“I know this happened some time ago, but I wonder if you can remember anything about the day she said she was leaving. Was it an ordinary day? Or were the children doing something different, out of the normal routine?” asked Maisie.
“I was probably at work—darling, do you remember?” Allison turned to his wife.
“Oh dear, let me see.” Margaret Allison scratched her forehead. “Well, after breakfast, Usha usually began lessons with the children—she always liked to make it a happy time for them, she said they remembered things if there was a game attached to it, which seemed to work very well, so I had no argument with her on that point. After lessons, if the day was fine, she would take the children for a walk and they would come back with all sorts of treasures—a fallen chestnut, or a leaf, perhaps an insect in a glass jar.”
“And she generally walked around the area where you lived—did she ever take a bus anywhere, for example?”
“Good lord, no,” said Allison. “We were all for children having lessons in a fairly unconventional manner, but to go out on a bus? No, that sort of thing wasn’t really on.”
“I see. And where did you live in St. John’s Wood?”
“Alwyn Gardens. A lovely house, wasn’t it, Gerald?”
“Rather cramped, I thought, but it sufficed for a while until we found this one.”
“Which is perfect,” said his wife.
“If I may come back to Usha,” said Maisie. “What can you tell me about the day she gave notice of her intention to leave your employ?”
“I was out for most of the day,” said Margaret Allison. “And I returned after tea with friends. The children were in the nursery, and all was well. It was all according to the usual round for the day—Usha bathed the children, read them a story, then they were allowed to read quietly until their father and I came up to say good night. Usha knocked on the door of the drawing room—we were having drinks, if I remember rightly. She came in and said straightaway that she had decided she wanted to leave, that it was nothing to do with us or the children, whom she loved, but she said she had been offered another job and would be leaving the following morning—she specifically wanted to leave before the children were up, so she wouldn’t have to say good-bye to them.”
“Then what happened?”
“We were shocked, of course. I mean, we had treated her more than fairly. She could not have found better employers here or in India,” said Allison.
“You were very angry, Gerald.”
“Darling, you were rather angry yourself—it left us in the lurch.” Allison turned from his wife to Maisie. “My wife was alone with the children all morning until we were able to cover Usha’s absence. Mind you, despite the hard feelings at her news, we paid her in full and also gave her a bit extra.”
“Did you have any reason to believe she was lying, or was scared?”
“I only thought it was so out of character, and it occurred to me that she might have had some sort of shock.”
“What made you think she’d had a shock—did she seem scared?”
The couple looked at each other; then Allison spoke. “She was jittery. Nervous. It was as if she had to act with speed.”
“Did you ask her whether she was all right, whether she was under some sort of strain?”
“Of course we did, Miss Dobbs,” said Margaret Allison. “I mean, we deserved more of an explanation, after all we’d done for her. But she just said she was anxious to leave as soon as possible so as not to upset the children. She said that she had made her decision, so now she had to act.”
“I see.” Maisie looked at her hands, then back at the Allisons. “Is there anything else you noticed before all this happened?”
The couple looked at each other, and shook their heads in unison.
“No, not at all,” said Allison.
“And you never heard from her again,” said Maisie, as a statement to be confirmed, or not.
“No, we never heard a word from or about her until the detectives came to ask if she had worked for us and when she had left our employ.”
Maisie nodded. “Right. You’ve been very kind to allow me so much of your time, especially when you must be so tired from traveling.”
“We wanted to help. Usha may not have left our house as we might have wished, but we would