Free Corridors of the Night by Anne Perry Page B

us don’t ever imagine, and he describes them so vividly.’
    Adrienne smiled and relaxed back again. ‘Oh, yes. He will live more fully in one year than most men do in their whole lives.’ Her face was bright with admiration.
    Radnor had spoken only of himself. Was that self-obsession, or did he assume Hester would take it for granted that Adrienne had been on at least some of his adventures?
    ‘I have been only to the Crimea, and to America once, at the very start of their civil war,’ Hester said.
    ‘That doesn’t sound very pleasant.’ Adrienne looked at her with interest, perhaps even a touch of compassion. ‘I’ve been to Paris. It’s a wonderful city, so beautiful, so . . . special. There’s a magic in the air. Does that sound silly?’
    ‘Not at all. Tell me something about it.’
    ‘My father took me,’ Adrienne began. ‘It was a little while ago now, but I shall remember it as long as I live.’
    Hester listened for half an hour, reboiled the kettle and drank more tea as Adrienne told her about Paris, how her father knew it so well, his passion for the beauty of it, the history, and the little out-of-the-way corners most people never found.
    Her face was animated; her eyes bright, her voice lifted with enthusiasm, and admiration, not for the city so much as the man so passionately alive who had shown it to her.
    She mentioned nowhere else. Radnor had spoken of a dozen places. Was Paris the only one to which he had taken her?
    When at last Adrienne left, still determined to check on her father, Hester finally escaped Magnus Rand’s attention and hurried back to the children’s ward to see Maggie and Charlie. She wanted to know for herself how they were, even though Magnus had assured her that they were doing well. More than that, she had questions to ask them.
    She found all three of them sitting on Charlie’s bed, playing cat’s cradle with long pieces of string tied into loops. Until they noticed her, they were all concentrating on weaving patterns with their fingers.
    Then some movement caught Maggie’s eye and she looked up. Her face filled with delight and she dropped the thread of string, ran over to Hester and threw her arms around her.
    Hester hugged her back before she gave a thought to the impropriety of it, or not.
    ‘Yer come back!’ Maggie said with delight. ‘Look at Charlie! Yer saved ’im!’ She broke free and turned to point at Charlie, sitting up in bed, still pale and thin, but with a little more colour in his cheeks and definitely very wide awake. Mike, beside him, no longer looked frightened.
    ‘I think we both saved him,’ Hester answered. She did not want any of them to see her as a miracle worker. ‘I’ve come to see how you are,’ she went on. ‘And to ask you about yourselves. I’d like to know.’
    She walked over to the bed and Mike shifted closer to Charlie to make room for her.
    First she touched the foreheads of each of them, and then felt their pulses. She was satisfied that the new nurse who had replaced Mrs Gilmore was doing her job well, and she felt the knots of tension ease inside her.
    ‘You’re doing fine,’ she said with a smile. ‘How did you find this hospital? Do you live near here?’
    ‘I dunno where we are,’ Maggie admitted. She looked at Charlie, and he shook his head.
    ‘Greenwich,’ Hester told them. This was not a good start.
    ‘That’s the other side of the river,’ Charlie told her, shaking his head. ‘An’ down a bit,’ he added.
    So they came from the north bank, and upriver a bit, not far from Wapping.
    ‘Limehouse?’ she asked. ‘Or the Isle of Dogs?’
    ‘The ’igh Street,’ Charlie told her.
    Every neighbourhood had its High Street, so that was some help, but not a lot.
    ‘Do you remember coming here?’ she asked, looking at each of them in turn.
    They all shook their heads.
    ‘Were you asleep?’
    ‘Must ’a been,’ Charlie agreed.
    ‘Did your ma and pa come with you?’
    They shook their heads