“An excellent idea,” Mr. Dorian said. “Lots of schooling ahead of you, though.”
Tommy nodded solemnly. “Do you remember our neighbor on Corfu? Mr. Papadopoulos?”
“I do,” Mr. Dorian said, and I could have sworn his shoulders stiffened at the mention of the man. He had never particularly taken to Mr. Papadopoulos, though I didn’t understand why.
“He said I should go to Cambridge if I want to be a scientist,” Tommy explained. “Because that is where Mr. Darwin went.”
“Did he now?” I said archly, for this was the first I had heard of this. Though my son had a seemingly insatiable interestin the animals and plants on Corfu, he had never discussed making a career out of it. And yet he had apparently come up with an entire educational plan with Mr. Papadopoulos.
Tommy frowned in thought. “But if I want to go to Cambridge, I would need to go to a school like Cleo is doing so she can go to Girton.” Then he turned to me. “Right, Mama?”
My heart vaulted to my throat, and I was unable to do more than a single short nod in response.
“Why don’t we move on?” Mr. Dorian stepped in. “I believe there is a mammoth skull around here somewhere.”
That immediately garnered Tommy’s attention, and he took Mr. Dorian’s offered hand. I followed a few steps behind them as my mind whirled.
Chapter 13
Ispent the rest of our visit in a kind of dull haze, moving from display to display, but barely able to focus. Mr. Dorian, however, was in fine form and provided an excellent audience for Tommy’s boundless enthusiasm. When we had finally finished, he suggested we visit a tearoom nearby.
We found a table tucked away in a corner, and as we took our seats, Tommy went up to the counter to view the cakes and pastries on display.
“Thank you for today,” I said. “You were very patient with him.”
He flashed me a crooked smile. “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Harper. I enjoy the boy’s company.” Then his gaze softened to concern. “I take it this was the first time he mentioned wanting to attend school in England.”
I gave him my profile. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
He let out a sigh. “Then would you at least like to hear about the latest developments in the case?”
I whipped my head back. “You would tell me?”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he remarked sardonically. “Butsince you are so determined to involve yourself, you should at least be informed.”
I leaned forward in my seat, unable to hide my excitement. “Well? What do you know?”
“They have ruled out a burglary gone wrong, as nothing of value appears to have been taken, even though the place is stuffed to the rafters with treasures.”
My stomach twisted a little. Though I hadn’t ever really thought a burglar had bashed Charles Pearson’s head in, it was another possibility that would have taken the suspicion firmly away from Delia. “So, they think it’s personal,” I said.
Mr. Dorian nodded. “They are looking into his background as we speak. And of course, that means …”
“Delia is still a possible suspect.”
“I’m afraid so.”
I swallowed hard. “What of Madame Fontaine? You spoke to her, didn’t you?”
But before he could respond, a young woman in an apron approached our table, followed swiftly by Tommy.
“Good afternoon,” she said with a sunny smile. “What can I get for you?”
“A large pot of tea for the lady and a coffee for myself,” Mr. Dorian said before addressing Tommy. “What have you decided on?”
“The Victoria sponge looked very good, Mama,” Tommy said, with pleading eyes.
I couldn’t help smiling at him. “All right. We will take a slice of that,” I told the girl.
