Murder in the East End - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,20
had promised to meet Mrs. Compton, so I took an omnibus to Gray’s Inn Road, having had enough of underground trains. I alighted in a pelting rain and made my way to the kitchen door of the Foundling Hospital.
A delivery van stood before it, Hansen’s Produce emblazoned in red and blue on its black side. I tramped down the short flight of stairs and opened the door, happy to find it still unlocked. Above the noise of the bustling scullery and servants’ hall beyond, I heard the unmistakable and affable laugh of Daniel McAdam.
I shook rain from my coat as I walked toward the servants’ hall, annoyed with the man. If I’d known Daniel had taken my advice to enter the Hospital with the excuse of making deliveries, it might have saved me some trouble.
I reached the servants’ hall to find him laughing with Mrs. Shaw, the woman Grace had helped with the darning. Even the sour Bessie gave him a smile.
Daniel broke off when he saw me peeking in the doorway. “Ah, Mrs. . . . Holloway, is it? I deliver to your kitchen.”
He sounded proud he remembered me. I gave him a cool nod. “Indeed. Perhaps you should be about your business.”
“Now, missus, can’t blame a fellow for stopping to pass the time of day when that day is so horrible, can you? Cats and dogs it is out there—cats and dogs. I heard them yowling as they came down.”
Every person in the room found this hilarious, especially the delighted young women.
“Mr. . . . McAdam, is it?” I returned. “The man with the impudent tongue.”
No one paid me any heed. Daniel held sway here, and an interloping cook from a stately household would not change this.
“She is quite right.” Daniel gave me a wink that set off a new gale of laughter around him. “I have been frivolous long enough. Must deliver the rest of my load so I don’t lose my post. Pleasant to have met you all.”
He waved like a monarch leaving his populace, amidst cries of, “Good night, Mr. McAdam!” “Come again soon, do!” “Have a care of the cold, man.” This last from a male servant, as charmed by him as were the ladies.
I backed into the passageway to let him by, and Daniel looked straight at me as he passed. While his smile never wavered, I read in his eyes that he wished to speak to me. He strode along the corridor and out the door with his usual verve, likely expecting me to follow him out.
Mrs. Compton exited the kitchen just after that, bundled in coat and hat to join me.
“I’m sorry about the commotion, Mrs. Holloway,” Mrs. Compton said as she led me toward the back door. “The delivery was very late, and the new deliveryman wheedled a cup of tea out of the maids. I’d wanted to slip out without anyone seeing, but it can’t be helped now.”
“We are both cooks,” I said to soothe her. “Not unusual for cooks to have a chat together.”
“Well, I hope that is all they see.” Mrs. Compton sounded anxious as she bustled me up the stairs and outside, staying close to me as we went out.
The sky was dark as we emerged, the sun setting early in February, spring still many weeks away.
The delivery van had not moved. Daniel lounged at the rear of the vehicle, its back door open. “You ladies are welcome to ride with me,” he said cheerily. “Get you out of the weather.”
Mrs. Compton halted and gazed at him in disdain. “In a wagon full of potatoes, young man?”
“It’s nearly empty.” Daniel opened the door wider, releasing the scent of wilting greens and dusty root vegetables. He motioned to a bench that ran the length of the van, a few boxes and bags of produce stacked on the other side. “I’m happy to drive you. Be a boon for me to have two lovely ladies in the back of me wagon.”
“I hardly want to be seen climbing into and out of a produce van,” Mrs. Compton said huffily. “At my time of life.”
“Oh, that time’s not so very great, ma’am. And it is raining powerful hard.”
Daniel did not exaggerate. My coat was already soaked, and my hat would need much drying and reshaping after this deluge.
Whether Mrs. Compton feared the rain more than someone seeing her in a delivery van, or Daniel had charmed her with his compliments, she at last conceded that sitting inside would be more