“Yes?” I took over the sorting, gently placing carrots, cabbage, brussels sprouts, and more spring asparagus into boxes I’d brought out for the purpose. “Tell me what it is, and we can work through it together. Is your brother all right?”
“Tommy’s well, thank you. It’s Caleb what’s upsetting me.”
I paused, asparagus stalks dangling from my hand. “Oh dear. He hasn’t given you the push, has he? Or did you him?”
“No, nothing like that,” Tess said quickly. “Only, Caleb has been promoted, you see. He’s been made a detective.”
I blinked at her. “Has he, the dear boy? That’s good news, is it not?”
“So I thought.” Tess looked mournful. “But he won’t be walking his beat anymore, will he? I won’t see him stroll by so I can go out and have a chat.” Tears welled in her eyes, which she blinked resolutely away. “He’s not sure what his day out will be, if he has one, so it might not be the same as mine. Add to that, he won’t talk about what he’s going to do. Might be writing reports on a typing machine, for all I know. I asked him, and he came over all quiet. Wouldn’t say much of anything on the rest of our walk home.”
I laid down the asparagus and patted her shoulder in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Tess. It’s hard to be sweet on a policeman. Well I know this. It might be difficult for the moment, but when Caleb is in a routine, and you know when you’ll see him, things will be easier. And he’ll have better pay now, won’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s chuffed about a rise. But I feel like it’s taking him away from me.” Tess’s face was so downcast my heart squeezed.
“It will feel like that sometimes, yes. The best thing we can do is be kind to our blokes while they’re answering to their bosses, and be there for them when they need to take their minds off their troubles. Chasing criminals is a difficult business.”
Tess sent me a grateful glance, but her eyes held a wry sparkle. “Is that why you scold Mr.McAdam about staying away long stretches and not sending word?”
I flushed. “Daniel expects me to scold him.” I longed for him to be here so I could.
Tess’s face fell again. “Mr.McAdam does come around almost every day when he can. Caleb won’t be able to.”
I had no answer for that, so I patted her shoulder once more. “If your day out needs to change, I’ll make certain there is no objection.”
“Even if it’s Thursday?” Tess asked.
I hid a wince. “The time I spend with Grace is important, not which day it is. You’ll go even on a Thursday. I’ll change too if I have to.”
Tess relaxed. “You’re that good to me, Mrs.Holloway.”
I knew when she used my full surname that she truly was grateful. I returned to the produce.
“At the moment, neither of us has a day out,” I reminded her. “We must get on with the master’s dinner.”
“Right you are, Mrs.H.”
As I resumed sorting and deciding how I’d use each vegetable, I pondered Caleb’s news.
Would he work for someone sensible, like Inspector McGregor, or had Monaghan somehow seized hold of the lad? Caleb, a good-humored young man, never hesitated to talk about his work, within reason, of course. His sudden reticence plucked at my suspicions.
Likely Caleb simply didn’t know what to tell Tess, because this was all new to him. Even so, I remained uneasy, and Tess was unnaturally quiet as we turned our hands to cooking.
* * *
Thursday morning, I left the house as soon as I could, determined not to let anyone—Mrs.Bywater with a last-minute request, Cynthia abducting me to pump me for information, or the multitude of spies following me—keep me from my time with Grace.
Hannah had requested a meeting in Leicester Square as soon as the pubs opened, which meant early afternoon. I could hardly take my daughter with me, so I explained to Grace and Joanna once I reached their house that I had to run an errand.
They both were surprised, as I never disappeared during my visits, but when I explained it had to do with Daniel, they rather shooed me on my way.
I took a circuitous route to keep off any pursuers, sticking to the areas of Fleet Street and the Strand. To come at Leicester Square from the north would mean cutting through the warrens of St. Giles and Seven Dials, which held far more potential danger than the most violent anarchists could imagine.
Hannah hadn’t specified which pub in Leicester Square, but I chose the one that had opened earliest. If she wasn’t there, I’d look in the others until I found her.
This public house lay on the north side of the square, its taproom already full of local men, who’d come in for luncheon and a pint. Ladies were allowed only in the snug, a small room down a corridor from the front door. This suited me for a clandestine meeting, and I made my way there.
The only person in the snug at the moment was an elderly woman swathed in a dark shawl, who stared in distaste at a cup of tea on the table before her. Her body odor was a bit unfortunate.
