Chapter 25 #2
Four fours are sixteen.
Five fours are twenty.
Six fours . . .
“You’ll find Miss Anderson in one of the classrooms,” the driver said. “She’s back to helping her father with the school.”
Melrose approached the grey stone building and opened a door.
It led straight to a classroom where about thirty small children were seated.
They gaped at him as if he were a creature from another world.
Then he saw the slim young woman standing by the blackboard.
Her ash-blonde hair was twisted up in a bun and she had clear blue eyes.
A pleasant-looking person. She was holding a pointer and looked up, startled, as he came in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Are you Miss Anderson?”
“I am. Who are you?”
“Inspector Melrose, Glasgow Police,” he said. “I wonder if I might have a few words about Miss Lucy Hamilton?”
“Such a sad thing to happen,” she said, “but I don’t know how I can help you. I was dismissed before any of this happened.”
“All the same, I’d appreciate some insights, if the children can be left for a moment?” He was conscious of all those pairs of eyes staring at him with amazement. A strange man did not appear very often in Kyle of Lochalsh.
She put down the pointer. “Very well. Children, turn to page twenty-three in your books. Read the paragraph about Robert the Bruce. And no talking. I’ll be outside and I’ll hear every word.”
She gave a stern look. Heads went down as they turned the pages of their textbooks. She followed Melrose outside.
“I wondered if you could give me any insights into what Miss Lucy thought about her suitor, Mr Chisholm, and what she felt about Mr Stewart.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I can tell you.
She was not pleased when Mr Chisholm came to stay.
She made it clear that she did not like him and certainly didn’t want to marry him.
” Those blue eyes held Melrose’s. “I am a great believer of the freedom of women to choose, to make their own lives, not to be sold off like cattle. I told Lucy she needed to go out into the world, to experience life before she settled down anywhere.”
“And what did she say?”
“Oh, she was all for it. She said she certainly didn’t want to be stuck in this dreary corner of the world producing heirs for a laird.
She was a bright and gifted young woman, you know.
She wrote lovely poetry and plays that the girls put on.
Oh, they had such fun, those girls.” She paused, smiling at a memory. Melrose noticed she had dimples.
“Had you been her governess for long?”
“For about the last six years. She had been sharing her brother’s tutor until he turned ten, but when he went off to school she needed a governess. At first she was a shy little thing, very quiet and withdrawn, but then Flora arrived.”
“Ah yes,” he said. “Tell me about Flora.”
“Such an interesting child,” she said. “When she came she really could be called a wild thing. No idea how to use the proper utensils, how to take a bath or brush her hair. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be with us at all and resented any efforts on my part to civilize her.
But it was Lucy who achieved the miracle.
She took to Flora instantly, and the moment Flora had someone who cared about her, who loved her, everything changed.
Those two were thick as thieves. They did everything together.
Lucy wrote plays and they acted them for the family.
They had this huge dressing-up chest and they were so amusing.
They played every character, from Saint Joan to the old hags in Macbeth. ”
Her face lit up as she spoke, her eyes sparkling. Melrose smiled, too. “I can see they enjoyed having you as their governess.”
She nodded. “Yes. We got along very well. I tried my best to encourage and educate Lucy. I wished she could go on to university like her brother, but the family was against it. I said they should at least consider sending her to a finishing school on the Continent so she could learn how to behave in society.”
“And what did Sir Henry say to that?”
“He said that when she was married her husband could take her to Paris if he chose. He said there was no such thing as society in Scotland and he’d made up his mind that she’d marry Chisholm.”
“Goodness,” Melrose said. “That sounds very archaic.”
“Positively feudal.” Her eyes flickered with amusement. The absurd thought came to Melrose that he’d be happy looking at that face for the rest of his life. “If you believe in these things so strongly, why are you still here, teaching in a backwater?”
The amusement faded. “In case you don’t realize, it costs money to travel.
I’ve been saving up. That was why I took the job with Sir Henry.
It paid well, and when I met Lucy I felt sorry for her.
I probably have enough for a short trip abroad now, or I may look for a governess position in another country. If I can leave my father, that is.”
He saw the wave of pain cross her face. “Your father is not well?”
She shook her head. “He was gassed in the Great War. His chest has never recovered. He gets terrible bronchitis every winter. One day it will turn to pneumonia and finish him off.”
“And your mother?”
“Died years ago, when I was a child. She died giving birth to my sister, who also died. Life is hard up here. And life is cheap, as we see from what happened to Miss Lucy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Life is hard on the streets of Glasgow, too. So when did you leave the laird’s service?”
“He dismissed me a few weeks ago. He said I was putting rebellious ideas into Lucy’s head, and besides, her education was now finished.”
“Had Mr Stewart come to the island by then?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “A pleasant young man, if rather earnest. I joined them at dinner sometimes, when I was invited.”
“Did you notice any spark of attraction between Miss Lucy and Mr Stewart?”
She frowned. “I can’t say that I did. She paid him no attention. On the other hand I could see that Flora enjoyed flirting with him. But given her background I suppose that was natural for her.”
“How did Mr Stewart take the flirting?”
She smiled. “It made him quite embarrassed. He was a studious young man, I think. Not particularly one for the ladies.”
“And yet somehow he and Lucy met in secret and planned to run away together?”
She paused before saying, “I’ve been mulling this over, and it is my opinion that Lucy was using him.
She wanted to escape from Chisholm, and she wanted a way off the island.
Perhaps she feigned interest in Stewart to persuade him to elope with her, or perhaps it was more mundane—she paid him to take her over to the mainland. ”
Melrose was annoyed that he had not thought of this himself. Of course she had paid him. It made sense. She saw a way of escape and took it.
“Had Mr Chisholm arrived before you left?”
“A week or so before.”
“And what did you think of him?”
“If I had been Lucy I should not have wanted to marry him.”
“So tell me,” Melrose said, not wanting to end the interview. “Do you feel he was the sort of man who would rig a boat to drown a girl who rejected him?”
“Oh yes,” she said, then hesitated. “No, that’s wrong. I think he’s more the type who would have confronted her and shot or stabbed her. He’s the sort of man who would like the young woman to know who was killing her and to watch her feel fear before she died.”
“Miss Anderson, you are so perceptive,” he said. “I’ve learned more from you in five minutes than I have from every other interview.”
“Governesses are like furniture,” she said. “Nobody notices we are in the room. We have plenty of time for observation.”
“I should bring you down to Glasgow and put you on the force there,” he said jokingly.
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” she replied, but then blushed. “I meant I think I’d make quite a good policeman, I mean policewoman, if there are such things.”
“I believe there are in London at Scotland Yard,” he said.
“Then perhaps I should go to London.” She smiled at him. Then a sound from the school made her turn around. “I should go,” she said. “Those children have probably destroyed my entire classroom by now. They know I am reluctant to use the switch on them.”
He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t think of what that might be.
“Well, goodbye then,” he said lamely. “And thank you for your help.”
“Not at all. I’ve enjoyed talking to you. It’s not often we get outsiders here. Although I don’t think I’ve told you anything that will help you find out who caused Lucy to drown.”
“You’ve shown me that it might not have been love at all, but a means to escape. That changes everything.”
“Does it?” she asked. “She’s still dead. So is he.”