“I don’t know.” Aleida turned down a path shaded by graceful trees. “I remember because it was unusual. He walked on through to Beatrice’s office as if he worked there, but Nilima said he didn’t have an appointment and she hadn’t seen him before. She said Beatrice was annoyed with him. He hasn’t returned.”
“How curious.” Hugh shrugged. “But Beatrice and Bert and William and Cecil were the best of friends, and the best of friends do have rows.”
“With his temper, Mr. Ridley must cause many of those rows.” She shuddered. “I can see why you keep considering him a murder suspect, even though he has an alibi.”
“Yet you persist in saying I see only the good in people.” Hugh bumped her with his elbow, and dappled sunlight danced in his eyes.
Love and affection for him welled inside her. “I’m glad to learn you aren’t completely angelic but have failings like the rest of us mortals.”
Even though he laughed, regret twitched in his cheeks.
Did he feel he’d failed her? He hadn’t.
Hugh folded the pamphlet in half and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “Oh yes. This is for you.” He drew something from his pocket.
A small, flat elephant of gray wool felt, held together with large and uneven stitches, with a single button eye. “My sister Caroline made this for me.”
“Oh, Hugh. I couldn’t take it.”
“I’d forgotten about it.” He nudged his hand closer to her. “I found it in the debris and thought of you straightaway. It was good of you to give Theo his stuffed elephant, but now you have nothing to remember him by.”
“I have the photographs.”
Hugh ducked his head to the side. “You do. But I’d like you to have this. It won’t—it can’t—replace Oli or your son. But I hope it can help you remember.”
“Elephants never forget,” she whispered. She took the gift and held it to her heart. “Thank you, Hugh. I’ll treasure it always.”
“You’re welcome,” he said in a gruff voice, and he gestured down the path with suitcase in hand. “Shall we?”
Everything in her wanted to take his face in her hands and kiss him, to be rechtdoorzee and declare her love.
But everything in her also knew he wouldn’t welcome it.
Aleida moved her feet forward and raised a cheery smile.
With each day, with each act of kindness, she loved him more. Never before in her life had friendship seemed insufficient.
40
SATURDAY, MAY10, 1941
A full moon cast golden light on Hugh’s patent leather shoes as he strode up Regent Street in full evening dress.
Tonight would be crucial.
Most importantly, he’d help Aleida give voice to a cause she held dear. Through her nationwide appeal, perhaps good changes would come for the refugee children.
Hugh also intended to use the evening for romantic reconnaissance. Would Aleida be impressed with his finely tailored black tails and trousers, his crisp white tie and waistcoat? Would she let him twirl her around the dance floor? Would she melt in his embrace as she once had done?
He could no longer continue as mere friends. But if he told her of his love, he might destroy a friendship that meant a great deal to both of them.
Ahead of him, the door to the Hart and Swan swung open, and two men exited—Gil and MacLeod.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Hugh said.
Gil shined his torch at Hugh. “White tie? Where are you going?”
Hugh made a show of twirling his cane, doffing his top hat,and dipping a bow. “To the Dorchester Hotel to record a broadcast at a charity banquet.”
