“Yes,” called a male voice.
Saffron straightened and followed the young man as he opened the door and stepped inside.
The room had clearly been made over from a bedroom. The rosy walls and delicate moldings along the ceiling and along the mantle of the fireplace made it clear it had been a feminine space.
The man sitting at a desk in the center of the room matched it, strangely enough. His face was as round as his spectacles, his skin smooth and unwrinkled. His light brown hair was shining with pomade, and his full lips were topped with a mustache a bit more gingery than the rest of his hair. Dr. Jonathon F. Calderbrook was a phytopathologist, just like Thomas Everleigh had been. He was forty-two, unmarried, and lived at Number 28 in a set of private rooms, Nick had explained to her once he’d secured her this interview. This was not his personal bedroom, of course; the large desk and masses of filing cabinets along the walls made that clear, in spite of the pink floral wallpaper and fussy lace curtains.
“Miss Everleigh, sir,” said the young man.
“Thank you, Joseph.” Dr. Calderbrook got to his feet and smoothed a hand over his green tie. “How do you do, Miss Everleigh?”
Saffron came forward and offered her hand. “How do you do?”
“Have a seat, if you please.” They both sat, and Joseph left, closing the door behind him. Dr. Calderbrook looked at her for a long moment before saying in quick, precise tones, “I was … surprised tosee your application for the assistant position. You studied botany at UCL, and you work there now. You are aware that the position for which you’ve applied is in horticulture?”
“I am,” Saffron said. “But I’m of a mind to switch fields.” It displeased her to say it, and she worried for the moment her words would no doubt trickle down the grapevine to Dr. Aster’s ears. She’d written a proposal for Dr. Aster detailing all the reasons why she needed to stay off-campus in order to explore resources for her study for the next several weeks. He had accepted it but without any enthusiasm. It was a weak excuse for her absence, but she had to hope it gave her enough time to find the information Nick needed.
To her surprise, Dr. Calderbrook’s lips twitched. She realized she’d made a pun and allowed herself to smile. “I love botany, of course, but I recently attended the International Botanical Conference in Paris—”
Dr. Calderbrook looked taken aback. “Did you?”
“Yes. I attended the conference and saw just how urgent the need for horticulturalists and agriculturalists is, especially following the war, and decided it was time to make a change. I’ve worked as a research assistant before. I can learn the specifics of horticulture as I go.”
The director shifted in his seat, easing forward and then back, his eyes flicking to her, then to the paper on his desk. “I am aware …” He cleared his throat. “Your father was Thomas Everleigh. He was a friend of mine, a colleague, though we never worked together officially.”
“I didn’t know that, sir,” she lied.
“Yes, well, he was a good sort of fellow and I liked him very much. Tried to get him to come to my lab up at Kew, you know.” His smile was brief and nervous. “I didn’t know he had a daughter in the same field. I see Dr. Aster once a month, you see. We get together with a few colleagues for supper. One would think he’d mention Thomas Everleigh’s daughter working for him.”
Saffron didn’t reply, merely kept her pleasant expression frozen on her face. She was all but certain to be found out by Aster now. But hopefully, this would be cleared up before they next met.
“I do need a horticulture assistant, and if I’m honest, rather desperately. We have several experiments going that will put us ages behind if we do not have the bodies to run them. I feel as if Fate has placed you in my lap!” He let out a laugh, then seemed to choke on it. “Oh, goodness, do excuse me. I simply mean it is a relief to have an Everleigh show up just now.”
Saffron mashed down her annoyance. She didn’t mind that Dr. Calderbrook had misspoken; she minded that he, like so many others, would reduce her to her surname, rather than the fact she had a degree and was already working as a researcher at a prestigious university. But she smiled brightly regardless. She wasn’t there for an actual position, just the appearance of one. “It does rather seem that way.”
“Very good.” He got to his feet, extending his hand, and Saffron shook it. “Welcome to the Harpenden Phytopathological Service.”
CHAPTER25
Joseph reappeared and, at Dr. Calderbrook’s instruction, gave her a tour of the place. He was quiet, borderline rude, in the gruff way he pointed out rooms and features and tersely responded to her questions. He also did not provide her another name by which to call him, so she simply called him Joseph when necessary, and he didn’t correct her.
The rest of the first floor contained the offices dedicated to the seed catalog and the mail, which Joseph described as “a hefty pile on the daily.” The ground floor was made up of the laboratory, a sitting room, a library, a lavatory, and a kitchen and scullery from which a kitchen maid provided a simple lunch each day.
The second floor, he mentioned as he led her into another wing, was off-limits to the regular staff.
“Why?” Saffron asked him.
“Director’s rooms,” Joseph replied.
It was good to know Nick hadn’t been wrong. “Where do the other staff members live? Here in town?”
“Some are in Harpenden,” he said, opening a door for her and standing dutifully to the side as she passed into a long corridor of more worn hardwood floors. There was no carpet here, and their steps echoed as he led her down the hall. “Some are up from London every day.”
“I’ll be coming up from London,” she said. “And you?”
He shrugged and pointed to an open door. “Mycology.”
“Joseph!” barked a man from within. “Get in here.”
