A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [12]
“I know it sounds all very nice, Miss, but you’ve done enough for us already. And to tell you the truth, Miss, this government has taken a lot from us blokes; in the war, and now in this slump. The very least the likes of me can do is put a roof over our families’ heads.”
Maisie had not pressed the point, but now wondered how it might be received if she were to invest in a house and rent it out—to Billy and his family. She would wait and broach the subject again, perhaps at a time when Billy was more open to accepting such an offer. When Billy and Doreen returned from Kent, they would doubtless be chagrined to be back in Shoreditch, with the added pressure of a baby soon to be born.
“I’ve invited Sandra to stay at my flat again, which will help her get on her feet. And it will be a weight off my mind to know that someone is at home when I am away; at least the place will be inhabited.” She paused for a moment. “And I have some good news for us.”
Billy looked up from his desk. “Oh—a new job come in?”
Maisie shook her head. “No, some help for us—she’s looking for a job, so I offered her the position of secretary. It’ll be part-time, as she’ll also be working for Douglas Partridge. She can catch up with the filing, type up our invoices and reports properly, and generally keep us in some sort of order. When she’s here and clients come to the office, you won’t have to miss half the conversation because you’re bringing in the tea—Sandra will be able to take care of those . . . those . . . housekeeping details. Plus, when I’m away, it will be company for you, someone to talk to in the office and provide clerical support when you’re working on your cases.”
Billy shrugged. “I thought we were doing quite well here, just the two of us. And it’s only lately that the filing’s piled up. And where will she sit?”
Maisie thought a stronger yet equally compassionate tack was needed. “This is a very spacious room, Billy. You could hold the Cup Final in here. We’ll keep the table by the window for the case maps, and for our discussions when we’re comparing notes on our work. We’ll reposition those filing cabinets and the card file against the two walls either side of the bay window. Your desk could be placed at an angle to the wall—very nice with a view to the square—and if I move my desk slightly more towards the fireplace we can fit another desk here—thus the first person to greet visitors will be Sandra.”
“We’ll need a desk, Miss.”
“Could you find a suitable desk for Sandra? Have it brought to the office ‘cash on delivery’ and I will settle the bill when it arrives.”
“Right you are, Miss.”
“And I’ve another job for you.”
“Yes, Miss?”
Maisie picked up the index card that Billy had left on her desk. “This is where Eric worked—you remember, they always looked after my motor car. Sandra and Eric lived over the garage. I want you to take the MG over there and ask them to check a possible oil leak. There is no oil leak—well, no more than usual—but you can get chatting to the owner. Ask him about the business—you know how to slide it into the conversation. He has a relatively new customer who’s been giving him a lot of work. Find out who it is. All I want is a name at this stage.”
“Is this for Sandra?”
“In a way.” Maisie sighed and leaned against the back of her chair. “I have a sense that, when she’s settled and the problem of where to live and how to earn money is solved, her thoughts will turn inward, and she will begin to doubt that her husband’s death was an accident.”
“And you want to have proof that it was, so that she can forget it?”
“No.” She chewed the inside of her lip for a second before continuing. “No, not