Rivers of London (Rivers of London #1)(50)

We sat on folding chairs around a card table with a cracked linoleum top, decorated with a single daffodil arranged in a slender vase of fluted glass.

‘Would you like some tea?’ Isis asked, and when I hesitated said, ‘I, Anna Maria de Burgh Coppinger Isis solemnly swear on the life of my husband,’ which got a chuckle from Oxley, ‘and the future prospects of the Oxford rowing team that nothing you partake of in my house will place you under any obligation.’ She crossed her heart and gave me a little-girl smile.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Tea would be nice.’

‘I can see you’re wondering how we met,’ said Oxley.

I could see he wanted to tell the story. ‘I presume she fell into the river,’ I said.

‘You would presume wrong, sir,’ said Oxley. ‘Back in the day I had a great fondness for the theatre, and would often smarten myself up and row up to Westminster for an evening’s entertainment. Quite the peacock I was back then, and attracted, I like to think, many an admiring gaze.’

‘What with him traversing the cattle market at the time,’ said Isis, returning with the tea. The cups and teapot were modern porcelain, a very clean design with a stylish platinum strip around the lip, not chipped at all, I noticed. I suspected I was getting the VIP treatment, and I wondered why.

‘I first set eyes on my Isis at the old Royal on Drury Lane, this being the new one that burned down not long after. I was in the gods, and she was in a box with her dear friend Anne. I was smitten, but alas she already had her fancy man.’ He paused long enough to pour the tea. ‘Although he suffered a terrible disappointment, I can tell you.’

‘Hush my love,’ said Isis. ‘The young man doesn’t want to hear about that.’

I picked up my teacup. The brew was very pale, and I recognised the aroma of Earl Grey. I hesitated with the cup at my lips but trust has to start somewhere, so I took a resolute sip. It was a very fine cup of tea indeed.

‘But I am like the river,’ said Oxley. ‘I may run but I am always there.’

‘Except during droughts,’ said Isis, and offered me a slice of Battenberg cake.

‘I’m always lurking under the surface,’ said Oxley. ‘I was, even then. Her friend had a very nice house at Strawberry Hill, beautiful place, and back in those days not surrounded by mock-Tudor semis. If you’ve seen the place then you’ll know that it’s built like a castle, and my Isis was a princess held captive in its tallest tower.’

‘Having a long weekend at a friend’s house, actually,’ said Isis.

‘My chance came when they held a great masquerade at the castle,’ said Oxley. ‘Dressed in my finest, my features cleverly disguised with a swan mask, I slipped in through the tradesman’s entrance and soon found myself mingling with the fine people inside.’

I figured that I was already in trouble for the tea, so I might as well have the cake. It was shop-bought and very sweet.

‘It was a grand ball,’ said Oxley. ‘Lords and ladies and gentlemen all dressed in Josephine gowns or tight breeches and velvet waistcoats, and every one of them thinking wicked thoughts while safe behind their mask. And most wicked was my Isis, for all that she was wearing the mask of the Queen of Egypt.’

‘I was Isis,’ said Isis. ‘As you well know.’

‘So I boldly stepped up and marked her card for every dance,’ said Oxley.

‘Which was a cheek and an effrontery,’ said Isis.

‘I saved you from the left feet of many a swain,’ said Oxley.

She put her hand on his cheek. ‘Which I cannot deny.’

‘The thing you have to remember about a masquerade is that at the end of the night the masks have to come off,’ said Oxley. ‘At least in polite company, but I had been thinking …’

‘Always a worrying development,’ said Isis.

‘Why did the masquerade have to end?’ said Oxley. ‘And as the son follows the father, I let action follow thought and seized my darling Isis, threw her over my shoulder and was away across the fields towards Chertsey.’

‘Oxley,’ said Isis. ‘The poor boy is an officer of the law. You can’t be telling him you kidnapped me. He’d be honour bound to arrest you.’ She looked at me. ‘It was entirely voluntary, I can assure you,’ she said. ‘I was twice married and a mother, and I’d always known my own mind.’

‘It is certain that she proved to be an experienced woman,’ he said and, much to my embarrassment, winked at me.

‘You wouldn’t think he was once a man of the cloth,’ said Isis.

‘I was a terrible monk,’ he said. ‘But that was a different life.’ He rapped the table. ‘Now that we’ve fed, watered and bored you senseless, why don’t we talk some business? What is it that the Big Lady wants?’

‘You understand that I’m strictly the go-between in this,’ I said. We actually did a course on conflict resolution at Hendon, and the trick is always to stress your neutrality while allowing both parties to think you’re secretly on their side. There were role-playing exercises and everything – it was one of the few things I was better at than Lesley. ‘Mama Thames feels that you may be looking to move downstream of Teddington Lock.’

‘It’s all one river,’ said Oxley. ‘And he’s the Old Man of the River.’