He looked hard at her, eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘But why the rush to post them now? They don’t empty the postbox till after nine in the morning.’

‘I wanted some fresh air,’ she said.

‘But it’ll be dark soon.’

‘There is street lighting, Dad,’ she said. ‘It’s a lovely evening, and I’ve been stuck indoors all day.’

She waited, fairly certain he would point out she’d been gone for an hour that very afternoon. But, clearly, he wasn’t aware of it. ‘Don’t go hanging around on street corners’ was all he could come up with.

Molly held her breath until she was out of the door and the backyard. She wouldn’t put it past him to come after her and take the letters to see if she was telling the truth. But, to her relief, he didn’t, and she hurried down to the postbox and put them in.

She hesitated for a moment or two at the bottom of the stairs leading to Simon’s flat, unsure whether he’d be pleased to see her or annoyed. But she took a deep breath, ran up the stairs and rapped on the door.

‘Well, blow me down!’ he exclaimed when he opened the door and saw her there. ‘I was just feeling a bit sorry for myself, and you arrive to cheer me up. Come on in.’

‘I did hear a bit of gossip today about you,’ she said carefully as she walked in. ‘But that isn’t why I came, because that’s your private business. I’ve got something to show you, and I want your advice.’

‘I’m sure the whole village is buzzing with it, and making completely false suppositions,’ Simon said, grimacing. ‘The truth is that my wife and I were washed up years ago. She only came here today to talk about getting a divorce. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find my flat, so went into your dad’s shop, when it was busy, to ask where it was. I didn’t realize omitting to tell the world that you are still legally married was such a heinous crime!’

‘You know how people here love a bit of scandal,’ Molly said lightly, a little surprised that such a man of the world should be upset by tittle-tattle. ‘I bet they were disappointed you hadn’t made a second, bigamous marriage or left some damsel in distress because you couldn’t marry her.’

‘Divorce isn’t such a big thing,’ he sighed. ‘But never mind about that. Do sit down and tell me what advice were you looking for?’

Molly sat down at his table and explained how Enoch had told her to go and look for a keepsake from Cassie.

‘I found this – it fell out of a book,’ she explained, handing the letter to Simon.

He read it, but didn’t comment for a moment, just rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

‘I should tell you to take it straight to the police,’ he said. ‘This woman definitely knows something about Cassie’s past, and she’s obviously a good sort, and religious, too. But the police aren’t noted for their delicacy, and I think you could get more out of her than they would.’

‘But surely that would be tampering with evidence,’ Molly said. She knew perfectly well that she’d already decided what to do, but she supposed she hoped he’d agree it was the right thing.

‘All I can say to that is that if they’d done their job properly in the first place they would’ve found it themselves. I’m not saying you shouldn’t hand it over to them when you know a bit more detail, Molly. But let’s face it – I haven’t seen any evidence of dynamic detective work, have you?’

‘No, I suppose not,’ Molly agreed. ‘But how do we know this woman will tell me anything?’

‘She sounds like a very nice woman who cared deeply about Cassie, so she’s bound to want to talk about her to you. People do when they’re grieving.’

Molly went on to tell him then about writing to Bourne & Hollingsworth to ask about a job. ‘Their staff get accommodation in a hostel,’ she said. ‘I thought that would be better for me until I got to know my way around London.’

‘That sounds like a great plan. London can be a lonely place but, living in a hostel, you’ll get to know the other girls well.’

‘Do you think they’ll take me on?’ she asked. ‘Won’t they take one look at me and see a country bumpkin?’

‘I think they’ll look at you with your shining hair, pink cheeks and that ready smile and be delighted to employ you.’

‘You old flatterer.’ Molly laughed. ‘Now, what do you think about the lady who wrote the letter?’

Simon looked at it again. ‘There is something a little curious about her. She has beautiful handwriting, and the tone of the letter suggests that she’s well brought up, but it’s odd that such a person would live in Whitechapel.’

Molly looked at him blankly.

‘Whitechapel is in the East End of London, and it’s the rough part of the city. It was also very badly bombed during the Blitz.’

‘Well, maybe she’s a vicar’s wife or doing something to help the people there.’

‘That could be it,’ Simon nodded. ‘Let’s hope she writes back quickly to you. In the meantime, how is it at home?’

Molly shrugged. ‘Dad is as sullen as ever. He demanded to know who the letters I was posting were for. I lied to him, but I was scared he’d snatch them out of my hand. I can’t wait to get away from here, but I’m so worried about my mother – she’ll be at his mercy with no one to help her.’

‘Your policeman friend will keep an eye on her. Molly, you aren’t responsible for your parents. Your duty is primarily to yourself.’

‘I’m not sure I agree with that. The world would be a terrible place if all everyone thought of was themselves.’

Simon smiled. ‘There should be a balance, I agree, but you, my dear, have allowed your life to be completely taken over by your parents’ wishes. At your age, you should be out having fun, falling in love and being reckless and silly. Stay at home much longer and you’ll become a classic old maid.’

‘Well, I’ve been reckless enough for one night, coming into your flat,’ Molly said with a smile. ‘If that got back to Dad he’d put me under lock and key. So I’d better go. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from Constance.’

Simon walked with her to the door. ‘Be brave, little one,’ he said as he opened it for her. ‘Believe in yourself, too. You are a very special girl.’

CHAPTER SIX

Molly waved from the train window until she could no longer see George standing on the platform at Bristol’s Temple Meads Station. But when she sat down her heart plummeted.

On the drive to the station with him she hadn’t been the least bit worried about her two-night stay in London. Yet now she was in a compartment with three total strangers, it came to her that, when she was in the city, there would be absolutely no one to turn to for help.

George had arranged for her to spend two nights in a small guest house he’d stayed at a couple of times when he had to be in court in London. It was close to Paddington Station, and he’d even drawn her a little map so she could find it easily.

Tomorrow morning at eleven she had her interview at Bourne & Hollingsworth. After that she would have to find her way from Oxford Street to Whitechapel to see Constance, then back again to Paddington for her last night there.

What had seemed so simple when George was talking about it now looked so scary. What if she got lost? People said London was dangerous. Supposing someone stole her handbag with all her money and train tickets?

Molly had never been to London before. In fact, the furthest she’d been from her home was a day trip to Weston-super-Mare. She recalled her disappointment when her father refused to let her go to London for the Coronation. He was going to be savage when he got up today to discover that, this time, she’d taken off without his permission.

She smiled at the thought of it. He hated anyone getting one over him and was smart enough to realize she would have been planning this for days. Of course, she’d be for it when she got home but, hopefully, she’d be able to inform him that he’d have no further say in her future, as Bourne & Hollingsworth had offered her a position.