The Girl in the Lifeboat by Eileen Enwright Hodgetts

Author:Eileen Enwright Hodgetts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eileen Enwright Hodgetts
Published: 2022-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER eleven

The Dulwich Club

Harry Hazelton

Ignoring the tragedy of the Titanic and the ongoing stress of the coal strike, the month of May positively frolicked into London. Harry opened the window of his small room at the Dulwich Club and breathed in the floral-scented breeze. In his years of fighting the Boers on the dry, dusty Highveld and drilling his troops on the burning plains of India, he had longed for mornings like this. His English soul had yearned for the scent of the sea and the ever-underlying promise of gentle rain—not a lashing monsoon but a short shower that fell lightly on roses and daffodils and brought forth scattered daisies on green lawns.

He turned away from the window. Sentimental claptrap. He straightened his tie, buttoned his jacket, and went down the stairs to the club’s breakfast room. This morning the usual scrambled eggs and bacon had been replaced by a dish of kedgeree. The odor of fish and curry transported him to the officers’ mess at Lucknow and the sight of the general’s bride walking across the parade ground in the cool early morning. He remembered the way her white muslin dress strained against her increasingly obvious pregnancy. Now she’s pregnant, he’ll leave her alone. She’ll be safe for a while.

Harry turned away from the breakfast buffet. The kedgeree had destroyed his appetite. All he wanted now was a cup of coffee, and then he would ... What would he do? His first investigative case had gone well. He had returned the two runaway girls to their uncle and received his payment. Where would he find his next case? He should probably place an advertisement in The Times.

He was deep in thought, mentally wording his advertisement, when the aging waiter appeared at his elbow. He seemed more tired and more doddery than usual. Harry wondered why the man had not been pensioned off.

“Captain Hazelton, are you going to eat breakfast? Was the kedgeree not to your liking?”

Harry looked back at the offending dish on the sideboard and shook his head.

The waiter stooped to refill Harry’s coffee cup. “The chef thought you would enjoy an Indian dish.”

“Thank him for the thought,” Harry said, “but I’m not hungry.”

“In that case,” said the waiter, “I am to inform you that you have a visitor waiting for you in the lounge. Should I bring him in here?”

Harry felt a spark of optimism. The day had been a yawning chasm of boredom, and now it held the possibility of change. He had slept late, and the breakfast room was deserted. The waiter would not have suggested bringing the visitor into the room unless he was obviously a gentleman. Perhaps a client had once again fallen into his lap.

“Bring him in,” Harry said. “See if he would like coffee.”

Moments later Harry rose to greet his guest. He knew immediately that the man who strode purposefully into the room had been a soldier. He did not even need the regimental tie to tell him that his visitor was a product of the Grenadier Guards.

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