AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gillian picked up the papers and frowned at them. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It is. Looking back into Missus Pritchard’s life, I found out she had three biological children. None of them lived past the age of three. All of them are listed as ‘sickened and died’, and all of those death records were signed off by–”
“–Doctor James Turner,” Gillian said, as she shuffled the papers to look at each of them. “This isveryunusual for him. I’ve seen his office records, since the practice passed from him to my father, and from my father to me. The old goat was nothing if not thorough about his notes. I’ve seen him leave three pages of notes for freezing off a wart, for God’s sake. ‘Sickened and died’? That’s rubbish.”
Hanna folded her hands in her lap. “I thought it was a little suspicious.”
“It wasn’t uncommon during that time, but for him, it’sverysuspicious. That’s not the James Turner I knew.” She gestured to the printouts. “Can I keep these?”
“Certainly. I wondered if maybe you had any of his old records, or writings from the time. After finding the name tag, and all this odd information, I’m very curious to trace down what happened at Greenhill Hall.” A very gentle omission of pieces of truth. Hanna was very curious to find out what had happened. That she wanted to know to help a lingering ghost didn’t seem relevant.
“Now I am, too.” Gillian sat back again, thoughtful. “My grandfather left a trunk of journals to my father, who claims to have never read them. That’s tosh. He reads everything. More than that, he’s refused to let me see them, and won’t put them up for display. Says he doesn’t want them to be damaged by light and the elements, but they’re just as likely to get musty in that trunk.”
Hanna pursed her lips. “Can you get hold of them?”
Gillian smirked. “Easily. Dad’s gone on two-week cruise with my mother. They spend half the year flitting about the globe, now that he’s retired. I’m watering their plants this week. I’ll break into his office and get it.”
“Break in?”
“He locks the door. Except it’s one of those locks you can pick with a paperclip and a stern look. Besides, he’s got a fern in there he always forgets exists. My mother sneaks in to water it.” Gillian shook her head in amusement. “Man’s got more brains than common sense sometimes. I’ll get your journals. However. You have to do something for me.”
Hanna raised an eyebrow. “What can I help with?”
“My father says my grandfather used to complain he’d left records up at Greenhill Hall. He’d taken them up there for safekeeping when there were warnings of air raids, then he never got them back. My father thought about inquiring with you lot about if you’d found them, but then my mother dragged him off to Tahiti. She takes his retirement very seriously, you see.”
Gregory spoke up. “I think I know where they are. The realtor told us there were some boxes of old papers and things left in the basement. I’ve been so busy, I forgot about them. You’re welcome to look through them, and if they’re your grandfather’s, they’re all yours.”
“That would be splendid, thank you. When can I come by? I’ll bring the journals so we can swap.”
Hanna glanced at Gregory. “Would Sunday be all right? Gillian’s office will be closed, and she and I can have lunch while you rest off the party.”
Gregory nodded. “That should be fine. I’ll join you for lunch if I’ve managed to recover by then. Talking to sane, reasonable people might be a good antidote to that mess.”
Gillian asked, “Got a big to-do at the Maison de Fancypants?”
That earned a laugh from Gregory. “We do, in fact. Company meeting, and I like you too much to say I’d send you an invitation. No one wants that. Instead, how about I say we’ll have leftover party food for lunch?”
“Second-hand fancy food will suit me just fine.” Gillian grinned. “Though I’ll definitely skip the party. Maybe there’s a nice plague outbreak I could attend instead.”
“Can I come?” Gregory said. “It sounds like more fun than what I have planned.”
“Naturally. That kind of fun is contagious.”
He groaned. Hanna laughed. “Thank you, Gillian. We’ll leave you to your day. Come right up to the door on Sunday.”
“That sounds lovely.” Gillian stood along with them to see them out. “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you for thinking to give me a shout, Hanna. I’m fascinated by this entire business. My grandfather’s work during World War II has been sort of a personal mystery for me. I’m pleased to have the chance to solve it.”
“I get the feeling you’ll have answers, even if they’re not very pleasant.”
“The past often isn’t. Better to have the truth and learn from it than to write yourself a more palatable lie.”
Hanna thought about Julia Dawson, about Stuart Marsh who endured a purgatory perhaps built upon lies. And Hanna thought about the secrets and withheld truths that had shaped Darlene Pierce’s existence and turned her into an angry, bitter woman who didn’t know how to love her son.
“That’s very true,” Hanna said. “That’s very, very true.”
* * *
By the timethey arrived home, with the sun low on the western horizon, Gregory was riding high on a wave of happiness and anticipation. Though part of him, a logical and thus uninteresting part, told him the giddy contentment came from a few hours without the need to think about stressful work matters, he enjoyed the majority opinion more.
