Page 2

chapter two

James was waiting for her when she got back to the Metropolitan traffic warden center.

He was leaning against the wall, head turned her way to watch her approach.

Her heart did a little leap in her chest.

She hadn’t seen him for two weeks, although he’d told her he was coming back from his trip to Cardiff yesterday, which was a Sunday.

He looked tired.

She came to a stop in front of him and wished they weren’t out on the street, in front of her work, or she would have stepped into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

He studied her face. “Go get out of your uniform, and we can go somewhere for tea.”

His Welsh accent was a little stronger than usual, the two weeks in Wales giving back what he’d lost after a year in London.

“Give me ten minutes,” she said, biting back what she really wanted to say, and slipped past him, up the steps. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the cool, slightly musty smelling entrance.

The passage echoed to the sound of her hard-soled shoes on the linoleum as she made her way to her boss’s office. Mr. Greenberg would want to know that one of his wardens had encountered a dead body on the beat.

He probably already knew, but she had a feeling he would expect her to tell him herself.

He was in his office, with the door open. “Miss Farnsworth.” He looked up as she knocked lightly, and gestured her in.

“Afternoon, Mr. Greenberg. Did the Chelsea nick tell you about the body?”

Mr. Greenberg got to his feet. “The body?”

They obviously hadn’t had time yet. Or Mr. Greenberg didn’t have a friend there.

“Some boys found a dead woman and approached me, because of the uniform,” she said.

“Where?” He turned to the massive map hanging on the wall behind him.

She stepped around his desk and pointed.

“The old Billick building? The bomb site?” He sounded astonished.

“She was half hidden under the rubble.” Gabrielle realized she was gripping her satchel extra tight.

“What did you do?” Greenberg asked.

“Fortunately Constable Evans was walking his beat and I hailed him. He stood guard and I went to get help from the nick. Then I carried on with my route.” She had been relieved that they didn’t think she needed to go back. Almost embarrassingly relieved.

“Well, I’m sorry for that. Did you see the body?” Mr. Greenberg tapped the spot on the map, and then picked up a red pin from the little shelf below the map, and stuck it in.

“Briefly, just to check the boys weren’t mistaken.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and began to reverse out of the room. “I just thought I’d let you know, sir.”

“Appreciate it, Miss Farnsworth.” Mr. Greenberg was still studying the map.

She left him to it, going back to the change rooms and getting out of her uniform.

She was pulling on her boots when Liz came in.

“I see Mr. Detective is out there waiting for you,” she said as she flopped down on the bench. “Haven’t seen him for a while.”

“He went home to see his parents. His mother is ill.” She hoped Mrs. Archer was better. She knew it worried James that he was so far away.

“And now he’s here, waiting for you straight after work.” Liz grinned. Then she gave Gabriella’s outfit a good once over. “It’ll do,” she said with a nod.

It forced a laugh out of Gabriella. Liz had a knack of doing that. “Ta very much.” She mimicked Liz’s favorite saying.

“You have a good evening.” There was no subtlety in Liz’s eyebrow waggle.

There was no subtlety in Liz, full stop. Gabriella liked her all the more for it.

She gave a wave and left out the front for a change.

James was still leaning against the wall, eyes closed, one foot up against the bricks.

He opened his eyes as she ran down the steps.

“You look tired,” she said, hooking her arm through his. “Take me to a grocer’s and I’ll make you dinner.”

His eyes lit up at that. “You’re sure?”

“I never joke about food.”

* * *

Mr. Rodney was at the Calypso Club, Gabriella guessed as they arrived at her building. All the lights were out in his ground floor flat.

She led the way up the stairs, with James carrying the bag of groceries. Jerome’s flat was silent, too, and Gabriella guessed he’d probably walked Mr. Rodney over to the club.

“How’s your mother?” she asked when they were through the door. James set the groceries down on her little table and she began to lay out the ingredients she needed for the meal. She had wanted to ask him earlier, but something had made her wait until they had some privacy.

“She seems to be better,” James said. “It wasn’t as bad as I imagined, although she could have been putting on a good front for me so I wouldn’t worry.”

He stood beside the table, looking a little unsure of himself.

“Do you think she was doing that?” Gabriella asked, pulling out her chopping board.

He flexed his hands as he lifted his shoulders. “I hope not.”

She didn’t understand why, but she had the sense he was standing on the edge of a precipice, looking down, and pushed her own shyness and vulnerabilities to the side.

She moved to stand right in front of him, lifted her arms around his neck and lifted up on her toes to kiss him. “It’s nice to have you back,” she murmured.

He sighed, as if relieving himself of a heavy weight, and drew her closer, kissed her like a man who’d been thinking of kissing her for a while.

“Nice to be back.” He held her close to him, his hand running up and down her back as if to convince himself she was really there.

They were stepping out together, as Liz would say, but this felt more. More serious.

They had kept things light, or tried to, after the intensity of the investigation Gabriella had gotten swept up in a few months ago, but she had really missed him when he’d gone up to his parents, and she guessed, from the way he held her now, that he had missed her, too.

“Something’s wrong,” she said, tipping her head back to look at him.

He hesitated. “My boss. Whetford. Coming back from a break made me realize how difficult he really is.”

Gabriella had had the misfortune of being questioned by Whetford in the past, and she thought he was more than just difficult, but she gave a nod. “I met him, remember?”

James frowned down at her. “I’d forgotten that.”

“What’s he done?” she asked, stepping back reluctantly to put water on to boil.

James didn’t answer right away, and Gabriella looked over her shoulder, curious about his silence.

Eventually he shook his head. “He’s lazy, and he’s never available.”

She had a feeling he was leaving a lot out, but she didn’t press.

He joined her at the tiny kitchen counter. “Can I help?”

She decided he needed something to do, so she gave him parmesan to grate at the kitchen table, and busied herself with the rest of the meal.

“Do you have a whole lot of work piled up after your trip?” she asked as she chopped tomatoes.

“Yes.” He stretched out on the narrow, wooden chair. “But it’s mainly paperwork. How are things going with you?”

She considered not telling him about the body, because discussing it was the last thing she felt like doing, and then realized that was just silly.

She added the spaghetti to the water and turned to lean back against the counter. “Some boys found a woman’s body today. They saw my uniform and called me to help.”

James pushed up from the table, and she knew he was thinking about what had happened a couple of months ago. Of how much that had affected her. “Where?”

“In Chelsea. Just off the Kings Road. That backstreet with the old bombed building they haven’t rebuilt yet.” She turned back to the stove and scraped the tomatoes into the saucepan, threw in a pinch of salt.

“Gabriella.” He came up behind her, gently turned her to face him. “Are you all right?”

She thought of the mannequin-like arm, thrown out as if reaching for something. The shoe. She shook her head.

“I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it,” James murmured as he let her turn back to the stove. “Could you see how she was killed?”

“She was half-buried under the rubble, I didn’t even see her face.” Gabriella took a breath and tossed in some herbs. “She had been there for a bit. Her skin . . .” She shook her head. She shouldn’t have brought this up while she was cooking. She felt less and less like eating the meal.

James seemed to realize it, and began to tell her about his trip, about walks in the hills with his father, and his surprise at how differently he saw things since he’d been working in the Big Smoke.

She let him distract her, and neither of them mentioned the woman again.