Free The Furies by Irving McCabe Page A

before the police arrived. So only Grace was arrested and she was tried and convicted, then sent to prison.’
    â€˜Holloway?’
    â€˜Yes. She went on hunger strike and was force-fed, but there must have been a problem, because some of the feed went into her lungs and she caught pneumonia and died.’
    The death of a close friend
, Elspeth thought. That could certainly unhinge a person. Might even bring on delusional thoughts that they were being followed…
    â€˜Apparently for a while Anya was inconsolable,’ Vera continued. ‘I think she loved Grace very dearly. Anyway, a while after that I was asked by Christabel to form an arson squad and with Anya’s previous experience she was an obvious choice. Then I asked Sylvie to join, and she of course recommended you and—’
    Thump, thump, thump: the sound of the front door knocker. Vera stepped past Elspeth; she looked out of the window and waved at somebody below. When she pulled her head back inside, there was a smile of relief on her face.
    â€˜It’s Anya.’
    â€˜I’ll let her in,’ Elspeth said. She opened her bedroom door and hurried down the stairs. Arriving at the bottom, she saw Mrs Evans coming out of the scullery at the back of the house, wiping her hands on a kitchen cloth.
    â€˜Oh, it’s alright, Mrs Evans. It’s the other friend I mentioned.’
    â€˜You sure you ladies don’t want some refreshments?’
    â€˜No, really, we’re fine, thank you, Mrs Evans,’ Elspeth replied.
    Mrs Evans smiled and went back into the scullery while Elspeth went to open the front door.
    With high cheekbones and a helmet of short, shiny black hair like the wing of a raven, Anya regarded Elspeth with large brown eyes and a serious look on her angular face. A tall, wiry figure, she was dressed in a black skirt and off-white blouse, and carried a battered black suitcase in one hand. Perched on her head was a flat, red beret. She looked up and down the street for a moment, and then stepped over the threshold.
    â€˜Ellie,’ she said in a deeply resonant Slavic accent. She kissed Elspeth on both cheeks and then stood back. ‘How are you?’ Before Elspeth could reply, Anya leant forwards and whispered in her ear. ‘You did good job in Abbey.’ She pulled away, gave Elspeth a wink, and then without waiting to be invited walked quickly past her and onto the stairs. Elspeth sighed and shook her head, then closed the front door and followed Anya upstairs.
    When Elspeth re-entered her bedroom, Anya was already standing at the open window, gazing down at the street below, an awkward-looking Vera by her side. As Elspeth closed the door she glanced across at Sylvia, still sitting on the edge of her bed: she also looked uncomfortable with Anya’s behaviour. After a moment Anya drew back from the window and walked across to Elspeth, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze. Her grip – for someone so slender – was surprisingly strong.
    â€˜You did very good job, Ellie. Next time, we make bigger bomb, attack bigger target. Maybe Tower of London. Maybe Royal Albert Hall. What do you think?’
    Elspeth brushed Anya’s arm – and question – aside.
    â€˜What’s this about being followed?’
    Anya’s eyes narrowed. Then she looked at Vera and back at Elspeth again.
    â€˜Vera told you?’
    Elspeth nodded, her eyes not leaving Anya’s face.
    â€˜Do not worry, Ellie,’ Anya replied with a reassuring smile. She reached across to caress the side of Elspeth’s face. ‘I check carefully and I see no watchers. In my country secret police follows people. In your country Special Branch follows people. We must always be on look out.’
    â€˜What have you done that your secret police should want to follow you?’
    â€˜I have done nothing.’ The smile faded. ‘But my cousin Bogdan…’ She sighed.