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I fumble reaching for them. My thoughts fly to Mimi, who works at the florist shop and who probably created this arrangement. “These are beautiful. No one’s given me flowers before.”

“Then you have been stepping out with rather poor blokes.”

A grin bursts forth at both his statement and his tone. “I suspect I have.”

“Shall we?” He opens the passenger door.

I spin back towards my door, partly chastising myself for doing the one thing I said I wasn’t going to do and partly congratulating myself for getting in a good spin so naturally. “Let me run these upstairs and put them in water. They’re too beautiful to waste.”

A hint of satisfaction spreads over his face.

I race upstairs, put the flowers in a milk jug, fill it with water, then spend a moment checking my hair and lipstick. My curls are already dropping, but that was inevitable. My dark hair is heavy. The curls were never going to stay no matter how long I left the rollers in. As for the lipstick—spot on. It’s a new Max Factor color that was featured in Vogue earlier this fall, Red Is for Roses, and at my suggestion we just got it into the store. I’ve already sold five tubes.

All checked and approved once more, I leg it down the stairs to find Charlie standing ready with the car’s passenger door open for me.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

I drop into the seat, and once he’s in with the engine started, we pull away from the curb. I run my hand over the pristine seat bench. “How long have you had this beauty?”

“My dad’s a mechanic in Woodstock. He got this in about a year ago when I moved back from London. We’ve been fixing it up whenever I visit. I think it was his way of thanking me without saying anything.”

“Thanking you?”

“I came back to help out more. Dad’s getting on in age and Mum’s sad. At the time Woodstock didn’t have any openings in their constabulary. But Great Rollright is close enough.” Charlie reaches behind me and pulls a wool blanket from the back seat and drapes it, eyes on the road, onto my lap. “I thought this might be wanted. It’s chilly tonight.”

“Thank you.” I unfold the blanket across my lap and shift on the bench. “How are they now?”

“Splendid. My sister moved to her own flat with friends, but she’s in Oxford, so close enough to drop by often. Dad got more help at the shop. And my coming home for Sunday roasts has gotten Mum smiling again.” He sends me a sly glance. “I’d say my work is done, to great success, but I still haven’t gotten her sticky toffee pudding yet.”

I feel a quickening in my stomach. One of those darn butterflies got loose. “So that’ll be all?”

“You mean am I going back to London?” He laughs at my round and unblinking eyes. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Not at all,” I say too loudly, too swiftly.

“I’m joking.” He returns his attention to the road. “I’ll stick around a bit longer. I like it more than I thought I would.”

“I’m glad.” I settle beneath the blanket. “Now tell me the story.”

“What story?”

“Of Mr. Lombard, of course.”

“Really, I should be asking that question of you,” he counters. “I didn’t have evidence so I told him what I was thinking, which was merely reciting what you said, and he crumbled. He turned crimson and confessed to everything on the spot.”

“Amazing.”

“How’d you do it?” Charlie glances at me again. “We caught a man for burglary all because you thought a dog’s bark was missing from the story?”

I think back to yesterday with Ursula, to what she called a talent whereas I dismiss it as a parlor trick. I try her perspective on for size. “I see things, notice them, and almost like a kaleidoscope, at some point they click into place. Like a film that’s always before me, but in my mind.” Out the window the sky is clear with a full moon. These are always the coldest nights.

“And it wasn’t a dog so much as an oddity regarding the dog. It always barks. It’s vicious and mean, and there is no way anyone could come to that house without those three hearing it.”

As he hasn’t outright dismissed me yet, I continue. “Like the film we’re going to tonight. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been to the cinema and noticed when a scene cuts away and comes back, but something has changed. The glass will be in the wrong place, the flowers missing from the table. It can be something big, something small, but that’s what I notice. It drove the girls at the boardinghouse where I used to live crazy when we went to a film.”

I bite my lip. “I can’t believe I shared that. I promise I won’t do it tonight. I won’t say a word. Full stop. Starting now.” I press my lips shut to stop my nervous chattering.

“No. Please do. It won’t bother me a bit. In fact, I hope you do find something.”