To Die but Once (Maisie Dobbs #14)(52)

Maisie came to her feet and held out her hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Yates. I am much obliged to you for your candor. I am sure Joe’s parents would love to hear from you—and for you to tell them what a wonderful young apprentice he was.”

Mike Yates ignored the outstretched hand and instead yelled past her. “Oi, Miss Not-So-Bright—if you could drag yourself away from your penny dreadful for a minute, would you see Miss Dobbs down to the yard.”

Maisie turned and left the small office and was joined by Bright, who put down a sheaf of papers and rose from her desk to escort her to the yard below. She did not speak until they were on the stairs.

“Don’t take any notice of him—crabby human being that he is. Cheek of it! I only pick up a book when he hasn’t anything for me to do, and I don’t read stupid stuff either. I’d argue back, but it’s not worth my breath. Him and his flash friends.”

“What flash friends,” asked Maisie. “He doesn’t look the type.”

“They never look the type, according to my mum—these crooks. I reckon it was one of his dodgy friends who got him that contract.”

“Does he mix with people like that?”

Bright shook her head. “He seems the type to me—if you come from where I come from, you know about that sort of thing.” She sighed. “Well, I don’t really know about that sort of thing personally, but my dad does.”

“What does your dad do, that he knows this ‘sort of thing’?” asked Maisie.

“He’s a copper. Sergeant at Carter Street police station.”

“That’s interesting,” said Maisie.

“It probably is, as long as you’re not related to him. Treats me like I’m a criminal half the time. What time are you going out? What time are you coming back? Which bus are you catching? Who are you going with? I like to go out to the dance halls with my friends—we don’t get up to anything wrong, just dancing to the swing bands playing the latest numbers, having a bit of fun. The way my dad talks, the musical world begins and ends with Gracie Fields singing about Walter taking her to the altar!” She sighed. “I know I’ve already told you this, but I can’t wait to get into the ATS, away from all of them.”

Maisie laughed. “Your dad’s like that because he loves you, Charlotte. In his job he’s seen too much, so he’s just worried about you—give him a chance, won’t you?”

“I s’pose you’re right, but it don’t half get on my nerves sometimes, all the questions. Anyway, nice to meet you, Miss Dobbs. And tell Joe’s people I was sorry to hear the news about him. I liked Joe. He was a good sort. Not like that brother of his—”

Maisie touched Charlotte Bright on the arm as she was about to turn away. “How do you know his brother?”

“Came round here once or twice, looking for Joe. Just before this job started, the big contract. I didn’t like the look of him—I mean, he was nice enough, but not like Joe—seemed a bit harder around the edges. Joe was sort of innocent, as if he would still be a bit of a boy when he was eighty. Anyway, I’ve got to rush—the guv’nor will be docking my pay if I’m out here any longer.”

Maisie glanced up at the office window. Mike Yates was looking down at them. She turned away and left the yard, just as a black and green Rover 10 swung through the gates.



“Where’s Martin today?” asked Maisie, a little disappointed to see Sandra at the office without her son.

“Lawrence’s aunt is staying with us, and said she would look after him today, so I’ve had some time to myself. I hate to say it, but it’s quite lovely—but just for a little while.” She laid a hand upon a pile of papers. “I’ve caught up with the letters, and there are three invoices for you to sign before I send them out. And the filing is done too—what does Billy do when I’m not here? There were pages everywhere.” She held up her finger, as if it were a reminder. “Oh, Mrs. Partridge telephoned. No news of Tim was her first comment. I wasn’t going to ask her what she was talking about, but she told me anyway. What does he think he’s doing? At his age? Going off in a boat, over there to where it’s terrible. We’ve been listening to the wireless, and—”

“What did she say?” asked Maisie.

“Just that a coastguard had told her the best thing she could do would be to go home and wait, and not get in the way. She sounded very angry, and very distraught—and who could blame her? So she said she’s coming back, and Billy’s driving them.” Sandra’s voice changed, a smile readily spreading where before there was consternation. “Isn’t it a miracle, about Billy’s son? Who would have imagined that could happen? Anyway, he’s with his mates now, on their way to their barracks, according to Mrs. Partridge, though she says he had some sort of shoulder wound. She told me that Billy had wanted his son to come home with them, but young Billy said he couldn’t. Well, obviously he had to go back to barracks—he’s a soldier, after all. But at least Billy had good news for Doreen.”

Maisie nodded and placed her bag on Billy’s desk as she pulled up a chair to sit down opposite Sandra. There was gentle warmth in their exchange, and Maisie felt a need for that cocoon of belonging, of being with someone she had known for a long time.