I was dying to tell her that I knew about the baby. I was trying to think of a way I could ask if she knew who the father was.

“So tell me.” I leaned forward. “What does she think about Prince George getting married? I mean, we all knew that she and the prince were . . . quite close . . . at some stage.”

Her expression became guarded. “Are you sure you’re not one of those reporters? What do you really mean, coming here and asking me all these questions? You’ll get nothing more out of me.”

“I meant no harm, honestly,” I said. “And I’m not any kind of reporter. I was just concerned, that’s all. It’s not like Bobo to vanish completely from London society.”

I had been looking around the room as we spoke. My gaze had focused on the mantelpiece. I decided to act. I stood up. “I won’t trouble you any longer, Mrs. Boyle,” I said. “But I wonder—you don’t happen to have the kettle on for tea, do you? It’s icy cold out there today.”

“I do.” She said it grudgingly. “I’ll get you a cup.”

The moment she left the room I made for the mantelpiece and picked up the postcard. It was a picture of the south coast. Greetings from Worthing-on-Sea. I turned it over and read, Everything fine. Don’t worry. Home soon. Kathleen. And the postmark was not Worthing but Goring-by-Sea. I only just managed to return it to its place before she brought me the cup of tea. It was extremely strong and sweet, but I drank it with an expression of enjoyment, then put it down on the nearest table. “I’ll be off, then. I’m so sorry to have bothered you. If you do hear from Bobo, please tell her I’ve been trying to get hold of her. My name’s Belinda Warburton-Stoke.”

“As I said, she’s back in London, as far as I know. Back at her old place. You’ll see her soon enough.”

“And she is still trying to survive without a maid?” I said. “Why is she doing that?”

“I gather the last girl didn’t prove satisfactory. And it’s easier just to have someone come in and clean. Less complicated, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I can see that.” I nodded. “Well, thanks awfully, Mrs. Boyle.”