“Is that the frock Gretchen made?” Howard asked.

“Yes. It’s by far my favorite—she made it so beautifully.”

“It suits you very well.”

“People always admire it.”

Jean noticed the way he had managed to praise her appearance while at the same time acknowledging Gretchen, to demonstrate that there was nothing furtive in his compliment.

They were still standing, somewhat provisionally, on the pavement, now and then having to stand aside for other pedestrians and in full view of the large upper windows of the editorial offices. Out of the corner of her eye Jean could see Muriel from Accounts gazing down at her with undisguised curiosity.

“I’m keeping you from your lunch,” said Howard, following the direction of her upward glances.

“Not really,” said Jean.

She had now missed the trolley, which delivered sandwiches and cake and tea to the offices, and would have to go to the bakery in the high street instead. Their conversation, so natural and open at Aunt Edie’s, now felt stilted and evasive. It was no mystery: by confiding in each other they had set up a false intimacy, which excluded Gretchen and placed them in a perilous position of near conspiracy, from which she could sense Howard retreating. His reference to Gretchen was his way of signaling his rededicated loyalty.

“Howard,” said Jean quietly. “All those things I told you about myself. I didn’t expect you to keep anything secret from Gretchen. You mustn’t think . . .”

He put his hand on her arm and shook his head so urgently that she stopped.

“Don’t,” he said. “We don’t need to say anything. We understand each other perfectly as it is. There’s nothing to be said. Or done.”

For a moment their gaze held and Jean could read in his unhappy expression all that he was feeling and at the same time the impossibility that he could ever act on it, or even speak of it. But it was enough.

“Nothing,” she promised, her heart singing as she watched him get in his car and drive off, home to his wife.

19

Dear Miss Swinney,

I am taking the unusual step of writing to you regarding the ongoing tests on Mother and Daughter. They failed to attend the scheduled appointment for the serum protein electrophoresis test and Mother has not responded to my follow-up letter of inquiry.

I wonder if you could use your influence to iron out whatever seems to be the problem and reassure her that this procedure is very simple (for the patient at least; the analysis is rather more complex, but that is our business), requiring no more than a blood sample. All of us involved in this experiment are very excited by the findings so far and keen to press on as far as the science will take us.

If hardship is an issue, we may be able to assist with travel costs. Perhaps that is also something your newspaper might consider.

I await your early response.

Yours,