Page 29 of Fire Must Burn

‘I’ll call tomorrow,’ he promised.

‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘So, what else can I tell you? Did you hear about the fire at Heffer and Sons’ Bookshop?’

‘No!’ he exclaimed. ‘How bad?’

‘They promised they’ll reopen,’ she said. ‘Some poor nutter did it. They said he was also sending hand grenades through the post …’

And all she could think as they continued catching up was that Stage Two had commenced.

FOUR

She had to keep herself from pouncing on the telephone each time it rang the next morning, waiting impatiently for Mrs Billington to take the call in the next office. Gwen finally picked up the telephone and placed it on her own desk, ignoring each ring with a placidity that Iris found more and more irritating as the morning crawled along.

Finally, the intercom buzzed. Iris flipped the switch before it had even finished.

‘Yes, Saundra?’

‘There is a Mr Danforth on the line,’ said Mrs Billington. ‘He said he had spoken to you about coming in for an appointment.’

‘He did,’ said Iris. ‘When would he like to see us?’

‘Well, he can only break away during his lunch hour, and that’s when the two of you usually take lunch.’

‘Tell him to come in then. We can send out for sandwiches afterwards.’

‘Very good, Miss Sparks.’

‘But—’ began Gwen.

Iris had already disconnected. She looked over at her partner, who appeared perturbed for the first time that morning.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘I had a, um, lunch – appointment,’ said Gwen.

‘Nothing you couldn’t break, surely,’ said Iris. ‘Duty calls, darling, and I really need you for this. In fact, I think you should take the lead in the interview, given my prior history with him.’

‘No, no, you’re right, this is what we … right, I’d better—,’ said Gwen, reaching for the telephone and dialling a number.

‘It’s me,’ she said softly. ‘Sorry, something’s come up at work, so I can’t make it. No, tonight is still on. Yes, I’m sorry. I was looking forward to it, too. What were you—’

She lowered her voice. Iris studiously concentrated on reading through her index cards of possible candidates for Miss Ford, the switchboard operator from the previous week.

‘Oh! Really?’ continued Gwen, blushing deeply. ‘That is a pity. That sounds … quite lovely, in fact. Keep it in the queue. I’ll see you later.’

She hung up.

‘I both don’t want to know and want very much to know,’ said Iris. ‘Either way, sorry.’

‘I’m sorry if I seem … eager,’ said Gwen. ‘I feel as if I’m making up for lost time.’

‘Nothing to apologise for, darling,’ said Iris. ‘I’m happy for the both of you.’

‘Anything in particular you want me to ask Mr Danforth about?’

‘No, follow your instincts. It’s all right to tell him that I mentioned him to you.’

‘Of course,’ said Gwen. ‘Jump in when I’m floundering. Oh, that reminds me.’