The Midnight Peacock. Katherine Woodfine

us, Joe, if you can. Mum’s a grand cook.’

      ‘Well I definitely want to come, Leo,’ said Lil, taking a second piece of cake. ‘I think it sounds perfectly marvellous. I’m starting rehearsals for a new play in January you know, which is set in a country house. It’s a mystery and my character – Daphne De Vere – is to be horribly murdered in the first act. Rather thrilling, don’t you think? This will be absolutely perfect for research!’ she exclaimed happily.

      ‘But won’t your parents mind, if you aren’t at home for Christmas?’ asked Billy.

      Lil shrugged. ‘Neither Jack nor I are exactly in the good books with the Aged Parents at the moment,’ she explained. ‘Given all the fuss they made when they found out Jack had ditched Oxford to go and study art instead, I think it might be a jolly good idea for us to go elsewhere. Otherwise, I have a horrid suspicion that we’d probably end up spending Christmas having a big row. Not awfully festive.’

      ‘What about you, Sophie?’ asked Leo.

      Sophie had been staring at her letter, a thoughtful expression on her face. At this question, she looked up suddenly.

      ‘I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,’ she said. ‘Winter Hall is somewhere near Norchester, isn’t it?’

      ‘That’s right,’ said Leo, looking delighted. ‘It’s quite easy to get to. You can catch a train to the station in a village called Alwick, about ten miles away from the house. You really will come? How wonderful!’

      It was a very merry tea. With the prospect of a jolly Christmas ahead of her, Leo was more animated than usual, her pale cheeks quite bright with excitement. Lil had a great many questions to ask – largely about what clothes they ought to bring with them, and what sort of things they would be having to eat. Meanwhile, Billy and Joe were curious to know what happened at a high society country house party at Christmas. ‘You’re bound to meet all sorts of important people,’ Billy said pragmatically. ‘It could be very useful for Taylor & Rose.’

      Only Sophie was quiet, once or twice looking down at the letter again. At last, Leo said that she must go: she still had to pack before travelling to Winter Hall the next morning. It was agreed that Lil, Jack and Sophie would follow her once the office of Taylor & Rose had closed for Christmas, on the day before Christmas Eve.

      As the door closed behind Leo, Lil looked at Sophie. ‘I wasn’t certain if you would want to go,’ she said frankly. ‘What happened to your plan for a quiet Christmas?’

      ‘Oh, I absolutely want to go,’ said Sophie. She pushed the letter over towards the other three. ‘Pour yourselves another cup of tea – and read this,’ she said.

CHAPTER FOUR

      Lil took the thin sheet of writing paper, very much intrigued. She saw that it was covered in rather old-fashioned handwriting.

      ‘Read it out loud,’ urged Joe, and she began:

       Calcutta, India

       November 1909

       My dearest Sophie,

       I hope this finds you well – I have thought of you often, and I was very glad indeed to receive your letter. Thank you for youe kind enquiries as to my health & situation. I am quite well, although I must say that my new home here in India is quite unbearably hot, and I cannot accustom myself to the presence of so many Snakes and Insects and other Unpleasant Creatures. Mary, my new young charge is a little girl of seven years – rather sulky and spoilt by the sevants of the house, but beginning to show signs of improvement.

       I have been very eager to write to you my dear, as I believe I have some information of importance to import. As you know, your Dear Papa had no living relations, and most of his friends were military gentlemen, serving abroad. However. I remember that your Dear Papa did tell me once of the name of a friend that we should contact in the event that anything should happen to him. This gentlemen, he told me, was an old trusted friend, now retired from Army life, and could be relied upon absolutely for help in his absence.

       It was a long time ago, and it was rather a fleeting conversation. What is more, I must say that I did not care at all for the nation that anything Unfortunate might happen to your Dear Papa. However I wrote down the gentleman’s name, and then I must confess, I put it quite out of my mind. But the moment that I recalled this conversation, I went at once to look in my portmanteau, and at last, I found the name of the gentlemen – a Colonel Fairley, of Alwick House, near Norchester. Of cource, I felt most urgently the importance of communicating this discovery to you – but when I wrote to you at Mrs MacDuff’s boarding house (I must say, not at all a reputable-seeming establishment) my letter was returned to me in a quite deplorable condition, marked NOT KNOWN. As you can well imagine, I was very anxious for you. I had all but given up hope of tracing you until at last, your letter reached me. (As it happened by chance, the very next day I had sight of The Times of India, in which I was astonished to see a photograph of you. I was a little shocked and alarmed to hear that you are mixed up in such an extraordinary enterprise as a detective agency – although I, more than anyone, can understand that needs must.)

       My dear, I can quite understand yout eagerness to learn more of your Dear Papa’s affairs. But I am afraid he told me little about his career – I know he had travelled widely, but he never once mentioned anything of Egypt.

       I cannot tell you, my dearest Sophie, of how dreadfully I felt – and still do feel – at having to leave you to fend for yourself in such a manner. I shudder to think what your Dear Papa would have said at such a situation. I do hope that Colonel Fairley may be of some help to you. I can only hope that you will forgive me for my forgetfulness, and that this information may prove useful.

       I beg of you to write to me again my dear, and I remain most affectionately yours,

       Millicent Emily Pennyfeather

      ‘Millicent Pennyfeather – but who’s that?’ asked Lil, looking up from the letter, her eyes bright with interest.

      ‘My old governess,’ explained Sophie. ‘I wrote to her a few months ago, before we got mixed up in the theft of the dragon painting, but the letter must have taken a long time to reach her out in India. I really wanted to know whether she knew anything about Papa spending time in Egypt: remember that photograph of him in Cairo? It doesn’t sound like she knows anything about that – but she has remembered something else that could be important.’

      ‘This Colonel Fairley?’ asked Lil.

      ‘Yes – and look where he lives.’

      ‘Alwick House near Norchester – but that’s –’ began Billy.

      ‘Exactly,’ said Sophie. ‘Alwick is the name of the village close to Winter Hall. If we go there for Christmas, then I could pay him a visit!’

      ‘And he might know something – perhaps about your father’s time in Egypt, or even how the Baron knew your parents!’ finished Lil, her voice ringing with excitement.

      Sophie nodded vigorously. What she did not say was that even if Colonel Fairley proved to know nothing at all about her father’s time in Egypt, and had never even heard of the Baron, it would be enough just to speak to someone who had been Papa’s friend. It was a long time since she had been able to talk to anyone who had known him. As Miss Pennyfeather reminded her in her letter, she had no relations at all that she knew of, and sometimes she felt very alone. Looking at the others, sitting across from her in the cosy office – Lil, bursting with excitement at this new discovery, Billy carefully examining the letter,