Free The Attenbury Emeralds by Jill Paton Walsh Page B

I’m tired of these anemones; shall we walk on?’
    ‘When you are ready to complete the tale of the Attenbury emeralds…’
    ‘By all means. Your powers of endurance are astonishing. Of course Sugg’s case collapsed, but with a suddenness and completeness that took our breath away – Bunter’s and mine, I mean. Attenbury’s house-party dissolved at once, leaving, I must say, plenty of wrack behind. But everyone dispersed.
    ‘Arresting Osmanthus was a cardinal error. The jewel had not gone missing till after five o’clock at the earliest; Lady Attenbury’s maid had taken it from the banker’s box and given it to Jeannette at five, and she was unshakeably certain of it. And at the time she did that Osmanthus was on his way back to London, and, it turned out, in company with none other than Mr Whitehead, who had taken the same train, and got so pally with Osmanthus that he provided an indignant alibi. And no emerald of any kind, nor any other jewel than a diamond-studded fountain pen was found in Osmanthus’s quarters at the Oriental Club.’
    ‘What about Osmanthus’s own king-stone? The Maharaja’s, I mean?’
    ‘What indeed? My best guess was that Osmanthus got to hear of the uproar at Fennybrook Hall, and saw at once there was a danger of his own stone being impounded, and got it safely stowed somewhere.’
    ‘Did you take leave of Charles?’
    ‘I’m afraid I didn’t linger. Being forbidden to leave somewhere makes it a terrible ordeal to stay there, even if, left to oneself, one would choose to stay and one was having a jolly time. Bunter and I packed up and bolted back to Piccadilly as if the devil were after me.’
    ‘Poor Bunter,’ said Harriet with feeling.
    ‘I simply can’t imagine why everyone is so censorious about my driving,’ said Peter. ‘I have never had an accident…’
    Harriet shuddered at various vivid recollections from the passenger seat, and said nothing. Peter patted the back of her hand where it rested on his forearm, as if he could sympathise. The two walked on in companionable silence for a while. They reached Hyde Park Corner. Peter said, ‘Would you like tea at the Ritz? Just because I married you shouldn’t put an end to flamboyant assignations.’
    ‘Will there be real Darjeeling tea?’ asked Harriet.
    ‘Certainly there will. The world has not yet gone to hell in a handcart. And delectably thin cucumber sandwiches. Do say yes, Harriet, I’m freezing in the open air. Be like Great Anna whom three realms obey.’
    ‘Gladly, my lord,’ said Harriet.
    ‘I always think I have been behaving somehow ridiculously when you call me that, my lady,’ said Peter.

    They ordered tea with cucumber sandwiches, and maids of honour, and settled comfortably at a corner table with a glimpse across the terrace to the trees of the park.
    ‘It almost seems as though the war never happened, here,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s a good place to tell me fairy stories about the world before.’
    ‘Before the war?’
    ‘Before I met you.’
    ‘Where was I?’
    ‘You had unmannerly departed without taking leave of the then Sergeant Parker.’
    ‘I asked him to lunch with me the following week. To talk about Athanasius, you understand. But I learned from him that the person who had shopped me to Inspector Sugg was the wretched girl Jeannette. She had warned him when he tried a second time to bully her into confessing that every word he said was being overheard by his betters. He had the linen room locked immediately, though too late.’
    ‘So Charles kept quiet about you. I’m glad. What happened to Jeannette?’
    ‘Attenbury bailed her on his surety. And my mother found her a job with an elderly cousin, in need of companionship. One of Uncle Paul’s many ramificating relations. And in France. Out of the way of English spite.’
    ‘What about her young man?’
    ‘Joined her in France. Don’t know how they fared in the war. Must ask my mother. She’ll know.’
    ‘So have you