Pilgrim’s Rest

chapter 28

Miss Silver came out of the study and went up to her room. The door to the back stair was open. She heard footsteps and voices, one of them Gloria’s. She turned back to look and listen. There were two girls at the open bathroom door-Gloria pink-cheeked and chattering, and a sensible-looking young woman in khaki with a corporal’s stripes on her sleeve.

Miss Silver drew their attention with a cough.

“Is that your sister, Gloria? I should like to meet her.”

Maggie Pell was brought up and introduced.

“She’s been seeing Miss Columba out in the garden and come in for a tidy-up. And Miss Collie says she’s grown, and they don’t starve her in the A.T.S. She says she looks ever so well. But Granpa, he don’t half carry on about the uniform.”

Maggie smiled, a nice slow smile. Her hair was much darker than Gloria’s and very neat. She had blunt features and a thick white skin. Her brown eyes were kind.

“He’s old,” she said-“you can’t expect him to change his ways.”

Miss Silver looked at her, and took a decision.

“I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes,” she said, “Is Gloria going out with you? Could you give me a quarter of an hour whilst she is putting on her things-if it will not make you miss your bus?”

Maggie shook her head.

“Oh, no, that’s all right-there’s no hurry. We’re walking across the fields to see my aunt, Mrs. Collis, at Crow Farm.”

She had a steady, quiet manner. Miss Silver approved. She took her into her room and shut the door.

“Sit down, Maggie. I expect you are wondering why I want to see you. You know, of course, what has been happening here.”

Maggie said, “I’m sure it’s dreadful! Mr. Henry and Mr. Roger both gone-I can’t hardly believe it!”

“You were working here at the time that Mr. Clayton disappeared, were you not?”

“I wasn’t sleeping in the house.”

“No-I know that. It is all very shocking. And most necessary that it should be cleared up. Now I think you may be able to help us.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about it.”

Miss Silver gave a gentle cough.

“You cannot be sure about that. I want to ask you whether anyone sent a parcel to the cleaners just after Mr. Clayton was missing.”

Maggie opened her mouth and shut it again. She brought her hands together in her lap and said,

“However did you know?”

“I thought something of the kind might have happened. Can you tell me who sent the parcel?”

“It was Miss Netta.”

“Can you tell me what she sent?”

“Well, Miss Netta, she’s very particular about her things- sends them away to be cleaned for next to nothing. There was a couple of dresses-one she had for afternoons, blue with a kind of mauve fleck in it, and one she’d been wearing of an evening, another kind of blue with some grey trimming.”

“Were they badly stained?”

“No, they weren’t. I packed them up, and there wasn’t much wrong with them to my thinking. What was in a terrible mess was a warm purple dressing-gown she had that Miss Day had upset a jug of cocoa down. At least Miss Netta said it was Miss Day, but Miss Day was looking very old-fashioned about it, and I’ve got an idea it wasn’t quite like Miss Netta said. She’s like that, you know-if anything goes wrong, it’s got to be someone else did it, not Miss Netta. So I’ve an idea that likely enough she tipped that cocoa over herself, especially as it went all over Miss Day too.”

“Now when did this happen?”

Maggie Pell considered. She was a serious, simple-minded girl, and she was taking pains to be accurate.

“Well, it would be first thing in the morning, because that’s when she has her cup of cocoa. Of course she has it at night too, the last thing. And Miss Day makes it for her on a spirit-lamp in the bathroom and takes it in-last thing at night and first thing in the morning. At least that’s how it was in my time, and I don’t expect it’s been changed.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“So that the cocoa might have been spilled early in the morning or late the night before?”

Maggie shook her head.

“I don’t think so, because I remember Miss Netta said Miss Day made her have the dressing-gown round her for sitting up in bed because of its being such a cold morning. And so it was. I remember it was trying to snow when I came along and found them all in an upset over Mr. Henry.”

“You are really sure about its being the morning?”

“Yes, I am now-because of what Miss Netta said about Miss Day making her have the dressing-gown round her. She was very put out about it-said it wouldn’t have got stained only for Miss Day making her have it round her. I must say it was in a fair mess. You see, it wasn’t just the cup of cocoa that went over her, it was the jug.”

“Oh, there was a jug? Why was that?”

Maggie looked puzzled.

“Miss Day would be having a cup, I suppose. The jug broke all to bits. Miss Netta was put out! And she was putting it on Miss Day. But she said to me afterwards-that’s Miss Day, not Miss Netta-she said, ‘Well, you know, Maggie, she upset it herself, and my Chinese dressing-gown’s ruined, for it ran all down the front.’ ”

“What was the dressing-gown like?”

Maggie’s face lighted up.

“Oh, it was lovely-all birds and flowers and butterflies, worked on black satin. Done in China, she said. A lady she was with in India gave it to her.”

“It sounds extremely handsome-too good in fact for everyday wear as a dressing-gown.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t-more like one of those house-coats really. She’d wear it for dinner in the evening when it was cold. Lovely and warm it was, with a beautiful silk lining.”

“Then she did not usually wear it as a dressing-gown?”

“Oh, no, she didn’t.”

“Can you remember whether she was wearing it at dinner on the night Mr. Clayton disappeared?”

Maggie looked doubtful.

“I don’t know-I don’t think so. No, she wasn’t. It was a green dress she had on-rather a bright green.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“Yes, I am now.”

Miss Silver looked at her.

“Did Miss Day say anything to explain why she was wearing that handsome Chinese coat to take in Miss Janetta’s early morning cocoa?”

Maggie stared.

“Oh, yes. It was because it was such a cold morning. It snowed as I came along. Lovely and warm that coat was, but it never looked the same after the cocoa.”

“Did she send it to be cleaned?”

Another shake of the head.

“Oh, no, she didn’t, I asked her what about putting it in the parcel, and she said no, she’d soaked it in water straight away and the worst of it was out, but the satin had rubbed and the colours run-in the embroidery, you know-and she was afraid it wouldn’t ever look the same. And it didn’t either- you could always see the marks. Cocoa ’s dreadful stuff to get out-kind of greasy, you know. I always thought it was a pity she put it in water, for Miss Netta’s dressing-gown came back looking like new. But of course once you’ve started in to wash a thing, well, it doesn’t give the cleaners a chance.”

Miss Silver agreed. In a rather abstracted manner she enquired whether anyone else in the house had sent anything to be cleaned about that time-Mr. Jerome-Mr. Roger-Robbins or Mrs. Robbins-

Maggie had a quick “Oh, no” for that. She had done up the parcel herself, and no other parcel had gone. No clothes had been missing. As to the Robbinses, Mrs. Robbins didn’t hold with cleaners-said they took the nature out of things. “If anything needed doing, she’d do it herself, or Mr. Robbins would. And what soap and water and benzine wouldn’t take out, she’d say the cleaners wouldn’t get out either. And I must say she was a very good hand at it.”

“Mrs. Robbins did a good bit of cleaning at home?”

Maggie Pell nodded emphatically.

“Oh, yes, she did-all her own things, and all Mr. Robbins’. She’d a sister a tailoress, and she learnt it off her. Mr. Robbins’ suits, I’m sure they used to come up like new.”