The Consequences of Fear, Jacqueline Winspear [most important books to read TXT] 📗

he’s learned to manage the emotions that come with a threat. Well, I suppose to a point. But that’s what we all do, isn’t it? We take the energy produced inside us by the act of being scared, and we use it to propel us forward. It’s what kept men’s legs moving as they ran across no-man’s-land, and it’s what keeps Freddie Hackett running. If he stops, then he feels the terror, which is why he was doubly petrified when he witnessed the murder.”

“Explain.” MacFarlane reached across to refill her glass, but she held a hand over the rim.

“There was all that adrenaline pumping around inside him. He’d been running to the sound of bombs, to the sirens and ambulances.Then he had to stop, and it was as if his engine was flooded, in the same way that an idling motor car can get too much fuelif you put your foot on the accelerator. I believe there were two men tackling Payot at first, but he thought he saw onlyone—it was a consequence of what had gone before in his life.” She was silent, staring at her hands. “That poor boy must haveseen that scar on his father’s angry face in nightmares, even on those days when he wasn’t striped time and again by the belt.It paralyzed him, the sheer ugliness of his father’s anger.”

“You sure you won’t have another?” MacFarlane lifted the bottle again. “Might as well kill the bottle, eh, lass?”

Maisie nodded and pushed her glass toward him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, both too tired for theirusual back-and-forth banter.

“So, what about the Yank?”

“Getting a bit personal, aren’t you, Robbie?” Maisie swirled the whisky around in her glass. “Anyway, seeing as you keep tabs on me, Robbie, I would imagine you already know, or you’ve guessed—it’s over.” She looked away. “I suppose it was to be expected. We’re both working hard, and—well, we’ve had a rocky few weeks, one minute all very happy and then seeming at odds with each other. You know how it is—that undercurrent of something brittle. And there’s the war.” She looked at her glass. “I wish I hadn’t drunk that—I’ve said too much.”

MacFarlane nodded. “I’ll get a driver to take you home. Your flat?”

Maisie shook her head. “No. Chelstone. I want to see Anna.”

MacFarlane picked up the telephone, then replaced the receiver. “Not working again—I’ll just nip out to talk to the porter.”

As the door banged shut behind him, Maisie leaned back in the chair and sipped her drink, already wondering how best to approachthe question of Freddie Hackett and his family in light of the day’s events. She sat up when MacFarlane reappeared.

“Bright will be here in about half an hour or so—bit longer than I thought. We can fill our time with idle talk, can’t we,Maisie?”

The talk was far from idle, lubricated with more whisky. Maisie was surprised to note that almost an hour had passed whenthe porter came to the door to announce that Corporal Bright had arrived for Miss Dobbs.

“I’ll leave you in this man’s capable hands, Maisie,” said MacFarlane. “He’ll escort you out. I’ve paperwork to get on with.Have a good evening.”

 

Corporal Bright stepped from the driver’s seat and came to the rear passenger door, opening it for Maisie.

“Thank you, Corporal Bright.”

“Shouldn’t be too long a run down to Kent, Miss Dobbs.”

Maisie smiled as she stepped into the vehicle.

“Hello, Maisie—my pal Mac thought I should come along for the ride.”

“Mark, but—”

“Take a seat. We’ve got to talk.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Just listen.” Scott lowered his voice as the motor car pulled out into traffic. “Good.”

“Mark? I thought—”

“Now that’s the trouble—all this thinking, and you’ve reached conclusions that just aren’t right.” He shook his head. “Andhere I had all these words planned, to explain why you’d gone off in the opposite direction to the one I intended, and nowI’ve forgotten all of them. Except about four, though I could cut it down to two.”

“Mark, never mind about me getting things wrong, but you aren’t making any sense, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Maisiefelt herself become impatient, a wave of panic beginning to envelop her.

“Maisie—”

“What is it, Mark? Is something wrong?”

She reached for his hand and felt him grasp hers in return.

“Marry me.”

Chapter 20

“Now, let me go over this again. I want to make sure I know exactly what happened, because what with Brenda going on and onabout cakes and puddings and having to take the lives of a few chickens, I couldn’t keep up with any of it this morning. Soyou had no idea that Mark was in the motor car, and that MacFarlane had arranged to have him picked up, which is why you hadto sit there chatting to MacFarlane and getting a bit tight on single-malt whisky while the driver went over to the embassy?”Priscilla mixed two gin and tonics, handing one to Maisie before sitting down at the opposite end of the sofa. “There yougo—it’s a weak one for you as usual, though I would have thought you’d want a belter after what’s gone on in the past twenty-fourhours!”

Maisie laughed as she took the glass. “Weak is about all I could stand, Pris. And yes, I had no idea what was going on, thoughit seems Robbie knew more about the situation than I would have given him credit for. Mark had told Robbie I’d finished withhim, while at the same time I thought he was so fed up with me, he’d thrown me over. I believe it’s called ‘irrational reasoning.’It’s what happens to people when they’re scared, and it happened to me. It was all very confusing, and to be honest, I wastired and consumed with a case and, well—”

“Haven’t I always said, Maisie darling, that you may be very, very good at your job, but when it comes to personal matters of the heart, you are verging on incompetent. Sometimes you think about things far too much. And by the way, about these all-consuming cases—I