Hither Page by Cat Sebastian

Author:Cat Sebastian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, gay, mystery
Publisher: Cat Sebastian
Published: 2019-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

It was high time that Leo spoke with Wendy Smythe, but the girl seemed to be in a state of perpetual motion. The gardener at Wych Hall said she had been at the kitchen door before dawn with a parcel for the housekeeper, but that he hadn’t seen her since. Agnes at the Rising Sun said she had seen Wendy helping with the girl guides. The postmistress saw Wendy bringing old magazines to the vicarage for the sick children to make into garlands to festoon their tree. A rather feverish looking Mrs. Griffiths sent Wendy to the chemist, but the chemist said she had left twenty minutes earlier to bring sweets to the children at Murphy Farm. So round and round the village Leo went, chasing after a girl who apparently never sat still. Finally, he decided to go to Little Briars and wait her out. Surely she had to return home sooner or later.

Miss Pickering opened the door. “Oh. It’s you.” She did not look overly thrilled to find Leo on her doorstep.

“I don’t suppose Wendy is here?” he asked with as charming a smile as he could manage.

The woman snorted. “She only comes home when she’s on the verge of starvation or exhaustion. Like an outdoor cat, really. What did you want with her?”

Leo had come prepared with a lie. “It’s about Christmas. I thought she might need an extra pair of hands to cut down trees or tack up tinsel.” Is that even what one did with tinsel? Did one tack it up or simply strew it about and hope for the best?

“She does have a bee in her bonnet about Christmas,” called Miss Delacourt from the sitting room. “Come in here, Mr. Page. I have more of those ginger biscuits you liked so much the other day. And Wendy sometimes stops in for tea, so you may catch her.”

Leo found Miss Delacourt sitting on the same settee she had occupied the last time he had visited. Around her shoulders was a shawl knit from fluffy wool and on her feet were a pair of embroidered slippers. He had the impression that she didn’t get out much. Apart from the funeral, when she had been leaning heavily on Miss Pickering’s arm, he had never seen her walk.

“I’m not sure why she’s been going on about Christmas this year,” Miss Pickering grumbled, sitting in the chair beside her friend. “We never made much of a production about it. Got her a new doll or a pair of ice skates.”

“It was Mildred, dear. Mildred told her about the sort of Christmases your family used to have, where all the children would put on their Sunday best and go up to Wych Hall for a visit with Father Christmas and the whole pageant.”

“It was ghastly,” Miss Pickering said with a shudder. Leo was inclined to agree. “Some traditions are best left by the wayside.”

“More honored in the breach,” Miss Delacourt murmured vaguely.

“Mrs. Hoggett came from Wychcomb St. Mary?” Leo asked.

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