Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PrologueAn Interview
- NowA Discovery
- ThenBlack Star Sapphire
- NowThe Girl with the Two-Coloured Eye
- ThenHuman Asset
- NowThe Two Tunnels
- ThenThe Plague Pit
- NowThe Backwards House
- ThenThe Forgotten Things
- NowThe Woman in the Room
- ThenA Quarrel
- NowThe Excursion
- ThenProvocations
- NowFurther Warnings
- ThenEavesdropping
- NowPersistence
- ThenConcealment
- NowThe Robin
- ThenStartling Intelligence
- NowThe Visit
- ThenA Meeting
- NowAn Assault
- ThenApril Fool
- NowAn Ambush
- ThenThe Handkerchief Tree
- NowThe Doors With No Knobs
- ThenA Misadventure
- NowA Misdemeanour
- ThenThe Studio
- NowFurther Intelligence
- ThenThe Spin Out
- NowIllegal Entry
- ThenThe Memory Box
- NowThe Choice
- ThenThe Drowning Place
- NowThorpe Hall
- NowThe Miniature
- NowThe Present
- Acknowledgements
- For Those Affected by the Issues in This Novel
- About the Author
- Also by Claire Kendal
- About the Publisher
‘Tell me more, Holly.’ That jagged curtain of hair was one of Maxine’s tactics for hiding, though I managed a glimpse of hooded eyes that were grey that day but could easily be changed with contact lenses.
‘I think Peggy wanted – she still wants – to protect me. To mother me, even.’ I was saying too much when I needed to be spare in my answers. Part of what Maxine was testing was that I could be reserved, even under pressure.
‘And Peggy’s husband is around – James Hargraves. What is he like?’ Maxine pushed her hair behind her ears. Not a Maxine gesture. Her mascara and eyeliner were heavy. She had gone for her usual indigo. No ordinary black for her. The foundation was caked on. Maxine was a woman of many faces.
‘He runs the town pharmacy.’
‘And?’
‘James is very kind, but he doesn’t say much.’
I didn’t explain that it was as if Peggy had such a lot to say there was nothing left for James – and they both seemed to like it that way.
‘Very kind? That’s mild. You aren’t damming by faint praise?’
‘There is a lot to be said for real kindness.’ As soon as the words were out, I wanted to take them back – she was going to think I was judging her, that I was rebuking her.
‘I agree,’ she said, but this didn’t make me relax. ‘And your grandmother is fond of the Hargraves family? As fond as you clearly are?’
‘My grandmother hates pretty much everybody.’
Maxine laughed, something I hadn’t seen her do even once during the residential phase of the recruitment process, which she was leading. Along with the other aspiring intelligence officers, I watched Maxine as if she were a superstar.
‘But she worships James,’ I said.
‘You are admirably loyal, Holly, aren’t you? Am I correct in thinking that you gave up your place at Exeter University to look after your grandmother? You were going to read Modern Languages?’
‘I couldn’t leave my grandmother alone. I’d been trying to delay putting her in a nursing home, so I enrolled on a BA in English at Falmouth instead of the Exeter course – I can commute to Falmouth pretty easily from our house. I’m due to graduate this summer.’
‘You’re predicted a first.’
‘Yes. And I took every evening course they offered in French, Spanish and German, to try to compensate for not being able to do Modern Languages. I’m fluent in all three – I studied them in school too.’
‘You got As for all three at A level, and an A in English Literature. Correct?’
‘Yes. And I can get by in Italian. I’ve been working towards a career in the Security Service for as long as I can remember.’