Annie loved spy films best. The bravery of those who risked their lives to serve their country filled her with pride, especially the women spies. Annie believed that women could do anything men could. She told that to her father once and he agreed with her. After seeing Dark Journey, Annie was captivated by dark-haired beauty Vivien Leigh. Miss Leigh played a French spy during the war. She was so brave, and she put her country before the man she loved. Annie thought of Miss Catherine, and how she stood up to Freddy Sykes. She thought if there was another war, Miss Catherine would make a wonderful spy.
She thought about these things as she let herself into the Carlisle house. She stood silent for a moment, listening for any signs of life in the house. As she stood in the quiet dark, she wondered if she would make a good spy. Would she be brave enough? These thoughts ran through her head as she took off her coat and carried it upstairs.
After she washed her face and cleaned her teeth, she reached under her pillow for her nightgown and found the envelope with her name written across the top. She tore it open and read Miss Catherine’s note. Tomorrow morning she would pack her things, and use the money Miss Catherine left to take a taxi to Bloomsbury. Annie decided to do her morning chores, ask Miss Isobel for her wages, and leave the Carlisle house at noon. She felt very grown up and in charge of her life.
She dreamt she was in her old house. She was in her room painting, secure in the knowledge that downstairs her dad was in his chair with the newspaper and her mum was in the kitchen making an apple pie. Someone rapped on the door. She waited, to see if her father would open it. But the knocking grew louder.
Annie awoke with a start. She wasn’t in her childhood room. She was in her room at the Carlisles’, and someone was indeed pounding on the front door. She sat up, wondering if she should get it. What if it’s Freddy Sykes? She decided to stay right where she was, thank you very much. She was alone in the house. It wasn’t her place to answer the door.
She sat up, alert, listening. Soon Isobel’s bedroom door slammed and her heavy footsteps pounded across the landing and down the stairs, followed by Marie’s lighter ones. Annie got up and stepped out in the corridor, where she could peer around the corner and see into the entryway below.
‘Who in the world is at the door at this hour?’ Marie asked. She followed Isobel down the stairs.
‘And why isn’t Benton answering?’ Isobel said. ‘Really this is too much.’
‘It’s Blackie,’ Marie said. ‘He’s probably forgotten his key.’
‘He’s probably inebriated,’ Isobel said. ‘I’m going to discuss this with Benton. Blackie needs medical help. He’s been drowning his pain in brandy since he arrived. I’m afraid he’s going to drink himself to death.’
‘Maybe Benton would let him get some treatment,’ Marie said. ‘I’ve heard they have hospitals where you can get a cure. It’s a very difficult course of treatment –’
‘Blackie, what are you doing?’ Isobel’s voice was kind.
‘Forgot my key.’ Hiccup. Hidden in the shadows, Annie peered around the corner at the scene downstairs. Blackie stepped into the hallway. He could barely stand. ‘Cousin Isobel, sorry to awake – woke – you.’ He fell sideways and hit the wall. ‘Had a bit of whisky with the chaps from the shop.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Isobel grabbed Blackie’s arm and helped him to stand. ‘Marie, take him to the sofa in the drawing room. I’ll make him some coffee.’
‘– thank you and Cousin Ben for taking me in. So grateful.’ Blackie was so drunk he could barely form a sentence. ‘So lucky to have family. So. Lucky.’
Isobel knocked on Benton’s door. ‘Ben?’ She knocked again, louder this time. ‘Benton? Are you in there?’
Annie heard a loud groan and a cry. ‘Help!’ Her heart stopped and she couldn’t move her feet. She watched, still as a statue, as Miss Isobel hurried away, only to come back seconds later with a key. She unlocked the door to Mr Carlisle’s study and hurried in. Annie could just make out Benton’s voice. ‘That bitch put something in my wine.’
Annie ran back up to her tiny room and locked herself in. She lay down and pretended to be asleep. Minutes later she heard Miss Isobel’s voice again. Annie got out of her bed and padded barefoot on the cold floor into Miss Catherine’s room. She switched on the light.
‘I demand you unlock this door immediately!’ Miss Isobel pounded on the door so hard the picture hanging on the wall near it fell to the ground, the glass shattering into a million splinters.
Annie stood still for a moment, unable to move, fondling the locket that hung around her neck. She opened the door. Miss Isobel pushed Annie aside and stepped across the threshold, nearly knocking her down. She stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, eyes wild with fury. Annie’s heart pounded. Miss Isobel moved in a slow circle, studying the room like a hawk ready to swoop on the unsuspecting mouse in the field. Marie arrived in the doorway, her face pale, her eyes frightened.
‘Izzy, what’s happened?’ She spoke in a gentle voice.
‘She’s tried to murder my brother.’ Miss Isobel went to the writing desk and opened the drawers, rifling through them.
Marie cast her eyes on Annie, who all of a sudden wished she could slip back into her own room, under the summer quilt with its bright colours, and sleep until this nightmare passed.
‘I don’t believe that for one minute, and neither do you.’ Marie stepped into the room and put a gentle hand on Isobel’s arm. ‘Come on. We must see to Benton.’
‘Benton is passed out in his office. He can barely stand. It seems his wife brought him a bottle of wine and put something in it,’ Isobel said. Something about the calm of her voice frightened Annie. She didn’t know what to do. If she moved, Isobel might notice her. She might accuse her of something. She waited, quiet and still, with a forced poise that she didn’t feel. She watched as Isobel walked over to the perfectly made bed. She pointed to it. ‘She hasn’t been to bed.’
‘But it’s early yet,’ Miss Marie said. ‘Maybe she’s gone to a cinema. Her handbag is gone.’
‘She’s tried to kill him. I know it.’ Miss Isobel moved over to the armoire that held Mrs Carlisle’s clothes. She opened both drawers and rummaged through the neat rows of dresses and suits. She pulled the hats off their shelves one by one, looking into each one as though searching for a clue. ‘She’s packed a bag.’
When Miss Isobel started to rummage through the drawers that contained Miss Catherine’s underthings, Miss Marie put a hand on her arm and spoke in a soft voice, as though she were speaking to a child. ‘She was going to Lydia’s, remember? Izzy, you’ll drive yourself mad with this. You know Benton’s been at his club drinking all day. It’s the day of his monthly meeting. Remember? This isn’t the first time he’s slept in his office. It won’t be his last –’
‘No.’ Miss Isobel pushed Miss Marie’s arm away. ‘She’s drugged him. Benton said as much. I believe my brother.’ She took one last survey of the room.
Isobel’s eyes lit on Annie. ‘You there, get dressed. Go downstairs and make a pot of strong tea.’ She turned on Marie. ‘Go to my medicine cabinet and get the ipecac. Benton must be the priority now. I’ll deal with Catherine later.’
Annie washed her face, dressed in a hurry, and rushed downstairs. She passed the drawing room, where Blackie was sprawled out, snoring in a rhythmic crescendo. Annie boiled the water and made the tea. It seemed to take for ever to steep. When it was ready, she added milk and sugar. She didn’t bother with a tray, just took the cup and a plate with a thick slice of bread and some butter. Her mum always said that sweet tea with bread and butter would cure anything.
The door to Mr Carlisle’s study was open. Annie stepped inside and set the cup and plate on a tray that rested atop a bookcase. She moved over to the corner near the window, out of everyone’s way, and settled in to wait. Mr Carlisle looked as though he were dead. He rested his head on the desk, cradling it in his bent arm. Annie saw the wine bottle, the empty glass. She wondered what it all meant.
Miss Isobel stood behind the desk, one hand on her brother’s shoulder. She rubbed his back with the other and made cooing noises. Miss Marie fiddled with a bottle of ipecac. She put a measure of it in a glass of water and handed it to Miss Isobel.
‘Ben, wake up. You need to drink this.’
Mr Carlisle barely managed to lift his head up, but Isobel forced him into a sitting position and poured the water down his throat. He swallowed some. Most of it ran down the front of his shirt.
‘Smelling salts,’ Isobel barked. Marie handed them over, the nurse to Isobel’s doctor. Isobel waved them under Benton’s nose. They revived him. He opened bleary eyes and stared at his sister. ‘Try and drink this, Ben. If she’s drugged you, you need to bring it up.’ She held the glass to his lips and this time he was able to drink half of the glass without spilling it.
‘No more,’ he said.
‘Finish it,’ Miss Isobel said. ‘Trust me.’ She held the glass to her brother’s lips, but Mr Carlisle took it from her and, with a shaking hand, tipped the glass back and drank until it was empty. ‘Now we wait. It takes fifteen minutes or so.’ She took a flannel cloth from Miss Marie and dabbed her brother’s forehead.
‘You can go to bed now, Annie,’ Miss Marie said. Miss Isobel nodded.
Annie fled to the safety of her room. She crawled back under the quilt, but try as she might, she couldn’t go back to sleep. When the grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight, Annie decided to go downstairs and get herself a cup of hot milk. She put on her dressing gown, and tiptoed into the hall. The house was quiet now. She headed down the stairs, until she heard voices coming from Mr Carlisle’s room. Annie tucked herself into one of the alcoves and eavesdropped. She knew that listening in to other’s conversations was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself.
‘I need your help, Ben,’ Miss Isobel pleaded. ‘If this gets out, I’ll be ruined. Alicia Montrose will shun me. My life as I know it will be over.’
Mr Carlisle spoke in a softer voice. Annie strained to hear what he said.
‘Alicia Montrose is the least of your worries. She doesn’t care who you sleep with, Isobel. You should know that.’
‘I’m begging you, as a sister. It’s not too much. Let’s pay and end this once and for all.’
Mr Carlisle spoke. His words flew hard and sharp, like arrows. ‘That’s just the problem, Isobel. Blackmailers don’t stop. You’ll pay now, and they’ll come back for more and continue on this way until there’s nothing left. Why are you protecting this person? Tell me who’s doing this to you, and I’ll take care of it.’
‘And ruin me in the process,’ Isobel said.
‘You should have been more discreet. Now if you don’t mind I feel as though I’m going to be sick –’
‘It’s not polite to eavesdrop.’ A voice whispered in her ear. Annie jumped. Miss Marie. How long had she been there?
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I couldn’t sleep. I wanted milk, and I heard shouting –’ Annie wanted to die with shame.
‘It’s all right, child. I heard the shouting, too. Now go back to bed. All will be well in the morning.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ She hurried back to her room and crawled into bed. But sleep didn’t come. She was still awake when the sun crept into the sky, and for the first time since she’d been working at the Carlisle house, she did not look forward to the new day.
Annie found Miss Isobel and Miss Marie in the kitchen. Miss Isobel was drinking tea and reading the newspaper while Miss Marie cracked eggs into a skillet. Annie watched them for a moment, taking in the cosy domesticity, before she stepped into the room.
‘Miss Isobel?’
She peered at Annie over the top of her paper. ‘Yes?’
‘I’ll be going to Miss Carlisle’s aunt’s today. I thought I’d do my chores this morning before I leave,’ Annie said. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her and waited for Miss Isobel’s certain condemnation.
‘Very well. Thank you for staying the morning and for your help last night. I’ll get your wages before you leave.’ She buried herself in the paper. Annie did her best to disguise the relief that washed over her.
‘If you’ll start in Mr Carlisle’s study, I’ll have breakfast for you when you’ve finished,’ Marie said.
‘Thank you.’ Annie grabbed her box of supplies and hurried to the study.