Anna, Where Are You?

CHAPTER XIII

It was that evening after the children had gone to bed that the name of Mr. Sandrow emerged for the first time. Mr. Craddock was not present. His absence did not surprise Miss Silver, since he nearly always went away as soon as a meal was over, and often did not join the family at all. Sometimes Mrs. Craddock would load a tray and take it through to the main block where he had his study. The doors, one on each floor, which shut it off from the inhabited wing were kept locked, a precaution rendered necessary by the bombed state of the building. Mrs. Craddock would permit Jennifer, Maurice or Miss Silver to come with her as far as the locked door, but as soon as the key was turned and it had swung open she would take the tray and go through alone. The piece of passage disclosed was dark, dusty, and without other furniture than a small rough table upon which she could stand the tray whilst she locked the door behind her. Sometimes she merely put the tray down and returned immediately. Sometimes the door would be locked, and she would be absent for ten minutes or so. Every now and then she would repeat what she had said on the day of Miss Silver’s arrival-“Mr. Craddock is engaged upon a great work. He must not be disturbed.”

On this particular evening, as the two women sat by the schoolroom fire, the house was still and peaceful. Mrs. Craddock was patching Benjy’s shorts, whilst Miss Silver, her knitting laid aside, was engaged in filling up two gaping holes in one of Maurice’s jerseys. There had been a companionable silence for a time, when Mrs. Craddock gave a little sigh and said,

“It makes such a difference when there is someone to share the mending.”

Miss Silver gave her small prim cough.

“Did not Miss Ball or Miss Dally help you with it?”

“Oh, no.” There was another sigh. “They really were not very much help. Miss Dally had no idea-she liked young men and parties. Of course she was quite young, so I suppose it was natural. And Miss Ball-I really was quite glad when she went. She seemed to dislike me, and that is a very uncomfortable feeling.”

“And quite uncalled for, since I am sure you were all kindness to her, as you have been to me.”

Mrs. Craddock sighed again.

“Oh, I don’t know. Of course it was dull for her. But then there was Mr. Sandrow-I have always wondered if anything came of that. But of course he didn’t come again, and she never wrote-”

With no more than an absent-minded interest in her voice, Miss Silver said,

“Mr. Sandrow?”

Emily Craddock said, “Yes.” Her fingers smoothed the grey flannel patch, her needle took a stitch and halted. “I sometimes wondered whether we ought to have mentioned him, but Mr. Craddock said it wasn’t our business. I don’t know how old she was-but not a very young girl-she may have had her own reasons. Mr. Craddock thought we had no right to interfere.”

“Had you any reason to suppose that she went away with this Mr. Sandrow?”

Emily looked startled.

“Oh, no-of course not. I only thought- She didn’t write, but then why should she? She was only here for such a short time, and she didn’t like us-there was really no reason. But she didn’t write to her friends either. Someone came down only the other day to make enquiries. She hadn’t any relations, I believe, but there was a friend who was worried at not hearing from her. Only people don’t always write, do they, and she may not have wanted to keep up with her friend. She was a moody sort of girl.”

“The friend was trying to trace her?”

“Oh, yes. Someone came down-from the police, I think, only not in uniform. But of course there wasn’t anything we could say.

Miss Silver was picking up run-down stitches on Maurice’s left sleeve, using a darning-needle in a very expert manner. She paused for a moment to look at Emily Craddock and say,

“And now you feel that you ought to have spoken of Mr. Sandrow?”

“There was so little to say,” said Emily in a distressed voice. “I only saw him once-quite at a distance, and it was getting dark. There was a car at the gate, and I just saw him stop and drive on again. She had been out for the afternoon, you know. We walked up the drive together, and she had that excited way with her, but when I asked her whether her friend wouldn’t have come in she changed and said no, he didn’t like a crowd.”

“How extremely rude.”

“Yes, I thought so. And then she laughed and said quite angrily, ‘Two is company, isn’t it?’ She didn’t say any more, and I didn’t like to. Her tone was really quite rude.”

“But she told you his name?”

Emily had her startled look.

“No-no-I don’t think she did. I think it must have been somebody else-perhaps one of the children.”

“She spoke of him to the children?”

“I think she must have done-because of the name… Yes, it was Jennifer, because I thought it sounded as if it might be Italian-Sandro, you know. But she said it wasn’t. She said it was R O W.”

Miss Silver remarked in a meditative voice,

“If Miss Ball was so reserved about her affairs, it seems strange that she should have talked to Jennifer.”

“Oh, I don’t know. We had a governess when I was twelve, and she told me all about being engaged to a young man who was a missionary in China. When you are in love with someone you do want to talk about them. I think the children may have teased her about his being Italian, and that made her explain that he wasn’t and tell them how the name was really spelt.”

“Did they ever see him?”

“I don’t think so. Jennifer did say he was very goodlooking, but I think that was only what Miss Ball had told her. I think Elaine Tremlett saw him once-or perhaps it was Gwyneth. She said he had red hair, which doesn’t sound at all Italian, does it?”

“Did Miss Ball see much of him?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She used to slip out in the evenings-it was one of the things I didn’t like. And people talked.”

Miss Silver reflected that they had not talked to Detective Inspector Abbott. It became apparent that Emily Craddock had told all she knew about Mr. Sandrow. Anna Ball had neither said where he came from nor how long they had known each other. After that momentary outburst in the dark drive she had gone back into her silent antagonism, and a few days later had taken her departure, a good deal to Emily Craddock’s relief.

“I did try to be nice to her,” she said in her plaintive voice. “We didn’t like her, but we did try. We gave her a red hat.”

“A red hat?”

“Mr. Craddock thought it would cheer her up,” said Emily.