‘How in the world did you find me?’

Briefly, Miss Mayfield explained.

‘I thought I’d been so clever. A plain envelope with a London postmark might get opened, I thought. But insurance and circulars, everybody gets them. . . .’ She turned back to the stove, placed the spoon back in the saucepan, and turned off the gas with a little plop. She set the screen carefully in place, hiding the stove. When she faced the room and Miss Mayfield again, she had recovered her composure.

‘Do sit down,’ she said, pulling forward the armchair. ‘I’m sorry you caught me in such a mess.’ She eyed the blue cloak and a basket of groceries on the floor by the settee with disapproval. ‘My hours are a bit awkward. Six to eleven I work in the mornings; shop on my way back and make a meal against when Sydney comes home; then back on duty from two till six. That way, I’m here in the evenings and at the weekend, so he isn’t roaming the streets.’

‘It sounds an excellent arrangement. How is Sydney?’

‘Oh, he’s fine. He’s at school – about fifteen minutes on the bus. Only a modern secondary; but I saw the Headmaster, and he seemed sensible. He said he’d keep his eye on Sydney, and if he was as good as I seemed to think, he’d see he wasn’t held back. Most likely he’ll go on to the technical; he’s handy, Sydney is.’

She spoke brightly, she smiled; only her elusive, flickering glance betrayed an inner lack of ease.

‘I’m so glad that things worked out well for you. I did often wonder.’

‘We were very lucky. Finding this place to live, for instance; within walking distance for me. I’m at St Philip’s. Did you come by the recreation ground? Big red building on the corner. Shockingly understaffed, of course. They were glad to take me, I may tell you. So you’re in London for the weekend?’

‘I came to find you. Mrs Baines, I want your help. At least,’ she added hastily, seeing that wild flicker of the eyes, ‘I just want to ask you a few questions.’

Mrs Baines’s expression set and hardened.

‘Look, if it’s about Walwyk, you’re wasting your time. I don’t want to talk about it, or think about it, or remember it. I got out. For me, it’s all finished and done with. If you had any sense, you’d do the same.’

‘I can’t,’ Miss Mayfield said simply. ‘You see, there’s Ethel. She’s disappeared. I’m terribly worried about her. I think they’ve hidden her somewhere. I did wonder whether you could give me any idea where she could be.’