenden Park. We can go pet some of the cows if we have time. You’ve heard of Hovenden Ice Cream, right?”

She pulled off the motorway, giving me a few moments to think. “How have I never heard any of this before?”

“You never asked, did you? And you’re not very forthright about yourself, either. If it weren’t for your accent and my amazing powers of deduction, we wouldn’t even know you were from America. As for Colin, well, he has his reasons, too. It’s a good thing you both have me, or you’d never meet anyone.”

I was silent as she maneuvered the car down a narrow lane with