A Lesson in Secrets: A Maisie Dobbs Novel by Jacqueline Winspear

Author:Jacqueline Winspear
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Maisie (Fictitious character), England, Mystery & Detective, Women private investigators, Fiction, Women Sleuths, Historical, General, Dobbs
ISBN: 9780061727672
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-03-22T03:14:50+00:00

Chapter Twelve

With Billy gone, the office was silent, the square quiet on a Friday afternoon. At once, Maisie felt a fatigue set into her bones, as if there were no marrow, no fuel for what had to be done next. True enough, she had been intent upon her work, trying to be a good teacher to her students. She had been balancing the demands of her assignment for Huntley and MacFarlane with deep concerns about Sandra; and in the back of her mind there was still a certain worry regarding her father’s well-being, and on top of that, a nagging thought—it had begun as if it were a scratch on the skin, a minor irritation, but was now a deep discomfort—a sense that James Compton might not be true to her. It was a question she tried to banish, but at the same time, it was as if a few threads had loosened in the fabric of her heart and now a tear was creeping across, in the way that a crack might appear at the edge of a crystal glass, and spread until at once the glass shatters in a thousand pieces. Might she become as bereft as Sandra again—a woman who had rebuilt her heart, only to see it broken once more?

Tears welled up in her eyes, tears she brushed aside with the back of her hand while picking at a needle of splintered wood along the edge of the desk with the fingers of the other. She imagined Sandra, hurt and alone, channeling anger at losing Eric into discovering the true circumstances of his death. Oh, how she wished she could wave her hand and dispel the dark stone of doubt, of unknowing, that had enveloped Sandra. She had nothing to lose, thought Maisie. And she knew that, though Sandra had shed tears, though she had come to Maisie for help, and though she had established a soothing routine to her days and seemed to be recovering, in her deepest soul the widow had a sense that there was no more to lose, so any risk was worth her quest for truth. Sandra was in a sort of limbo, where a past with meaning and promise was gone, and the future as yet held nothing she truly wanted. It was a feeling that demanded to be controlled; otherwise it would wreak havoc in the soul, a sense of angry pointlessness. Hadn’t that been why Maisie herself leaned on her work to bring a meaning that would ground her days? Her relationship with James, the intimacy of connection, was a spark that caught fire—could it all be gone, now that she doubted him? Priscilla was right—and wrong. Yes, she controlled her feelings, keeping the dragon at bay with a carefully self-chaperoned life, a protected heart. But Priscilla made letting go sound like a simple task, as easy as a yacht slipping away from the harbor with the wind in its sails. Yet there was always a rock upon which to run aground, and Maisie knew it was her habit to keep a keen eye out for the rocks.

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