The Range Rover hurtled along the motorway towards London. The early morning fog had mostly cleared and it was shaping up to be a beautiful day despite Kensy’s stormy mood. Fitz was behind the wheel and Song sat beside him in the passenger seat. The butler had swapped his formal attire for more casual clothes, which the children had been glad to see. They hadn’t fancied being accompanied around London by a penguin. Wellington and Mackintosh lay between Kensy and Max in the back, sound asleep.

Kensy stared gloomily out the window. She was still hating the fact that Fitz was gallivanting off to Africa and making them attend school in London while he was gone. Apparently, he had some connections there and he thought it the best option, although Kensy didn’t really understand it at all. It wasn’t fair, and how could she possibly be expected to learn anything when she would spend the whole time worrying about her parents? Her stomach was churning and so was her mind. As the fields flew by, she couldn’t help thinking how much their mother would love the lush green country side. Anna Grey had found Australia rather curious with the ghost gums and bush. Despite their beauty, she made no secret that she longed for the rolling green hills of her homeland in France.

Song turned on the radio and was soon humming along to the twang of a slide guitar. Kensy groaned and covered her ears while Max, oblivious to the tunes, continued studying the map of London that was spread across his lap. With pointed finger, the boy had followed their journey from North Yorkshire, down the A169 on to the A64 then the M1, which approached the city from the north. He’d been memorising the names of the towns and villages he could see from the motorway and had just turned the page to focus his attention on the enlarged map of London. They had reached the outer boroughs and were making good time on their run into the city.

Last night the twins had eaten dinner with Fitz and Mim. They still couldn’t quite believe that she was his mother, having never heard a word about the woman their entire lives. It transpired that both mother and son were guilty of a family rift and had been equally stubborn about it. But when plans had first gone awry in Zermatt, Fitz had thought the most obvious thing to do was to return home – that way, the children would be in good care if he needed to go looking for Anna and Ed. Sometimes you just had to swallow your pride and, after all, blood was thicker than water.

Max and Kensy had great fun taking turns interrogating Mim for every single embarrassing childhood story of their stoic manny. They had also learned that Mim managed the gardens at Alexandria and had done so since Fitz was a boy. The only trouble was, Mim couldn’t go down to London with them just now due to some critical work in the garden. She was grafting one hundred experimental new plants – a cross between a blackberry and a raspberry, which they would name a blars-berry if successful. Song had volunteered to accompany them instead as Dame Spencer was not due back at Alexandria for a couple of weeks and he was happy to assist.

With a captive audience, Kensy had shared what she’d overheard in the garden and announced that they had two criminals, most likely murderers, in their midst – one of whom was going down to London after he’d dealt with some bodies.

Mim had thrown her head back and laughed out loud. ‘Oh dear,’ she’d said, wiping tears from her eyes. ‘I’m afraid that some of the staff have an interesting way with words. I do believe that would have been old Shugs, and I understand he and Mr O’Leary were moving the straw mannequins from the walled field. The local archery club uses them for practice sessions and competitions on the grounds once a month. They would have been sodden from the rain and they weigh a tonne when they’re wet. Shugs and O’Leary were complaining to me about them yesterday and said that the club should do their own setting up and packing away from now on. Oh, darling girl, I’m so sorry they scared you.’

Kensy had felt relieved and disappointed at the same time and a little bit miffed at the smug look on her brother’s face. Unfortunately, it all made sense – especially with the arrow in the tree. Just once, though, she wished her nose for trouble was right. Then again, she was glad they didn’t have murderers lurking about and that no poor souls had met an untimely demise.

After dinner, the twins had snuck back to the library, where Max had shown his sister the handwritten code in the front of The Caesar Shift. Intrigued, Kensy challenged her brother to see who could solve it first. While she tried a few different tacks, giving up on each with an almighty harrumph, Max stuck to one strategy. He used a code Fitz had shown him not long ago. It was called the Caesar cipher, an encryption technique that involved each letter of the alphabet being substituted for another in a fixed pattern. Once Max had discovered that ‘A’ was substituted for ‘X’, he had it transcribed within five minutes. It read:

To our beloved son EDS on the occasion of your thirteenth birthday.
Welcome to the firm.
With our unwavering love and affection, C & D

It didn’t mean anything yet, although Max suspected the ‘C’ stood for Cordelia. They still hadn’t got to the bottom of what the woman did exactly – besides being a dame, of course. The twins had asked about her over dinner, but it seemed that Fitz and Mim were both experts at deflecting questions they didn’t want to answer.

‘What’s the name of the school we’re going to?’ Max asked, as he took in the sights and sounds of the city.

‘Central London Free School, on Erasmus Street,’ Fitz replied. ‘The headmaster is an old friend of mine, and it’s close to home.’

‘Sounds cheap,’ Kensy grumbled. She ignored the wry smile Fitz flashed her in the rear-vision mirror.

Max quickly located it on his map. It suddenly occurred to the lad that he didn’t know where their new home was. Neither he nor Kensy had thought to ask about their living arrangements until now. There had been too many other thoughts to grapple with. ‘Where are we staying?’ Max asked, but before Fitz could reply, the boy spotted a landmark he knew. ‘Oh, wow. That’s Marble Arch,’ he declared, putting down the window.

Kensy peered around her brother to see what he was looking at. ‘How do you even know that?’ she muttered.

Max’s eyes widened as the car travelled through the roundabout. ‘And Oxford Street is where you’ll find the best shopping in London,’ he said, gesturing down the road.

‘You are correct, Master Maxim,’ Song said. ‘I myself am a big fan of Selfridges. Their kitchen department is excellent. They were the only store in the whole city who had a potato peeler in the right shade of crimson.’

As the car continued along Park Lane, Max reeled off various other landmarks, including Hyde Park and the Wellington Arch.

‘Look!’ Kensy pointed excitedly at the cavalry of horses and riders in formation crossing the road ahead of them. She had clearly forgotten to be sullen – for the moment, at least – much to Fitz’s relief.

‘It’s the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace,’ Max told her. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was just after eleven in the morning and they’d been travelling since before dawn. ‘The palace is over there,’ he said.

‘I wonder if Dame Spencer has met the Queen,’ Kensy mused aloud. She began to imagine the two women having sleepovers in their mansions, curling each other’s hair and drinking tea while watching silly, old game shows.

‘Oh yes, Miss Kensington,’ Song answered. ‘They are good friends.’

A smile tickled the girl’s lips. ‘Of course they are,’ she whispered to her brother.

‘Mum would love all this,’ the boy breathed.

Kensy noticed the forlorn look on Max’s face and her smile evaporated. ‘They’re going to be okay,’ she said quietly, then raised her voice for everyone to hear. ‘I’m not worried, you know. There’s no point. Mum and Dad would be cross if they knew we were thinking the worst. Like you said, Fitz, they’re probably lying low until that rebel thingy is over.’

‘You are wise beyond your years, Miss Kensington,’ Song said with a nod. ‘Fretting about things that are outside our control is a waste of good energy. It is of far greater use to have a positive attitude.’

‘Well, I’m not worried either,’ Max piped up.

Song turned to look at the children in the back seat. ‘Confucius says you must hold tightly to your hope like a man holds tightly to the rope on a flapping duck’s leg in a wild wind.’

Fitz and Max burst out laughing. ‘I bet he didn’t,’ the boy said.

‘Yeah, Confucius didn’t say that at all,’ Kensy agreed, catching on. A smile crept back across her face. ‘You just made that up.’

Song pouted. ‘I am sure if he were here today he would have said it.’

And with that admission, the four of them rollicked with laughter. It seemed Song’s wise words had an uplifting effect on everyone – Kensy included.