The French Emperor's Woman by David Bissenden

Author:David Bissenden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2020-12-21T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Four

On the Train

I went back to the Eagle and sat beside the window, so I was able to easily see everything going on down the street, including the brewery entrance. I did not have long to wait. Within minutes a red-faced Mr Bussell strode down the street, clearly in a rage. He entered the brewery works at a furious pace. I knew now that Bennett was getting a piece of his mind in no uncertain terms. Ten minutes later, Bussell emerged. Still red-faced and looking over his shoulder as he walked into the street. He then quickly disappeared, presumably going back to his studio.

I quickly put together a bag containing notepad and binoculars, whilst keeping my other eye on the street. Sure enough, within minutes Bennett appeared. He looked furtively around, then he quickly, or as fast as any man who uses a stick can, scurried off towards the high street. I was out of the Eagle in seconds. Just in time to see Bennett turning right on West Street onto the high street. He was walking uphill towards the town centre. I followed at a distance. He carried on past the shops and pubs, which edged the street. I had by now guessed his destination. As I expected, he reached the rail station and disappeared into the ticket office. I followed and could see him now, standing on the eastbound platform. I decided to follow my hunch, which was that he was going to see Lynch at his boat, moored on the Medway near Strood. I surreptitiously bought a ticket for Strood and kept to the shadows. When the eastbound train arrived, Bennett was on it straight away, ignoring any attempt to help ladies on first. I waited till the door had banged shut then quickly got into the carriage behind just as the train was leaving the station.

It was now just past six o’clock so the compartment I was in only had suited gentlemen with bowler hats on board, presumably coming home from their desk jobs in the City. I sat down by the window and watched the scenery as the train moved forward through the cutting under the streets of Gravesend. The light came and went as roads overhead crossed the trainline. Then we were out into more open country, I could see the open marshes leading north to the Thames from my window. The other passengers seemed to have no interest in me, which suited me fine. Then we went into a long tunnel. The smoke from the train engine could now be smelt quite strongly; I had opened the carriage window and was not going to shut it till I had caught sight of my prey, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. Finally, we emerged from the tunnel and I could see Strood station ahead. The train slowed, then finally came to a standstill on the platform. I sneaked a look out; yes, there was John Bennett, with his characteristic limp and walking stick, disembarking.

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