A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [47]
At teatime Matthias Roth came to the staff room with MacFarlane and Stratton to announce that the visitors would be interviewing all members of staff. He had drawn up a schedule of appointments, posted on the noticeboard, based upon each person’s teaching timetable and tutorial commitments; interviews would begin immediately and would take place in the faculty library.
“The first interviewee will be Miss Lang.” All gathered looked around the room, expecting Delphine Lang to step forward, secretly glad that they would not be first. “Is Miss Lang here?”
“Dr. Roth, I believe she went home with a nasty summer cold—she left after the assembly,” offered the American member of staff.
Roth shrugged. “This is where we begin to wish Miss Linden were still with us—at least I would know who is in college and who is not.” He peered at the schedule, then more deliberately at Maisie. “In that case, Miss Dobbs, I believe you’re next.”
Maisie took up her briefcase and the pile of student essays that she was by now getting used to having under her arm, and left the room. She made her way along the corridor and up the grand staircase to the landing where the library was situated. She knocked on the door and walked in.
Both MacFarlane and Stratton looked up when Maisie entered, then looked down again at the sheet of paper bearing the staff roster.
“No, I’m not Miss Delphine Lang, she’s supposedly at home with a cold. So I’m the first—fire away! Oh, and I’m supposed to be at the front of my classroom, ready to teach, by two o’clock, so we’d better hurry.”
MacFarlane did not miss a beat. “What did you think of the dog and pony show in the assembly hall?”
Maisie shook her head. “Well, you make a lovely couple, though I think some flowers would have brought out your finer points, gentlemen.”
“Very funny, Maisie, very funny indeed. What a charade that was, but we were playing their game.” MacFarlane pushed her file to one side.
“We thought it would be a good idea, seeing as there are so many to interview,” added Stratton. “Bring it out into the open, rather than having a lot of speculation about who we are, seeing as we’re going to be on the premises a fair bit.”
Maisie nodded. “Do you need to interview me?”
“I can talk to you anytime,” said MacFarlane. “Rushing off somewhere later?”
Maisie looked around at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I have one lesson starting in about ten minutes, after which I am not teaching until late morning tomorrow. I have to leave Cambridge, possibly overnight.”
“Going anywhere interesting?”
“I won’t know until I get there—but I’ll be in touch if I uncover any deeply held secrets.”
Chapter Eight
Maisie enjoyed the lesson that followed. Knowing the students would be abuzz with speculation about the morning’s assembly, she decided to put her prepared lesson to one side and discuss the issue of death and what the great philosophers had to say on the subject of passing from one world to the next, if indeed that is what they believed.
She took the liberty of ending the lesson early and, with homework assigned, and the previous week’s work discussed—“A deeper reading of the assigned texts might have resulted in better marks,” observed Maisie—she hurriedly gathered her belongings and made her way to the station.
Finding a person when there was only a vague starting point was, she thought, rather like finding a pin on a lawn—there was the occasional glint of possibility when light hit the subject, but that flash often did not last long enough for the pin to be found. If she was able to catch the next train to Ipswich, she would arrive in plenty of time to visit the records office; her starting point would be the town