The Darkest Hour. Barbara Erskine
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Название: The Darkest Hour

Автор: Barbara Erskine

Издательство: HarperCollins

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isbn: 9780007513147

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СКАЧАТЬ sketchbook on the dresser. She grabbed it and opened it at a clean page. ‘Sit down. Here, under the lamp.’

      He sat down obediently, an elbow on the table, chin on hand, profile raised to the lamplight. ‘Will I do?’

      ‘You’ll do.’ Now suddenly she was trying not to laugh, her irritation evaporating. She couldn’t work out how she felt about this man. She had never met anyone like him before. His merry blue eyes, his sense of fun, his soft Scots accent, his stunning good looks and his cheeriness in the face of threat all intrigued her. Was he so stupid that he didn’t understand the danger all round him? Wasn’t he afraid? She knew Ralph was afraid. That was why he was so brave.

      Then she realised what it was that was different about Tony. Eddie and Ralph were men. Tony was still a boy.

      ‘Go to bed, Mummy!’ It was midnight. They had finished their soup ages ago and Rachel was still sitting over her book in the corner. For the hundredth time her eyes had closed and she was nodding closer and closer to the volume in her lap. She hadn’t turned a page in half an hour.

      Tony glanced over his shoulder quickly then resumed his pose. ‘I don’t need a chaperone, Mrs Lucas, honestly. I’m sure I could fight her off.’

      ‘Tony!’ Evie was squinting down at the page. ‘Stop wriggling.’

      He gave her a broad smile. ‘Can I look yet?’

      ‘Yes.’ She sighed and dropped the pencil. ‘Yes, you can look.’

      He stood up and walked round the table as with a groan Rachel closed her book and levered herself out of her chair. They both stood staring down at the sketch.

      ‘That’s brilliant!’ Tony exclaimed. ‘Almost as handsome as the real me. Not quite, that’s not possible, but it will do. When will you paint it?’

      Evie was staring up at him, blinking. ‘When will I paint it?’

      ‘Aye. Fill in the colours.’

      Just in time she saw the twinkle, the twitch of his mouth. Reaching over she slapped his hand. ‘I’ll paint you when I think you deserve it. Until then you have a finished pencil sketch by the soon to be famous Evelyn Lucas, which will one day probably be worth hundreds of pounds. Here. Take it with you and get back to the base. I’m sure you should have been in hours ago.’

      ‘Just like in school. You’re right.’ He nodded vigorously. ‘But I’ll show matron the picture then she’ll promise not to beat me with her slipper.’ He took the sheet of paper from her. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you up so late, Mrs Lucas, I really am.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘But it was worth it. I’ll send this to my parents and they will treasure it.’ For a second he was serious. ‘If anything happens to me –’ He paused and left the rest of the sentence unfinished.

      Evie walked with him to the door. The two dogs appeared from one of the sheds and she sent them back with a click of the fingers. By the light of the faint moonlight in the yard she could see a small open-topped car parked near the barn. He followed her gaze.

      ‘I borrowed it. Brilliant little runabout. 1927 Morris Cowley. Chap at the base wants six quid for her. If I buy her I’ll take you for a ride. If you’re good.’ He sighed. ‘So, I’d best be going. The last couple of mornings they’ve been calling us at four a.m. Thanks, Evie.’ He put his hands on her shoulders. Before she could turn away he had bent to kiss her lightly on the lips, then he was sprinting towards the car. She saw him pack the drawing away carefully then he made his way to the front and bent to the starting handle. The engine caught almost at once and he vaulted into the driving seat.

      The blacked out headlights barely gave him any light to see by at all as he reversed and turned before heading down the lane.

      She put her fingers to her mouth, staring after him. The touch of his lips had sent a shockwave through her system which had for a moment left her incapable of coherent thought.

       6

       Imagae Missing

      Friday 12th July

      ‘I thought you weren’t coming down this weekend.’ Dolly had opened the door to Mike with a duster still in her hand. It was four o’clock on Friday afternoon.

      ‘Charlotte had to cancel our trip abroad. She was summoned to some sort of conference she couldn’t get out of. It’s a shame but we’re rescheduling our break.’ Mike dropped his briefcase and holdall and looked round. ‘Is Lucy Standish here? I didn’t see her car in the lane. I thought this would be a good chance to talk to her and see how she is getting on.’

      Dolly frowned. ‘She couldn’t come today. There was some auction she had to go to, apparently.’

      ‘Ah.’ Mike couldn’t hide his disappointment. ‘So, what do you think of her so far?’

      ‘She seemed nice enough.’ Dolly was guarded. ‘All she did was rearrange the boxes and poke around in some of them.’

      ‘I don’t suppose she had time to do much.’

      Dolly sucked her teeth. ‘Maybe she saw enough to realise there is not much of value here.’

      Mike looked at her sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Just that you mustn’t forget that she is a dealer.’

      ‘You don’t believe she is writing a book? You think she had an ulterior motive?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ Dolly gave an expressive sigh. ‘She didn’t bring anything to write on, as far as I could see.’

      Mike studied her face for a moment. ‘Maybe I should ring her.’

      He waited until Dolly had gone home then pulled Lucy’s card out of his wallet and reached for his mobile as he wandered out into the garden.

      ‘I was sorry to miss seeing you,’ he said when she answered at last. ‘My housekeeper said you had to go to an auction today.’

      ‘Yes. Such a nuisance. There was nothing I could do.’ Lucy sounded flustered. She was in fact juggling her phone as she tried to unlock her car door, three carefully wrapped paintings one of which was quite large, under her arm. With relief she got the door open and slid the pictures behind the seat, dropping her bag into the footwell. ‘Sorry. That’s better. I hadn’t realised I would only be able to come on Tuesdays and Fridays. That is going to slow up my research quite a bit.’

      I don’t suppose you would have time to come over tomorrow?’ Mike was grinning to himself. So Dolly planned to keep an eye on everything personally. He had never said that Lucy couldn’t come on any other days. He grimaced. Was that naïve of him? Perhaps Dolly was right and he shouldn’t be so trusting. Before tomorrow he would do what he should have done in the first place when she first got in touch. He would do some research of his own on line and find out some more about Mrs Lucy Standish. He brought his attention back to what she was saying.

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