Chapter 26 #2
I was always delighted to see Miss Townsend, whom I much admired.
She was a lovely young woman, with very dark hair tucked into a modest bun, and lively brown eyes. An artist by trade, she often had scarlet, blue, or green stains on her fingertips, where she’d attempted and failed to scrub off all the paint before she left her studio.
I often envied the way Miss Townsend lived life on her own terms, with her own house, though of course, the very wealthy could do as they liked.
Before I took the seat Mr. Thanos gestured me to, I removed a wrapped lemon cake from my basket. I’d meant for Cynthia to pass it on to Miss Townsend, but as she was here, I could present it to her directly.
“How kind of you, Mrs. Holloway,” Miss Townsend said in true delight. “Let us round up some plates, and we’ll have it right away.”
Mr. Thanos hastened from the room, I assumed to find his landlady and fetch said plates.
“Please sit down, Mrs. Holloway.” Miss Townsend directed me once more to the chair and took over unwrapping the cake. “You have done enough already, and we have much to tell you.”
My heart beat faster as I hung my coat on a rack inside Mr. Thanos’s door and sank into the comfortable chair. The weather had turned cold, and the glow in the small iron stove was welcome.
“You have found Daniel’s family,” I said, though I knew this was a remote possibility.
Miss Townsend and Cynthia both laughed. “Not quite,” Miss Townsend said. “But we’ve turned up some interesting details.”
“We wanted you to have a look before raising McAdam’s hopes,” Cynthia put in.
“A good thought,” I agreed.
Daniel today was continuing the investigation into Mr. Banks’s death, he’d told me before he’d gone last night.
He planned to find Mr. Ramsay and see what he’d say as well as take Mr. Grimes once more over what he’d observed.
Now that the smugglers were gone from the docks, Daniel would scour the area between the warehouses as thoroughly as he could.
Mr. Thanos returned before long with his landlady, who pushed a trolley in with tea and plates and a knife laid out for serving the cake. She highly approved of Miss Townsend.
I pressed a piece of cake on the landlady, which she graciously accepted and then left us to it. Cynthia insisted on serving, so I sat back while she poured out and cut rather lopsided slices of cake for us.
“My father—or rather his clerks—did look through the records you requested, Mrs. Holloway,” Miss Townsend began when we were all settled.
“There were an unfortunate number of reports of missing children in those two years, though happily many were found. Some had run away, some turned up with other family members, but some, sadly, were never heard from again.”
When Miss Townsend paused to take a bite of cake, Cynthia continued.
“Judes and I and Thanos compared all the lists—what he and I found at Somerset House, Judith’s information from the Home Office, and the list of names you gave us.
None from yours turned up on the others, Mrs. H.
, but four of the ones Thanos and I found matched four names on Judith’s list.”
Miss Townsend nodded as my hopes rose. “The parents in question are all deceased now, sad to say. But three of those families had a boy go missing in the months to a year before they died, and one went missing afterward, reported by the dead father’s brother, who apparently was supposed to have been looking after the lad. ”
“Goodness, you narrowed things down more than I thought you could,” I said in amazement. “I don’t suppose you know if any of these families went to the seaside at any time?”
The corners of Miss Townsend’s eyes crinkled. “The records reported nothing so specific. Though we could ask the remaining relatives of those families when we interview them.”
“Did you plan to interview them?” I asked, surprised. “There is no need. Daniel and I can hunt them up.”
“But we want to see it through, you see,” Mr. Thanos broke in. “We’re as interested as you are.”
“Possibly, but Daniel might object to you investigating his past without him.”
Cynthia licked crumbs from her fingers. “Which is what we have been doing. Think of it this way—better we discover whether or not these people had anything to do with McAdam and spare him having to face disappointment after disappointment. We can narrow it down even more—or eliminate the possibilities altogether—before presenting him the solution, fait accompli.”
“You have a point,” I said slowly.
“Besides, you are ever so busy these days,” Mr. Thanos said. “What with your market stall in addition to your regular cooking. We will rush around and be your eyes and ears. And feet, I suppose, as it were.” He chuckled at himself.
“You are kind,” I said in true gratitude. “I, indeed, have much to do at the moment.” I rose. “In fact, I will leave you to it, and also to enjoy the cake. But, please, send word as you proceed. I am very interested in how you get on.”
“You’re as curious as we are, you mean.” Cynthia rose with me. “Never fear, Mrs. H. I will give you a full report every morning.”
“Thank you.” I warmed that I and Daniel had such friends. Though we came from very different walks of life, we all cared for Daniel, and one another.
Before I grew any more maudlin, I took my leave.
Since I was so near Oxford Street, I went in that direction when I left Mr. Thanos’s Regent Street building. Instead of making my way east along Oxford Street, I went a little way to the west, heading for the small bookshop I’d so much enjoyed this past Saturday.
Mrs. Davies was helping a few customers, so I lingered, pretending interest in a few books on display until she finished.
When the shoppers departed with several books bundled together with twine, I turned to Mrs. Davies, answering her greeting. I’d tucked extra scones into my basket, intending to drop them here before I went to Joanna’s.
“Thank you so much, dear,” Mrs. Davies said as she took the scones I’d wrapped loosely in brown paper.
“You are such a kind young woman. Now, before you hasten away, I have something for you.” She ducked into her back room and reemerged before I had time to follow her.
“I had a nose around at other bookshops for you, and I got them to look in their records as well. I came up with more names.”
Mrs. Davies beamed and thrust a sheaf of papers at me.
“That was good of you,” I said in wonder as I took the sheets. “There was no need.”
“It will be a tedious search through every bookshop in London if you try to do it by yourself,” Mrs. Davies said. “Besides, it interests me. If you need any more help, no matter what the problem, you can come to me.”
“You have done so much already,” I began.
“Nonsense, dear. It is rather dull here unless my grandchildren come to visit. I welcome the challenge of a little searching. It’s similar to finding rare books for those who want them.” Her eyes glimmered with eagerness.
“I will return at once if I need anything more,” I promised.
“And do let me know how things turn out.”
“I will.” I realized I’d found a friend, one who listened and didn’t give two sticks for me being in domestic service. “I must go now, unfortunately. My daughter is waiting, and she will be leaving London all too soon.” I faltered, my voice cracking.
Mrs. Davies laid a kind hand on my arm. “Take heart, dear. You will visit her as much as you are able, and a year is not so long a time. When you are my age, you realize they go by in the blink of an eye.”
The long months without Grace nearby did not seem like the blink of an eye to me, but I nodded.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Davies. Please enjoy the scones.”
“I will, dear. Off you go.”
I stuffed the pages into my basket, nodded as I went out the door, and hurried along Oxford Street, my feet turned eastward once again.
* * *
I had no time to look over the pages Mrs. Davies had given me, as I took myself as rapidly as I could to Clover Lane.
When I arrived, the interior of the house was in chaos.
Crates and wooden cartons were stacked everywhere, with Mark and Matthew coming downstairs with armloads more.
Joanna was hurrying about in her parlor, which had been stripped of books, pictures, knickknacks, and cushions, the room empty and desolate.
Joanna emerged as I paused in the hall, nonplussed.
“The removals men will come on Saturday,” Joanna said breathlessly. “Sam only informed me of this yesterday, if you please. I’d already been packing, but now we’ll have to throw everything in a van and hope for the best.”
While I stood still, unable to move, Joanna embraced me. “Nothing for you to worry about, dearest. The kitchen is still intact, so you can do your baking with no hindrance. We won’t pack it up until tomorrow.”