The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (speed reading book txt) 📕

trying to help Priscilla, who was doing her bit by saving two children from a burning house. And you know what my next bit will be? My next bit will be the well-being of my daughter, who comes before absolutely everything else. Oh—and I’ll be findingout the truth about Freddie Hackett—that’s a very big bit that I’m intent upon sorting out.”

MacFarlane stared at Maisie. “Freddie Hackett, well, god bless his cotton socks—perhaps that’s a case for children being seenand not heard.”

Maisie felt the heat rush through her. “Don’t goad me, MacFarlane, just don’t, because I will tell you right now that anychildren crossing my path will always be seen and heard—and until I have evidence to the contrary, I’ll err toward believing them. I’m surprised you would not take the sameaction.”

“Temper, temper, Maisie! I wonder what the great Dr. Maurice Blanche would say about that little outburst.”

“And please don’t bring Maurice into this—don’t you dare! Not only would Maurice have given me leave to make my own decisions, but he wouldn’t have countered my observations in the first place. He might have asked me a few more questions, possibly to sharpen my surveillance skills, and he might have guided me toward another conclusion—my conclusion—but he . . . he . . . he would never have discounted me. Ever.”

“One thing, Maisie. You may be going back, but you’re not off the hook. You’ve signed papers. You agreed to a certain taskon behalf of your country, and you still report to me. I’ll be in touch.”

She turned and walked away from MacFarlane, wondering how it had come to this; how a peaceful stroll along a rustic path inthe wilds of Scotland had fast become a shouting match. Yet in one respect, and one only, she knew MacFarlane was right. Herlack of confidence in a representative of an allied intelligence section meant that she should relinquish her duties. Butthere was another question lingering in the back of her mind. Had she pushed MacFarlane deliberately? Might she have deliberatelyput MacFarlane in the position of dismissing her, because she wanted to go home?

As she crossed the lawns at a brisk clip, making her way toward the carriage sweep that led to the manor’s front entrance,she remembered something that Maurice had pointed out many years before. It was to the effect that sometimes the mind takesthe initiative without forethought, as does the body. The two might function in this way alone or in concert, and why theydo it is simple—they are interceding to protect the heart.

 

There was no official aeroplane departing until the following morning, Thursday, so after a sleepless night in a guesthouse arranged by one of MacFarlane’s staff, Maisie was taken to the aerodrome at Prestwick early to board a Halifax bomber routed to Biggin Hill. There was no comfort on the aircraft, just a hard jump seat and a bumpy journey in weather that had become even more changeable; her legs almost gave way after the Halifax landed and steps were brought to the door for her to disembark. A motor car was idling, waiting for her on the tarmac, and as soon as she began to walk away from the aircraft Charlie Bright stepped out of the motor car and opened the passenger door. She stood to attention and saluted as Maisie approached.

“Good morning, ma’am. Nice to see you again, Miss Dobbs. Should be an easy run down to Chelstone, and it’s a lovely morningfor it now the weather’s cleared up again.”

“Thank you, Corporal Bright,” said Maisie. “Do you know the way?”

“A bit of help when we reach the village would be handy, thank you, ma’am.”

Maisie was grateful the driver seemed to sense her need for a quiet journey and did not endeavor to make conversation, thoughshe asked for more specific directions after they had passed through Tonbridge and were close to Chelstone. Soon they weredriving through the village, followed by the gates leading to Chelstone Manor.

“It’s this house on the left,” said Maisie. “You can pull in to that approach to the back of the house.”

“It’s a smashing house, ma’am—my dad would love those roses around the door. His are all gone by now,” said Bright. “And wholives in that whopping great manor house over there?”

“My late husband’s parents live at Chelstone Manor. This is the Dower House—I was fortunate to inherit it from a . . . froma very dear friend and teacher.”

“Blimey—I couldn’t imagine being friends with any of my teachers.” Bright drew the motor car to a halt. “There’s your welcomingcommittee—what a beautiful little girl. Is she yours?”

Maisie smiled, a rush of pride filling her heart. “Yes—that’s my daughter, Anna.” Without waiting for Corporal Bright, Maisie unlocked the passenger door and opened her arms as Anna ran to her.

“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy—you’re home, home, home! Poor, poor, poor Emma . . .”

“Yes, I’m home, my darling.” Maisie enfolded her daughter in an embrace, then let her slip to the ground. “Come on, this ladyhas to be on her way again, so help me with my bag.” She watched Anna return to the kitchen carrying her shoulder bag whileshe collected her overnight case and waved to Brenda, who was at the door. “Would you like a cup of tea before you go?” askedMaisie, turning to Corporal Bright.

“Thank you for the offer, ma’am, but I’ve to be on my way.” Bright consulted her watch. “Got to get back to London—pickingup Mr. MacFarlane at another aerodrome actually.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not to worry.” Maisie noticed Bright’s frown. “What is it, Corporal Bright?”

“It just that the orders are a bit creepy—you know, Mr. MacFarlane coming back early as well as you, and I’ve to pick himup with the mortuary van following behind me.” Bright stopped speaking, stared at Maisie and shook her head. “Oh blimey—I’vedone it now. You didn’t know about the mortuary van, did you?”

Maisie held up her hand. “As I said, not to worry. I’ll be speaking to him later today.”

“Sorry, ma’am. It’s not like