To Die but Once (Maisie Dobbs #14)(38)

Anna gave Maisie one more squeeze and then lay back. Maisie reached toward a small pile of books on the wicker table, selected one in particular, and began to read.

“They were not railway children to begin with. I don’t suppose they had ever thought about railways . . .”



Within just a few pages, Anna’s breathing had become soft. Emma stood up, stretched, turned on the rug three times and then settled down into a comfortable crescent, giving a contented low growl as she too fell asleep. Maisie replaced the book on the table, picked up the empty cup, and leaned over the child, brushed her jet-black hair from her forehead and kissed her soft skin before leaving the room.

“She go down all right?” said Brenda, standing up to go to the stove as Maisie entered the kitchen.

“She perked up a bit—especially when I told her that Tim was coming tomorrow—but I think she needs another day or two in bed. We’ll see.”

Brenda pulled a plate from the oven. “There’s some shepherd’s pie warmed up, love, and I put on a few vegetables for you while you were up there with Anna. I bet you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Oh, lovely. Thank you, Brenda—just what the doctor ordered,” said Maisie.

She took a seat as Brenda placed the plate in front of her, but as she picked up her knife and fork, she looked across at her father, who was regarding her without speaking.

“What is it, Dad?”

“Did you see your Mr. Klein?”

Maisie nodded.

“And he’s going to help find a good family for the little nipper?”

Maisie pressed her lips together as she faced her father, meeting his eyes with her own direct gaze. “Yes. Yes, he’s going to help settle her.”



The following morning, after Maisie had helped Anna bathe and then dabbed calamine lotion onto the rash that dotted her back, torso, arms and face, the child asked if she could lie on top of the bed in her best dress, if she had to remain upstairs, rather than wear her nightgown.

“Oh, love—you still have lots of spots, and they won’t get better if you wear your ordinary clothes. But what if you put on a fresh nightie and you can wear your new blue cardigan over the top?”

Anna seemed crestfallen, but Maisie knew she was a tractable child, not given to tantrums.

“That’s a good idea,” said Anna. She began to smile. “Then if I’m in bed, Tim won’t know I don’t have my proper clothes on, will he?”

“No he won’t. He’ll think you’re a big strong girl. Now then, let me see your tongue—open wide.”

Maisie looked into the child’s mouth to check the back of her throat, searching for the inflammation that accompanied measles.

“That looks a lot better. Do you want to come down for your breakfast? You’ll have to go back up again—if you rest you’ll get better faster.”

“Can I choose my egg?”

“Not today, pet—I’ll go out and find you a nice brown one. Then I must go over to the manor, to see Lord Julian.”

Anna smiled. “Before I got the measles, he told me I could call him ‘Uncle Julian.’”

“He did?” said Maisie, trying not to betray her surprise.

Anna nodded. “He came to watch me riding Lady, and he said I was showing great promise.”

“And that is high praise indeed, young lady. Now then, let’s go downstairs.”

After breakfast, as Maisie predicted, Anna had become sleepy, though her color seemed to have become more natural. As soon as she was settled in her bedroom once again, Maisie placed a telephone call to Priscilla, who confirmed that Tim would arrive at Chelstone station at twenty past twelve.

“His cheek knows no bounds, Maisie. I heard him say to Tarquin—deliberately in earshot, I might add—‘Keep your head down Tarq—she’ll need a target if I’m not here.’”

“And what did you say?” asked Maisie, expecting Priscilla’s retort to be as filled with sarcasm as her son’s.

“I told him that Tarquin and I would be going to the cinema.”

“Because you know how much Tim enjoys the pictures—Priscilla, you two goad each other as if you were siblings, not mother and son.”

“I know—I should grow up. I suppose if I am to be honest, there’s something in me that enjoys the sparring, and at least I’m keeping him on his toes.”

“Or the other way around.” Maisie sighed. “Anyway, I’ll be at the station to collect him.”

“He’ll come home a lot calmer—he always does when he’s been to Chelstone. Right, I’d best be getting on—and find where ‘Tarq’ has got to with his head down.”



Simmonds, the butler—who had once worked for James and Maisie when they lived at the Ebury Place mansion—had seen Maisie walking across the lawns in the direction of the manor house, and had already opened the door to greet her.

“Good morning, Your Ladyship—how are you, and more importantly, how is dear Anna faring?”

Maisie smiled, warmed by the affection with which the child was held. Anna had come to them as an evacuee, and was later orphaned when her grandmother—her only living relative, as far as anyone knew—died in a London hospital.

“She’s on the mend, thank you, Simmonds. She’s very excited because Tim’s arriving today.”