think they invented everything, the smart lot, do they? Always out in front of us provincials. ‘No, no, nobody at home has ever noticed my uncle Dave living with his pal the schoolteacher for the last fifteen years.’ Can I ask something?”
“If you like,” Will said with a little trepidation.
“Are you happy?”
That was a hell of a question. “Right now, not at all. In general? I...don’t know. I could be.”
“Only I didn’t think you were getting on with him very much.”
“Sometimes I don’t,” Will said. “When I do, though— It’s like the poem, honestly. When it’s good, it’s very, very good, and when it’s bad, it’s horrid.”
“He needs to work on the bad parts, then,” Maisie said with a snap. “You’re a good man, and you deserve to be happy.”
“I don’t know what that looks like,” Will said. “I mean I do, but not—not in this situation. I don’t know what I’m doing, Maise. I’m not sure he does either.”
“Then you need to talk about it, don’t you? With him, I mean, but you can to talk to me too, if you want. Talk to someone, instead of storming round kicking furniture.”
“Who says I did that?” Will demanded, uncomfortably aware of a chair in the bookshop that needed mending.
She grinned at him. “I can read you like a book, Will Darling. Daft ha’porth.”
He’d wanted to talk to her so much; more than he’d let himself realise, because he’d been so sure he couldn’t. He needed a moment to take this in. “God. Thanks, Maisie. Thank you.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “And to think I left home because I wanted excitement. That’ll teach me. How long have you known about Lord Waring?”
“Kim’s known for a while. I found out...God, it was this afternoon. Feels like about a month ago.”
“And he hasn’t spoken to Phoebe.”
“He knows he should.”
“Yes, he really should. I can see why he doesn’t want to, but it’s not fair.” Maisie’s mouth tightened briefly. “What happens now?”
“Lord knows. Waring talked about getting at you and Phoebe to punish me and Kim. I don’t suppose he’d physically hurt Phoebe but—”
“You can’t say the same for me,” she said, with impressive calm. “Can we just go?”
“Waring told Kim his car’s out of action. He said if we tried to leave the house there’d be consequences. I think we need to take that seriously.”
Maisie’s lips, normally a dusky pink, were rather pale. “I don’t like this, Will. If—if he isn’t even pretending to be nice any more—”
“I’m not leaving you alone. I’m staying with you, including in your room if that’s all right.”
“Yes, and never mind what my ma would say about it. Don’t tell her, though,” she added hastily.
“If they want to get at you, they’ll have to come through me. We’ll get out of this, Maise. It’ll be all right.” He hoped that was true.
“Will we? Where’s Kim? What’s he even doing now? He was putting away the booze—”
“He might be drunk and crying on Phoebe’s shoulder because Lord Waring was mean to him,” Will said. “But I wouldn’t put money on that, myself.”
Maisie looked at him. Then she went over to the chair where Kim had sat earlier, and felt the seat. “The side of the cushion’s wet and sticky. Like someone spilled a cocktail down it.”
“He’s pretty quick with his hands. I think he wanted them to assume he was giving in.”
“All right, I like him a bit more,” Maisie said. “What’s he up to, then?”
“Don’t ask me, I just work here. Look, I want to get my knife.”
“Your—”
“The big one.”
“You did not bring that to a house party.”
“No manners. Come up with me?”
Maisie nodded, but as she rose, the door opened and Kim and Phoebe entered. Kim seemed calm enough. Phoebe looked as close to furious as Will had seen, mouth tight and eyes stormy.
“Ah, Will,” Kim said. “Just the man. Can I have a word?”
“I need to get something from my room. Can I leave you two down here?” Will asked.
“You go,” Maisie said. “We’ll be fine.”
“Very much so,” Phoebe added rather sharply.
Will hurried upstairs, alongside Kim, straight to Will’s room. He looked into his bag and snorted. “Someone’s been through this, and they haven’t tried to hide it. All my things are turned up.”
“Shit,” Kim said. “They took the knife?”
“Don’t know.” Will reached under the bedside table, and found the Messer where he’d taped it earlier. “No, here we are.”
“Your suspicious nature is occasionally a very attractive quality. Did you speak to Maisie?”
“Told