The Blood Royal(32)

‘Hope? What hope? Oliver and I were looking forward to the next stage in our lives. He was retiring from the Navy, you know. In the autumn. Coming home to us at last, like his hero Ulysses.’ Her smile was forgiving. ‘Like Penelope, I’d served my twenty years of loneliness. But, unlike Ulysses’ deserted spouse, I shall never have my man back from the sea. Hope gone, you see, Lily.’

‘Never!’ Lily said defiantly. ‘This isn’t the time or the place and I’m not the person to sound the trumpet so I’ll let the admiral’s hero do it himself: How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use! Didn’t Ulysses say that?’

‘Lily! My dear! How could you know …?’ Cassandra began to breathe unsteadily, her composure shattered by the words. ‘That was Oliver’s favourite poem! And now I hear you giving his sentiments back to me. I hear him saying it: “Never grow rusty … shine in use …” And I don’t doubt he would have concluded: Tho’ much is taken, much abides.’ Cassandra seemed to draw comfort from the memory and the verse. She smiled bravely over the rim of her cup and changed the subject. ‘Does he terrify you?’ she asked.

‘He? Me?’ Lily stammered.

‘Yes. Your commander. You. He can be a bit of a steamroller. He terrifies me! So young. So competent. So demanding. One must not be taken in by the handsome exterior, the easy smile, you know. He tried to teach me to shoot. When all this was gathering … Oliver was unconcerned, of course. Thought he was indestructible … Well, the might of the Kaiser’s navy had failed to sink him, after all! Joe offered me a tiny gun – he could see I was worried – to hide in my bag and he showed me how to use it. Ididn’t catch on very fast, I’m afraid. Hopeless, in fact. After an hour’s practice, he shrugged and grumped at me: “Well, the noise might scare someone off, I suppose.”’ She rolled her eyes and pulled a rueful face. ‘I felt I’d failed him.’

‘You hadn’t failed him. Didn’t they tell you? Well, I shall. One of your bullets was found lodged in the back of the larger of the two attackers. You got one of the villains, Lady Dedham! A more powerful pistol would have killed him on the spot.’

To Lily’s mortification, Cassandra’s coffee cup began to rattle on its saucer. She placed it back on the table with trembling hand, gasped and choked. Sniffs announced the breaking of a dam of tears and she reached blindly for the handkerchief Lily quickly took from her pocket and held towards her.

‘If only I’d run faster back down the hall … if I’d shot straighter … with a bigger gun … Oliver! Oliver! I’m so sorry!’ The words came, haphazard, filtered through the fabric of the handkerchief, bubbling up with the sobs.

What was a woman policeman to do? Most certainly not adopt the course of action Lily took. With her resignation letter crackling reassurance in her pocket, she gave way to instinct and moved round the table to kneel at Cassandra’s side. She took the shaking shoulders in a hug, murmuring consoling nonsense into a damp right ear. To her surprise, Cassandra didn’t pull away or freeze into immobility or curl her upper lip in disdain. She hugged her back and the volume of hot tears increased. Finally, noting a slight subsiding of the volume and a lengthening interval between gulps of air, Lily drew away and muttered an apology for the contact.

With a final toot into her handkerchief, Cassandra gave a brave smile. ‘Rubbish, Lily, my dear! Any time’s hugging time … And no one else is going to oblige now. My boys are both useless huggers! If I try to approach them with a hug in mind they stand like a pair of cold seals with their flippers at their sides and suffer my attentions for two seconds. Is there more coffee left in the pot, do you suppose? Good. Now, I shot one, you say? Well done me! Do you think I may expect to hear Joe’s congratulations? I shan’t count on it. Tell me – how long have you known him?’

Lily decided on a half-truth. ‘The commander? I wouldn’t say I know him. We’re working on a case together,’ she said, holding Cassandra’s sharp gaze.

‘Ah! Then you’ll need no advice from me on handling him. He does have his weaknesses, which can be exploited …’

‘I wouldn’t dream of handling him,’ said Lily, taken by surprise. ‘But you’re right – he does have weaknesses, one of which is, strangely, his sense of honour.’ She pursued the thought, hoping to hear more in return for her offering. ‘It can be a self-destructive quality. He’s resigned his position. Did he tell you that? This morning. Envelope on the Home Secretary’s desk and all that.’