4:50 from Paddington - Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

‘I can’t understand you.’ Cedric Crackenthorpe stepped down from the wall of an old pigsty and looked at Lucy Eyelesbarrow. ‘What can’t you understand?’

‘What you’re doing here?’

‘I’m doing my job.’

‘As a servant?’

‘Servant, indeed! I’m a Professional Household Help.’

‘You can’t like all the things you have to do.’

Lucy laughed. ‘Not everything, perhaps, but cooking satisfies my wish to be creative, and I really enjoy making things tidy.’

‘I don’t like things to be tidy,’ said Cedric.

‘Yes, I can see that.’

Some bricks fell out of the pigsty and Cedric turned to look inside it. ‘Dear old Madge used to live here. She was such a friendly animal and such a good mother. We used to come here and scratch her back with a stick. She loved it.’

‘Why has this whole place been allowed to get into such a state? It can’t only be the war.’

‘You’d like to tidy this up, too, I suppose?’ He paused. ‘No, it’s not only the war. It’s my father. He refuses to spend any money on the place. Of course he hates all of us - except perhaps Emma. That’s because of my grandfather’s will. Although now he’s got nearly as big a fortune as my grandfather left, while all of us…’ He stopped as Emma came through the door of the kitchen garden. ‘Hello, Emma. You’re looking a bit upset.’

‘I want to talk to you, Cedric.’

‘I must get back to the house,’ said Lucy.

Cedric’s eyes followed her as she walked away. ‘Good looking girl. Who is she really?’

‘Oh, she’s quite well-known,’ said Emma. ‘But forget Lucy Eyelesbarrow, the police think that the dead woman was foreign, perhaps French. Cedric, you don’t think she could possibly be - Martinet’

For a moment or two Cedric just looked at her. ‘Martinet’

‘Yes. She sent that telegram at about the same time… Do you think she might, after all, have come down here and…’

‘Nonsense. Why would Martine come down here and go to the Long Barn?’

‘You don’t think, perhaps, that I ought to tell Inspector Bacon - or the other one?’

‘Tell him what?’

‘Well - about Martine. About her letter.’

‘Now don’t start making things complicated, Emma. I was never sure that letter was from Martine, anyway.’

‘I was. And I really am worried. I don’t know what I ought to do.’

‘Nothing,’ said Cedric. ‘Never go halfway to meet trouble, that’s my advice.’

Emma turned and went slowly back to the house. As she reached the drive, Doctor Quimper came out and walked towards her.

‘Well, Emma, murder has given your father a new interest in life. I must tell that to my other patients.’

Emma smiled but her eyes remained troubled.

‘Is something wrong?’ Dr Quimper asked.

‘I am worried, yes.’

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘Yes, because I don’t know what to do. You remember what I once told you about my brother Edmund - the one who was killed in the war?’

‘You mean that he had married - or had wanted to marry - a French girl?’

‘Yes. Almost immediately after I got that letter, he was killed. We never heard anything about the girl. All we knew was her first name. We thought she would contact us, but she didn’t. We never heard anything - until about a month ago, just before Christmas.’

‘You got a letter, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Saying she was in England and would like to come and see us. It was all arranged and then, suddenly, she sent a message that she had to return to France.’

‘Well?’

‘The police think that the murdered woman - was French.’

‘They do, do they? Are you worried that she might be your brother’s girl?’

‘Yes.’

‘I think it’s unlikely,’ said Dr Quimper.

‘I’m wondering if I ought to tell the police about it all. Cedric and the others say it’s unnecessary. What do you think?’

Dr Quimper was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘It’s much simpler if you say nothing. I can understand what your brothers feel about it. But…’

‘Yes?’

He looked at her and smiled. ‘I would just tell them. You’ll keep worrying if you don’t. I know you.’

Emma’s face went a little pink. ‘I’m probably being silly.’

‘You do what you want to do, Emma - and forget the rest of the family! I would back your judgment against them any day.’