Silence in Hanover Close - Anne Perry [116]
“Charlotte! I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it!”
“You are being quite unfair! And the kettle is boiling. You are filling the kitchen with steam and it’ll boil dry. For goodness’ sake make the tea and have a cup. Perhaps you will be able to think a little more clearly. Loyalty to Thomas is all very well, but it is self-indulgent. This has happened, and you must be practical and think of the children.”
She was quite right at least in that the room was filling with steam. Charlotte made the tea, burning her hand on the kettle and refusing to admit it. She set the teapot on the table and fiddled furiously in the cupboard for biscuits. When she found them she spilled them onto a plate and set it down, then poured the tea and passed it. Finally she sat down, hardly more composed.
“I would be very grateful if you took the children,” she said carefully. “It would protect them from—from the worst, at least—” She stopped. She had been going to say, “for the time being,” and even that thought was a betrayal.
“Of course,” Caroline said quickly. “And as soon as you want to come, too, you know there is always a place for you.”
“I—am—not—coming,” Charlotte said very slowly and deliberately.
“Then go and stay with Emily in the country,” Caroline urged her. “Thomas would understand. He wouldn’t expect you to stay here. What can you do? Make a show of being brave and letting everyone know you believe he is innocent? My dear, it will only get you hurt, and it will make no difference at all in the end. Leave it to the police.”
Charlotte felt the tears running down her face. She fished out a handkerchief and blew her nose, then took a sip of her tea before replying. She could hardly tell her mother that Emily was no more in the country than Pitt was.
“The police are perfectly happy to leave it as it is,” she said coldly. “Thomas has discovered something they would prefer not to know. I have no wish to join Emily. I have written to her, of course. But I am a very good detective myself; I shall discover who killed Robert York, and it will be the same person who killed this woman in pink.”
“My dear, you cannot know what really happened, or why Thomas was in Seven Dials with this—this woman in pink.” Caroline’s face was very pale. “We don’t know really as much about our husbands as we sometimes imagine.”
Out of her own pain Charlotte was deliberately cruel. “You mean, as you didn’t know about Papa?”
Caroline flinched and the words died before they reached her lips.
Charlotte was sorry, but it was too late. “But he didn’t kill those girls, did he!” she said, finishing what she had begun.
“No, and I was grateful to the police for proving it,” Caroline admitted. “But I could not give back the knowledge of what he had done, nor ever stop wondering at how little I had known him, how much I simply thought I did. Don’t press for the truth, Charlotte. You would be much wiser to leave it to the police, and hope they will tell you only what you have to know.”
“If that is the best you can offer, it would be better if we did not discuss it.” Charlotte stood up, leaving the rest of her tea. “I’ll go and pack some things for the children and you can take them with you now. It will be easier than saying long good-byes. Anyway, there’s no point in your going and then having to come back for them. Thank you; I appreciate it,” and without waiting for Caroline to offer any answer she went straight out of the kitchen and upstairs, leaving her mother at the table with the teapot and the biscuits.
After Caroline was gone, taking Daniel and Jemima with her, holding onto their hands as she had with Charlotte and Emily when they were children, Charlotte felt truly ashamed. She had been unjust. She had expected Caroline to understand things that were completely outside her world. But her mother did not have Charlotte’s experience, and it was both unfair and stupid to suppose she could think as Charlotte