The Consequences of Fear Jacqueline Winspear (i can read book club .txt) đź“–
- Author: Jacqueline Winspear
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“Good for you, Corporal Bright. It’s always best to stand your ground with Mr. MacFarlane.”
“Here we are, Miss Dobbs,” said Bright, as they approached the station. “I’ll bring your case in for you.”
“Not to worry, Corporal. It’s not heavy.”
“Right you are, ma’am.” Bright brought the motor car to a halt. “Just a tick.”
Corporal Charlotte Bright stepped out of the motor car clutching a brown envelope. She opened the rear passenger door andsaluted as Maisie exited the vehicle and stood beside her.
“I don’t know if I warrant that sort of recognition, Corporal.”
“Miss Dobbs—I’m attached to Mr. MacFarlane’s department. Everyone in there deserves a salute as far as I’m concerned. Mr.MacFarlane will meet you on the train.” She handed Maisie the envelope. “This is for you—he said to have a dekko at it beforehe sees you.”
“Thank you, Corporal. Safe driving.”
Corporal Charlotte Bright smiled. “Mr. MacFarlane says he doesn’t trust anyone else to drive him, Miss Dobbs. So you’re safewith me, if I drive you again.”
Maisie smiled again and took her leave, though she stopped to look back as Charlotte Bright closed the passenger door and used a cuff pulled up over the heel of her palm to wipe a smear from the handle. A couple of young army recruits were passing, but slowed their pace to make their admiration of her ankles obvious and to pass comment. Though Bright appeared to ignore them, Maisie thought it was rather clever, the way she stuck out her foot and tripped up the one closest to her so he lurched into his friend and they both fell to the ground. Corporal Bright acted as if she hadn’t even seen them go down when she took the driver’s seat once again, closed the door of her motor car and moved off into traffic without looking back. It occurred to Maisie that she should probably feel honored that MacFarlane had sent one of his best drivers. She was sure the ATS corporal’s special training encompassed an ability to protect her passenger in any adverse situation, and given her impression of young Charlotte—“Charlie”—Bright, she had no doubt the young woman could take care of herself, and woe betide anyone who was foolish enough to underestimate her.
Maisie opened the envelope to find her travel warrant plus a clutch of notes, then made her way toward the departures boardto find her platform. As she walked through the station she was framing a conversation she planned to have with Robert MacFarlane—orwould she? Was he expecting her to mention Corporal Bright? Was he waiting for her to bring up the fact that he had just putanother young woman she already knew into her orbit?
Putting all thoughts of MacFarlane and the journey to Scotland aside, Maisie began walking toward a telephone kiosk. Steppingin, she dropped her suitcase at her feet, took a handful of coins from her pocket and began to dial. The telephone at theDower House rang only once before it was picked up.
“Mummy! Mummy-Mummy-Mummy—is that you?”
Maisie smiled. Anna had a habit of repeating herself when she was excited or nervous.
“Yes, my darling, it’s me! I’ll be back on Friday night, did Grandma tell you?”
“Yes-yes-yes! It’s a long time. And Emma hasn’t been well.”
Emma was another adoptee in the house—an elderly Alsatian Maisie brought home following the death of its owner. The dog andAnna had formed an immediate bond.
“Oh dear—what’s the matter with her?”
“Grandad says it’s her poor old heart, but just to let her rest, so I’ve been reading her stories.”
“I’m sure Grandad is right—he knows a lot about all animals.”
“But what if she dies? What if she dies, Mummy? What will we do if she dies?”
“Now then, let’s not think like that.” Maisie felt a sensation in her chest, as if the flow of blood to her heart had becomeconstricted. “Which story does she like best?”
“I think the one you read to me about Peter and his magic ship—The Ship That Flew. I couldn’t read it all to her, but I remembered the story so I just told her without the book.”
“That’s a very good story, Anna. Now then, can you put Granny on the line, so I can talk to her? And remember to count thesleeps before I come home—there’s only three!”
“Three sleeps! I’m going to read to Emma again—here’s Granny Brenda.”
Maisie heard the telephone being passed from the child to the adult, and Brenda instructing Anna to put her slippers on.
“Brenda, what’s all this about Emma?”
“Oh Maisie, what a time for you not to be here. I know you have to do your bit, and there’s plenty of others doing the same, but . . . but little Anna is going to be crushed before the week’s over. Your father says Emma is on her last—we knew she was old when she came to us, and it’s only been the love of a child that’s kept her going. Follows Anna everywhere, that dog.” There was silence on the line. “Maisie—Maisie? Are you still there?”
Maisie nodded, the words caught in her throat. “I should come home right now.”
“Look, my dear, I’m sorry I was short with you earlier—we’re all a bit out of sorts, I suppose. What with this horse show—andI’m surprised they’re doing it, but I suppose life has to go on, doesn’t it? Even though it’s wartime. And you have importantwork. I don’t know what you do, but I know it’s important. Don’t fret about the littl’un. She has our arms around her, andwhen that dog’s time comes, we’ll hold her even tighter.”
“Brenda—Brenda—I think I’ve had enough.” Maisie felt her voice crack again.
“You just do your job and
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