The Cryptic Clue by Amanda Hampson

Author:Amanda Hampson [Hampson, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical Mystery/Suspense, Whodunnit/Cozy Mystery
ISBN: 9781761341038
Published: 2024-04-02T13:00:00+00:00

Irene squashes as much of her stuff as she can into a borrowed suitcase and carries it around to her new home in Lisbon Street. Five fifty-five is a three-storey mansion in a row of mansions, most of which have seen better days. Her new home is the smartest in the row, painted white with red roses in the front garden. On the wrought iron fence, a sign in fancy writing reads: ‘Miss Palmer’s Secretarial School’. (The girls pick up plenty of skills here, but shorthand’s not one of them.) It’s a classy establishment, in Irene’s opinion.

Miss Palmer herself answers the door. She doesn’t look like a madam, at least nothing like the ones Irene’s met in the past. This one looks like a smart secretary, nicely made up, wearing tight-fitting slacks with her hair in a beehive.

She looks Irene up and down, stopping to stare at the slippers that, apart from a couple of holes cut out for her bunions, are in good shape. By the look on Her Ladyship’s face, though, she’s suddenly less than keen to let Irene live in her attic.

‘I was told you were a tea lady. You’re not quite what I imagined,’ she says.

Irene nods. ‘We come in all shapes and sizes.’

Still not happy, Miss Palmer steps back and beckons her inside.

The hallway reeks of flowery perfume and is decorated like a palace with a dust-collecting chandelier, dark-blue carpet so thick it bounces underfoot and silver wallpaper covered in peacocks and other strange-looking birds. Irene nods her approval as she follows Miss Palmer’s trim little figure up three flights of stairs, through a small door and then up another narrow flight into an attic room with a single bed, a cupboard and a bench with a gas ring on it for cooking. This will suit Irene just fine.

‘Leave your bag here and come back downstairs,’ Miss Palmer instructs her.

Irene does as she’s told and follows her new boss down to the third-floor landing.

‘So, as I explained on the telephone,’ Miss Palmer says. ‘I need the main areas and the bedrooms cleaned every day, vacuumed and dusted. The bathrooms on each landing must be immaculate. No need to change the beds. We have someone on duty during opening hours to do that and all the linen is sent out.’ As she speaks, she points here and there with her bright red fingernails. ‘The girls arrive here at 4 pm, we open for clients at 5 pm and we close at 4 am. You’ll be here on your own during the day.’

Irene keeps nodding, working out that she’ll have to start the cleaning before she goes to work and finish it when she gets back. Small price to pay to live free of charge in such a luxurious abode.

‘Where’s me lav?’ Irene asks, having spent some time working out the politest term for the dunny.

Miss Palmer sniffs at the thought of Irene’s bodily functions. ‘There’s a chamber pot under the bed you can use at night and empty in the morning.

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