'I think I'm going to be away for the next few days,' said Tuppence. 'So you needn't order in anything. I'm going to take some railway journeys.'

'Will you be wanting some sandwiches?'

'I might. Get some ham or something.'

'Egg and cheese do you? Or there's a tin of fat in the larder-it's been there a long while, time it was eaten.' It was a somewhat sinister recommendation, but Tuppence said, 'All right. That'll do.'

'Want letters forwarded?'

'I don't even know where I'm going yet,' said Tuppence.

'I see,' said Albert.

The comfortable thing about Albert was that he always accepted everything. Nothing ever had to be explained to him.

He went away and Tuppence settled down to her planning. What she wanted was: a social engagement involving a hat and party shoes. Unfortunately the ones she had listed involved different railway lines. One wedding on the Southern Railway, the other in East Anglia. The christening north of Bedford.

If she could remember a little more about the scenery… She had been sitting on the right hand side of the train. What had she been looking at before the canal? Woods? Trees? Farmland? A distant village?

Straining her brain, she looked up with a frown-Albert had come back. How far she was at that moment from knowing that Albert standing there waiting for attention was neither more nor less than an answer to prayer 'Well, what is it now, Albert?'

'If it's that you're going to be away all day tomorrow…'

'And the day after as well, probably.'

'Would it be all right for me to have the day off?'

'Yes, of course.'

'It's Elizabeth-come out in spots she has. Milly thinks it's measles.'

'Oh dear.' Milly was Albert's wife and Elizabeth was the youngest of his children. 'So Milly wants you at home, of course.'

Albert lived in a small neat house a street or two away.

'It's not that so much. She likes me out of the way when she's got her hands full-she doesn't want me messing things up. But it's the other kids-I could take 'em somewhere out of her way.'

'Of course. You're all in quarantine, I suppose.'

'Oh! well, best for 'em all to get it, and get it over. Charlie's had it, and so has Jean. Anyway, that'll be all right?'

Tuppence assured him that it would be all right.

Something was stirring in the depths of her subconscious A happy anticipation-a recognition-Measles! Yes, measles.

Something to do with measles.

But why should the house by the canal have anything to do with measles…?

Of course! Anthea. Anthea was Tuppence's goddaughter and Anthea's daughter Jane was at school-her first term-and it was Prize Giving and Anthea had rung up-her two younger children had come out in a measles rash and she had nobody in the house to help and Jane would be terribly disappointed if nobody came-Could Tuppence possibly? And Tuppence had said of course. She wasn't doing anything particular-she'd go down to the school and take Jane out and give her lunch and then go back to the sports and all the rest of it. There was a special school train.

Everything came back into her mind with astonishing clarity-even the dress she'd worn-a summer print of cornflowers!

She had seen the house on the return journey.

Going down there she had been absorbed in a magazine she had bought, but coming back she had had nothing to read, and she had looked out of the window until, exhausted by the activities of the day, and the pressure of her shoes, she had dropped off to sleep.

When she had woken up the train had been running beside a canal. It was partially wooded country, an occasional bridge, sometimes a twisting lane or minor road-a distant farm-no villages.

The train began to slow down, for no reason it would seem, except that a signal must be against it. It drew jerkily a halt by a bridge, a little hump-backed bridge which spanned the canal, a disused canal presumably. On the other side of the canal, close to the water, was the house-a house that Tuppence thought at once was one of the most attractive houses she had ever seen-a quiet, peaceful house, irradiated by the golden light of the late afternoon sun.

There was no human being to be seen-no dogs, or livestock.

Yet the green shutters were not fastened. The house must be lived in, but now, at this moment, it was empty.

'I must find out about that house,' Tuppence had thought. 'Someday I must come back here and look at it. It's the kind of house I'd like to live in.'

With a jerk the train lurched slowly forwards.

'I'll look out for the name of the next station so that I'll know where it is.'

But there had been no appropriate station. It was the time when things were beginning to happen to railways-small stations were closed, even pulled down, grass sprouted on the decayed platforms. For twenty ninutes-half an hour-the train ran on, but nothing identifiable was to be seen. Over fields, in the far distance, Tuppence once saw the spire of a church.

Then had come some factory complex-tall chimneys-a line of pre-fab houses, then open country again.

Tuppence had thought to herself: 'That house was rather like a dream! Perhaps it was a dream. I don't suppose I'll ever go and look for it-too difficult. Besides, rather a pity, perhaps someday, maybe, I'll come across it by accident!'

And so she had forgotten all about it until a picture hanging on a wall had reawakened a veiled memory.

And now, thanks to one word uttered unwittingly by Albert, the quest was ended.

Or, to speak correctly, a quest was beginning.

Tuppence sorted out three maps, a guidebook, and various other accessories.

Roughly now she knew the area she would have to search.

Jane's school she marked with a large cross-the branch railway line, which ran into the new line to London-the time lapse whilst she had slept.

The final area as planned covered a considerable mileage north of Medchester, southeast of Market Basing which was a small town, but was quite an important railway junction, west probably of Shaleborough.

She'd take the car, and start early tomorrow morning.

She got up and went into the bedroom and studied the picture over the mantelpiece.

Yes, there was no mistake. That was the house she had seen from the train three years ago. The house she had promised to look for someday. Someday had come. Someday was tomorrow.