Buckingham Palace Gardens - Anne Perry [34]
“What old feller?” Mrs. Oliphant challenged. “’Ere you. Gracie, that your name? Well, sit down, girl. Pour yourself a cup o’ tea. Cake’s fresh. Oh, come on!” She snatched the pot and a clean cup and poured it for Gracie impatiently. She pushed it across at her, and one of the plates. “Look like a twopenny rabbit, you do. Put a bit o’ meat on your bones, girl. Next thing they’ll accuse us o’ starvin’ you.” She turned back to Rob. “What other one? What are you talking about?”
He blanched, so that his freckles stood out like blotches on his skin. “I mean the old feller what come wi’ the big box, Mrs. Oliphant.”
“What old feller?” she said with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
Gracie stopped with her cup halfway to her lips.
“The man wot came ’ere a bit after midnight wi’ that box o’ books come for Mr. Dunkle, or wot’s ’is name,” Rob answered her.
Mrs. Oliphant’s wispy-fine eyebrows shot up. “You sayin’ as that old man what delivered the books pinched one of our knives and took it with ’im?” she said with disbelief. “Whatever for?”
“I dunno, do I!” Rob said indignantly. “’Cos it come from the Palace, I s’pose. You should ’ear some o’ the things I get asked ter nick fer people.”
“You take a pinch o’ dust, my boy, an’ your feet won’t touch the ground!” Mrs. Oliphant said furiously. “I catch you, an’ I swear you’ll eat off the mantelpiece fer a week, an’ glad of it.”
Rob rubbed his behind as if it were already aching. “I said I were asked, I din’t say as I took nothing!” Now he was really offended. “Was me as told yer the knife were gone. You’re ungrateful, that’s what you are.”
“Don’t you speak to me like that, you cheeky lump!” she said hotly. “You forget yourself, Rob Tompkins. You let Mr. Tyndale catch you talking nonsense an’ he’ll wash your mouth out with soap, he will, lye soap an’ all!”
“Then you tell ’im the old fellow took the knife!” he charged her.
“’Ow do I know?” she demanded. “You stop crying an’ drink your tea before I throw it away!”
He snatched the cake before she could remove the plate.
“You better have the last one too,” she said. “Go on! Take it! Another twopenny rabbit if ever I seen one.”
He grinned at her, showing gappy teeth.
“Where’d yer see ’im?” Gracie asked as casually as she could, her mouth dry. At last she was learning something.
“Don’t encourage ’im!” Mrs. Oliphant warned.
Gracie shrugged. “Sorry. ’E’s probably nobody.”
“Yeah ’e is so!” Rob insisted. “Bit taller’n me, ’e were, wi’ scruffy white ’air an’ dirty face. Edwards knows—’e ’elped the fella carry it. ’E were down ’ere while they was unpackin’ the box, before ’e takes it back out again. Cup o’ tea, I s’pose. ’E come past Mr. Tyndale’s pantry an’ out o’ the kitchen through the side door inter the yard. S’pose ’e went back ter the cart ’e come in. But ’e went past the pantry, I swear!” He looked at Gracie, hopeful of support.
“An’ how do you know?” Mrs. Oliphant asked. “What were yer doin’ out o’ yer bed at that time of night? Stealin’ cake, I’ll wager!”
“I come fer a drink o’ water!” Rob said with self-conscious righteousness.
“Down them stairs?” Gracie asked doubtfully.
“’E sleeps in the scullery,” Mrs. Oliphant explained.
Rob nodded, smiling. “Nice an’ warm in there.”
Gracie refrained from pointing out that there was also a tap in there—but not cake.
“Stupid,” she said, sipping her tea. “Fancy stealin’ a table knife! In’t even any good. Why don’t ’e take a kitchen knife, if ’e wanted one?”
“Them table knives is special for meat,” Mrs. Oliphant told her. “Shave your face with them, yer could. Believe me!”
Gracie finished her tea with difficulty, heart pounding, then thanked Mrs. Oliphant and excused herself as swiftly as she dared. She was going so hastily she almost ran into Pitt on the stairs.
“What is it?” he asked her with an edge of urgency in his voice. “Mr. Tyndale said you wanted to see me. Something about sheets.”
“I found ’em in the laundry,” she said breathlessly, no louder than a whisper. “I ’id ’em in the bran bin. They’re ’Er Majesty’s sheets. They