Chapter Twenty-Seven

Standing on the doorstep of Betty’s cottage, Penny’s sister Celia had her hands on her hips, and the same pout she’d worn until the truth about Penny’s leaving had come out the night before. Not only had she found her sister was married to some pilot Celia’d never even heard of, but her expectations of talking about it had gone out the window after Penny found out he’d been wounded at virtually the same time as she’d arrived in Hamble.

Penny had spurned every attempt she’d made to talk to her whilst she kept her vigil on the stairs through the night. One of her sister’s friends—Mary, she thought her name was—had eventually all but picked her up and marched her into Penny’s room to sleep. Lying in the strange bed felt good after the last few nights she’d spent sleeping where she could. She was galled to realize she barely knew who her sister was now. Perhaps she never had.

When she’d got up, Celia had every intention of having words with her. She knew she’d be in a state, but there were questions she needed the answers to. However, she was too late, as Penny and her friend Mary had already left the house. When she turned back up an hour later, Celia had believed her chance had come, only for Penny to mutter an apology to her whilst she changed out of her flying suit and into her ATA uniform. In fairness, whilst she’d changed, Penny had muttered to herself, not quite believing she’d turned up to work in her flying suit in the first place. “Must have been in a hurry last night,” she’d decided, grabbing her cap on her way out. Before Celia managed to get anything more coherent out of her, she was halfway out the door again. Before racing away, she hollered over her shoulder, “Make Doris and Betty breakfast. We’ll call Father and the boarding school when I get back.” Then, she was gone, running back toward the base.

So Celia slammed the door behind her, turned, and walked face to chest into Lawrence as he pottered out of the lounge. “Sorry,” she muttered, moving around him and toward the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he called after her.

“Who’s sunshine?” Ruth asked on her way down the stairs.

“Morning, Aunty,” Lawrence greeted her, with a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning. How’s the leg this morning?” she asked, noting he’d left his crutch behind and was hobbling around a lot better than she’d seen before.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he breathed heavily out.

“Perhaps not as good as you think?” Ruth ventured, going to put the kettle on.

He returned her question with a grimace. “Perhaps not,” he agreed.

“Toast okay for everyone?” Celia broke in, the bread knife poised above the loaf.

“Please, thank you,” Ruth said, before turning back to her nephew. “Grace is still popping by to take a look, isn’t she?”

Lawrence looked up at the kitchen clock, slightly after nine. “Any time now.”

A knock on the front door forestalled the conversation. Ruth, a piece of toast in her hand, went to answer and was followed back by Walter.

“Any idea why Penny was in such a hurry?” he asked, accepting a cup of tea from Celia. “She didn’t answer when I shouted after her.”

Ruth looked at Celia, clearly wanting to ask if she wanted to tell him.

Celia shrugged. “I think you know her better than I do.”

Ruth raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment further. “We had an…interesting…evening.” Celia interrupted with a loud snort and then carried on making more slices of toast. “Partially because of Celia there, but it’s not our business to comment,” she added, forestalling any protest. “Penny had some bad news last night. Tom’s been wounded.”

“Bloody hell!” Walter exclaimed, spitting toast crumbs everywhere.

“I gather Jane’s actually flying them up to an airfield near the hospital he’s in.”

Walter managed a half smile. “Jane! Got to love her.”

“Yes. Good old Jane,” Celia said under her breath.

Ruth, Lawrence, and Walter shared looks, but all decided to let it drop. “Anyway, they should be up at Ely by now. I guess we’ll know more when they call.”

“All we can do is wait, then,” Lawrence added, getting to his feet. “Thanks for the toast, Celia. Right, you two, ready to finish off Ruth’s place?”

Ruth was on her feet in an instant. “Oh, no, you don’t, mister,” she told him. “You’ve a nurse to wait in for. Besides, Walter’s going to open up the office today.”

“I am?” Walter looked a little bemused.

“Yes, you are,” Ruth confirmed. “Thanks to your section, and I still can’t believe they did it all in one day, my little cottage is again weatherproof. All I need to do now is sweep up and clean the inside.”

Walter had a frown on his face. “Well, I’ll open up the office, but you should expect some help today. Some of the lads said they’d be popping over during the day, in case you need anything.” In answer to her frown, Walter patted his boss on the arm. “Don’t pass up on free labor, boss. They’re pleased to help.”

Ruth paused, but then replied, “I won’t.” She turned to Lawrence once again. “As for you, stay. Grace is expecting to find you here, so this is where you’ll be. Afterwards, and only if she says it’s all right, you can come around. Agreed?”

Knowing his aunt of old, Lawrence knew no way was he was going to win the argument, so he nodded his head and sat back down.

“Still under the thumb, eh, Herbert!”

“Doris!” Walter said, bounding to his feet and enveloping his girlfriend in a hug before stepping slightly back and asking, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Why, Mr. Johnson,” she teased. “What has come over you?”

Walter promptly went red to the tips of his ears.

“Feeling a little better, Doris?” Ruth teased.

“Much!” Doris replied, kissing the tip of Walter’s ear.

“Good to hear. You can take some toast and a cup of tea up to Betty, then. What with all the commotion going on around here this morning, we must have woken her up,” Ruth advised.

“Was she up late?” Walter asked, totally unaware of the soppy grin he had upon his face, his arms around Doris’s waist.

“Here’s a tray,” Celia said, coming around the table and holding it out for Doris to take.

“After breakfast, what are you going to do?” Ruth asked rather pointedly, coming to stand with her arms folded in front of the American.

Doris unfolded herself from her boyfriend’s grasp. “I shall stay inside the cottage. I shall read Betty’s copy of The Body in the Library, which I shall not divulge the plot of to anyone. I’ll be a good little Yank,” she finished, looking up at Ruth and batting her eyelids.

Ruth didn’t appear to totally believe her, and she was clearly of two minds whether to say something else. In the end, she kept her counsel. “I’ll try and come along to the office later, Walter.”

With those words, she left for her cottage.

Doris disappeared upstairs with the breakfast tray, leaving Celia alone with Lawrence. There were a few minutes of awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Celia washing up the breakfast things. That didn’t take long. Finally, wiping her hands dry, she leant back against the butler’s sink and asked, “A policeman, eh? What kind of police work do you do, then, and how did you end up…broken?” She pointed toward his foot and wrist.

“If I told you,” Lawrence said, treating her to his best evil smile, “I’d have to lock you away for a very long time.”

Celia’s jaw dropped open.

After allowing her to stew for a few seconds, he put her out of her misery, “Not really. I’m just your normal Detective Inspector who got jumped. Falling from a great height will tend to do this to bones,” he added, flashing a genuine smile to show he could joke.

“And this Ruth, this newspaper editor, she’s your aunt. What’s with this Herbert business, then? I thought your name was Lawrence.”

“Yes and no. Yes, she’s my aunt, and yes and no, my name’s Lawrence. Actually it’s my last name, but I prefer it to Herbert.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Celia observed, “I would too.”

“And your story?” Lawrence asked her back.

Celia smiled. “A comedy of errors, it seems.”

When it became obvious she wasn’t going to elaborate, stony silence pervaded the kitchen. Neither looked at the other, and who knows how long this would have gone on if there hadn’t been a knock at the front door.

Lawrence announced, “Must be Grace,” and hobbled off toward the front door to let her in without another word.

“Well,” Celia muttered to herself. “What do they do for fun around here?”

A burst of laughter from upstairs startled her. With little else to do, Celia climbed the stairs and followed the sound of voices to a half-opened door.

“Do you believe them? I mean, how old do they think we are? I’ve been married before, so I’m no child!”

Celia was certain she recognized the American’s voice—that would be Doris. She held up her hand to knock but was stopped by the second voice. Betty’s. She knew it had to be.

“Calm down,” she told Doris. “They only say and do these things because they love us.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

Celia knocked, and as the door wasn’t completely closed, didn’t bother to wait for permission to enter.

“Funny way of showing what?” she asked.

“Come on in, why don’t you,” Doris remarked.

Stretched out before her on the bed, both Betty and Doris were lying on top of the covers. Doris had changed out of her pajamas into a pair of brown slacks and a light blue blouse, whilst Betty was in a flower-patterned skirt and buttercup-yellow blouse. Each was leaning into the other’s shoulder, looking very comfortable and at ease. Indeed, apart from the frowns they now wore, it looked like neither had been arguing seriously. She’d possibly interrupted some good-natured banter. Still, there wasn’t anything else she could think of to do.

Celia took the opportunity to ask the question she’d been itching to ever since she set eyes upon Doris. “So how come a Yank’s in the ATA?”

Doris exchanged a look with Betty. “Short version, I needed a distraction from being in New York, and this was a much better bet than anything we had back home.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Celia perched herself on the edge of the bed at their feet. “I don’t expect you’re going to say anymore on the subject, are you?”

“No, I’m not. Your sister is one of my best friends. I’d trust her with my life—but, and this isn’t personal, I don’t know you.”

Celia shrugged. She hadn’t expected anything different. “The bump on the noggin will keep you off work until…?”

Doris touched her forehead and tried not to wince. “Monday. I can’t wait!”

“Me either,” Betty said. “She’s been a terrible patient.”

Doris gently elbowed her friend in the ribs. “Sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

This got Celia’s attention, though she couldn’t see anything wrong when she looked at Betty. “You’ve been ill too, Betty?”

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Betty slid her feet into a pair of slippers and stood up. Celia caught the wince on her face. “Where did you get wounded, then?”

“Oh, it’s a much more interesting story than our Doris being hit by a piece of glass,” Betty told her, without elaborating, and went slowly downstairs.

Left alone, Celia asked Doris, “I don’t expect she’s going to elaborate either?”

Doris got up, placing a hand very briefly on Celia’s shoulder as she went past. “Well worked out.”

After being left alone in Betty’s room for a few minutes, Celia got to her feet and was about to leave when she noticed a book doing a slow slide off the bed. Scrambling across the covers, she caught it just in time and was happily surprised to find a Miss Marple mystery, The Body in the Library. Her face split into a wide grin. She hadn’t read this one yet! Running downstairs, she burst into the lounge, waving the book in the air.

“Can I read this next?”

Being a teenager, Celia didn’t have much practice at being subtle. This was one of those times, as Lawrence quickly whipped his trousers back up. Next to him, Nurse Grace burst out laughing at the horrified expression upon his face.

“I should really tell you off for bursting in unannounced,” Grace told her between giggles, “but the look on his face is priceless.”

“Are we finished?” Lawrence asked from between gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes. You’re doing fine,” Grace told him, once she could find her voice. “In fact, come in next week, and we can take the cast off. Your wrist should be okay too.”

A smile sprang to Lawrence’s face. “Fantastic. Can we keep this secret from Mary? I’d like to surprise her with a real date. I’m a bit fed up with not being able to walk out with her properly.”

Grace walked past Celia, put on her cape, and then popped her head back around the lounge door. “Of course. I’ll make you an appointment, and the hospital will give you a ring when it’s done. Bye!”

Left alone with Lawrence, Celia shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Finally, she decided she should apologize and had just opened her mouth when Betty came into the room, with Doris carrying a tray of tea in her wake.

“Has anyone seen my book?”

Feeling guilty, Celia showed her the one in her hand. “Is this it?”

“Last place I recall reading was in my bedroom,” Betty said, unable to keep a note of accusation out of her voice.

“I noticed it sliding off the bed after the two of you left. I didn’t want it to fall on the floor. Here you are.” She passed it to Betty who, mollified, accepted it with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, Betty. Once you’ve finished, could I read it? I love Miss Marple!”

Doris burst out laughing, whilst both Betty and Lawrence shook their heads. Celia could only stare from one to the other and finally had to ask, “What did I say?”

“Let’s start by saying you’re way down the list to read this book,” Betty told her. “Your sister and her friends consider themselves somewhat amateur sleuths.”

“I’ll never admit this to any other policemen, but I’d say a little more than amateur.” Lawrence hurried to add, “But don’t tell them, Betty.”

Intrigued, Celia took a seat, accepting a cup of tea rather absently from Doris. “What happened?”

From being open, Betty’s face clouded over. Celia didn’t miss the change in demeanor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did,” Doris told her, nudging her shoulder as she sat down next to her.

Celia grinned. “Yes, I did. But I’m not all bad, really. Now, seriously, my sister and you lot solved a mystery?”

Betty glanced across at the youngster and this time, treated her to a warm, true smile. “I’ll say only this. Your sister and her friends did me a great, great favor for which I’ll never be able to properly repay them. To me, they are family.”

These were words Doris hadn’t been expecting to hear, and she launched herself off the sofa, fell at Betty’s knees, and hugged her tightly around the middle. Celia saw the older lady wince in pain, yet ignore it and hug her friend back. After a minute, Doris resurfaced and, very seriously, looked her friend in the eye.

“Does this mean I have to call you ‘Mom’?”