The Trouble at Wakeley Court (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 8) (7 page)

‘Of course,’ said Angela. ‘But first I must go and do my duty to the headmistress. She has invited me to have tea with her and some of the teachers.’

‘Be sure and put a word in for me with Miss Finch,’ said Barbara. ‘She was pretty scathing about my History essay earlier. You might tell her I’m a misunderstood genius. Come on, Flo. We’d better go or we’ll be late.’

She dashed off, followed by the other girl, leaving Angela to find her own way to the headmistress’s room. Miss Bell greeted her with the utmost politeness, and after an exchange of pleasantries escorted her along to the staff common-room, where they were to have tea and Angela was to meet the teachers.

‘This is Miss Finch, our Classics and History mistress,’ said Miss Bell, introducing a small, dark woman with shrewd eyes and a brisk manner, who looked Angela over with some appearance of misgiving, although whether she had taken a personal dislike to the visitor or whether that was her usual manner was impossible to say. ‘She is my deputy.’

‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ said Angela.

‘You are the godmother of Barbara Wells,’ said Miss Finch, and it came out like a snap. ‘Bright child, but needs taking in hand. I’ve seen it before with motherless girls. They can grow up to be quite a handful if not kept in check.’

‘Oh yes?’ murmured Angela politely.

Miss Bell interjected diplomatically.

‘I must say that Barbara has improved tremendously since our little—er—chat two weeks ago,’ she said.

Miss Finch nodded, and Miss Bell steered Angela across to another teacher, a small, shrivelled-looking elderly man who sported a splendid, bushy moustache that appeared to have emerged accidentally from his nose and spread across half his face.

‘This is Mr. Penkridge, our Music master,’ she said. ‘Mr. Penkridge, this is Mrs. Marchmont, who has been so generous as to establish the Mathematics scholarship which I mentioned to you the other day.’

Mr. Penkridge gave a little bow and beamed.

‘N-hem! Enchanted, madam,’ he said. ‘I am delighted to hear of your interest in expanding the knowledge of our young minds here. It is only a pity that we did not meet earlier, or I might have persuaded you to extend your philanthropy in the direction of our Music students too.’

‘Now, Mr. Penkridge,’ said Miss Bell, with some slight embarrassment. ‘It will not do to test the generosity of our patrons.’ She turned to Angela. ‘Mr. Penkridge’s enthusiasm occasionally runs away with him, but I assure you that he has nothing but his pupils’ best interests at heart.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr. Penkridge happily. ‘Miss Bell will tell you of my firm belief that Music is quite the most important of all subjects. I always say, Mrs. Marchmont, that a life lived without music is a life tragically wasted. One could not say the same of Geography or French, don’t you agree? The other teachers laugh at me for my conviction. It is quite a little joke between us. N-hem! And so you are Barbara’s godmother?’ His smile faltered, but only briefly. ‘I don’t know whether she has mentioned it to you, but we have been studying Baroque choral music this term, and I may say truthfully of her voice that I have never before encountered one of such volume or penetration.’ He paused to reflect briefly. ‘No, in all my years of teaching Music I have never heard anything to equal it. Her enthusiasm is quite heartening.’

Having heard Barbara sing once or twice, Angela forbore to put him in an awkward position by questioning him more closely on the subject of her god-daughter’s musical abilities, and they moved on to the next teacher. Miss Devlin taught Games and Geography, and greeted Angela with a hearty handshake. A strongly-built woman, as one might expect, she had a surprisingly high, soft voice and a marked speech impediment, which when set against her appearance had an unfortunately comical effect. She said what was proper and then retreated behind her tea-cup.

‘This is Mlle. Delacroix,’ said Miss Bell, next.

Mam’selle was tall and elegant, and dressed with impeccable Parisian taste, which must have taken some skill and effort on a teacher’s salary, thought Angela. The French mistress had a pleasant and humorous manner, and the two ladies hit it off immediately, each perhaps sensing a kindred spirit in the other.

‘I like your Barbara,’ said Mam’selle. ‘Her French is quite dreadful but she is very funny and so I forgive her much.’ She glanced over at Miss Bell, who was talking to Miss Finch at that moment, and lowered her voice. ‘
She
likes Barbara too, but she will never say it, as it does not do to show favouritism. That is why she did not expel her.’

‘Miss Bell seems a very capable woman,’ Angela said cautiously.

‘Oh, she is,’ agreed Mam’selle. ‘And as you have found out, she is particularly good at persuading people to part with their money for the good of the school.’

‘That’s true enough,’ said Angela with feeling, and they both laughed.

The next teacher was Mr. Welland.

‘Augustus Welland,’ he said, introducing himself. The English master was tall and handsome, and evidently very pleased with the fact. He shook back the long lock of hair that fell carelessly over his forehead, and began to talk. Within a very few seconds it became clear that Mr. Welland’s chief interest in life was Mr. Welland. Every question he asked Mrs. Marchmont was used merely as a spur from which to introduce some anecdote of his own about himself. Occasionally, he diverged into observations about the wider world, but always he returned to his favourite topic. Within ten minutes, Angela had heard his views upon literature, art, foreign travel (he had recently visited Russia and had many things to say on developments in that country), the Plight of the Working Man, and the trial of the carpenter in Dagenham who murdered all three of his wives and made their coffins himself—all with regard to the way in which they affected him personally. He was just launching into an impassioned diatribe against the professor at his old university who had failed to recognize his genius and award him a double first, when Miss Bell came to the rescue, somewhat to Angela’s relief.

She then spoke briefly to Mr. Hesketh, whose demeanour was as bland as ever and gave no clue as to his real identity or purpose in coming to the school.

‘I think the only person you have not yet met is Miss Fazackerley, our Mathematics teacher,’ said Miss Bell. ‘Barbara no longer has lessons with her, as she and some of the other brighter girls are at present receiving special tuition from me until we can find a suitable teacher—’ she looked around. ‘Oh, I’m sure she was here a moment ago.’

Angela remembered having seen a lumpish-looking woman with untidy hair and a morose expression, but could not see her now.

‘She went out a few minutes ago,’ said Mlle. Delacroix.

‘Oh dear,’ said Miss Bell. ‘Then you shall meet her later, Mrs. Marchmont. Mam’selle, will you please show our guest up to her room?’

‘Certainly,’ said Mam’selle, and stood back politely to let Angela go first. As they left the room, Mr. Hesketh caught Angela’s eye then looked away quickly.

The guest-room was a small one, comfortably furnished and with a pretty flowered bedspread and cushion covers which had presumably been made by the girls. Its little window looked out towards one edge of the lake and the tennis courts. Beyond that was a small summer-house and a little way off to one side were some outbuildings.

‘It’s very pleasant,’ said Angela.

‘Yes,’ said Mam’selle. ‘It is not a bad place. English girls are quite impossible, of course, but I am used to them and don’t mind them.’

‘Have you lived in England long?’ said Angela.

‘Seven years,’ said Mam’selle. ‘Although I have been at this school only a year. Before that I was at a school in Yorkshire.’

‘Forgive me,’ said Angela, ‘but you don’t look much like a teacher.’

‘No,’ admitted the other. ‘It was not what was planned for me. My family wanted me to marry a man who was very rich but much older than I, and for a while I believed I could do it.’

‘But you preferred teaching?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Mam’selle. ‘I merely decided that I did not wish to marry, so instead of coming to the church I ran away to England.’

‘What, on your wedding day?’ said Angela, taken aback.

‘Yes,’ said Mam’selle.

‘But what did your family say about it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Mam’selle with a shrug. ‘I have never spoken to them since. Perhaps they are still there at the church, waiting.’

Evidently there was much more to the story than Mam’selle had told, but it would have been rude to inquire, and so Angela remained silent. The French mistress said that she would leave Mrs. Marchmont to arrange herself, and that she must ask if she wanted anything, and then left.

Angela stood by the window looking out at the grounds, and thought that a girls’ school seemed a very unlikely place for international intrigue—although, of course, anyone with wicked intentions would hardly go around proclaiming it publicly. Still, the place was peaceful enough at present. She spent a few minutes considering how best to approach her task, and decided to abide by her original plan, which had been to get an introduction to the Princess through Barbara, and see what she could find out from her. It suddenly struck her that Henry Jameson had not said whether or not Princess Irina was aware that a man had been placed at the school for her protection. Did she know about Mr. Hesketh? And, moreover, was Angela permitted to tell Irina that she had also been sent to investigate? Angela did not know, but it was clear that the only way to find out was to speak to Mr. Hesketh, and she resolved to do that as soon as possible.

Dinner would not be for a little while yet, and Miss Bell had invited her to make free of the place and take a stroll around the grounds if she liked, so Angela went downstairs and, after getting lost once or twice, finally found herself in the entrance-hall and went out through the open door. She walked along under the portico and back through another arch, and found herself in the Quad, a lawned courtyard with paths that ran diagonally across from each corner to meet a stone fountain in the centre. Another portico ran all the way around it, and at the edge of the grass stone benches were placed, on which girls might sit and reflect quietly on the beautiful surroundings should they so desire—although given the noise that usually echoed around the walls, it was doubtful whether the benches were ever put to their intended use. The Gothic style was more evident here and the portico made Angela think of cloisters in a convent or a monastery. She half-expected to see nuns walking about the place in pairs, but instead there were only one or two girls in blue and brown tunics, hurrying from one part of the school to another.

After admiring the building for some time, Angela turned and left the Quad the way she had come. As she emerged onto the lawn she was not entirely surprised to see Mr. Hesketh hovering some little distance away. He glanced about as she approached him.

‘I take it you wish to speak to me,’ said Angela.

‘If you don’t mind,’ he said.

‘Where can we go so as not to be overheard?’

‘I think we had better remain in the open and make it look as though I am showing you around the place,’ said Hesketh. ‘I always find that skulking furtively in corners tends to attract attention, especially in a place such as this,’ he explained with a smile.

‘I imagine it does,’ said Angela. ‘Then suppose you show me how delightful and harmonious the school building looks from the lake.’

‘It is a nice building, isn’t it?’ said Hesketh as they walked. ‘I rather like it myself. It reminds me of my old school, although I haven’t been back to the place in some years.’

They stopped close to the lake and turned back, apparently engaged in gazing at the building.

‘So, then, I gather you have been stationed here to protect Princess Irina,’ said Angela. ‘Teaching at a girls’ school must be a quiet life for an Intelligence man.’

‘A quiet life, do you call it?’ he said. ‘I take it you have never taught.’

‘No,’ admitted Angela.

‘Then believe me when I say that I am finding the work quite as lively as anything I have done up to now,’ he said with some feeling.

Angela laughed, and he immediately retreated behind his bland manner once again.

‘Yes, Mrs. Marchmont,’ he continued, ‘I have been sent here to keep an eye on things—as, I gather, have you.’

‘I have,’ she replied. ‘Mr. Jameson seemed to think I should be able to find out more from the girls than you can, but I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m supposed to be looking for.’

‘I’m not certain myself,’ said Hesketh. ‘Of course, the most obvious thing is the arrival of any suspicious strangers in the area. My lodgings are in the village, which is about half a mile away, and I have been most fortunate in my landlady, who is a gossip of the highest order and can be relied upon absolutely to report the arrival of anybody new or mysterious—the more mysterious the better, in fact, for she appears to subsist on a diet of penny-dreadfuls and is generally inclined to see spies and murderers wherever she looks. She is also friends with the cook at the school, and quite frequently knows more about what is going on than I do.’

‘Goodness,’ said Angela. ‘I wonder they bothered sending you at all when they might have recruited her instead.’

‘The thought had occurred to me,’ he said. ‘Still, she is not “on the spot,” as I am, and so cannot see everything. Of course, you will have realized, Mrs. Marchmont, that the difficulty is not so much the presence of mysterious strangers, as the possibility that someone at the school may be working on behalf of Princess Irina’s enemies.’

‘Do you think that is the case, then?’

‘I can’t say for certain,’ he said. ‘As you have seen for yourself, everything here seems pretty quiet and the teachers above suspicion, and yet my nose tells me that
something
is afoot. I only wish I knew what it was, but I have the impression that somebody is hiding something. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but the last time I had this feeling, the President of a certain country was shortly afterwards deposed and disposed of.’

‘Do you suspect one of the teachers? Or perhaps a servant?’ said Angela.