The Safe House by Nicci French Read Free Book Online Page B

of a page of a newspaper and made some surprisingly deft movements with his large chafed fingers and, in a few seconds, perkily standing on the table was a something with two legs and a neck that could plausibly be described as a bird. Elsie gave a shriek of approbation. I was impressed as ever.
    ‘Why is it that men can always do these things?’ I asked. ‘I could never do origami.’
    ‘This isn’t bloody origami. It’s just a nervous habit for when I’ve got nothing better to do.’
    That was certainly true. Already, tiny paper creatures were infesting the house like moths. Elsie was collecting mem.
    ‘Now I want a puppy,’ she said.
    ‘Wait,’ said Danny.
    ‘Can we paint after lunch? I’ve finished anyway. I don’t like it. Can I have ice-cream for pudding?’
    ‘Have two more mouthfuls. We’re all going for a walk after lunch and…’
    ‘I don’t want to go for a walk!’ Elsie’s voice climbed up the scales. ‘I’m tired of going for walks. My legs are tired. I’ve got a cough.’ She coughed unconvincingly.
    ‘Not a walk,’ said Danny quickly. ‘An adventure. We’ll find shells and make a…’ Inspiration failed. ‘Shell-box,’ he said without much conviction.
    ‘Can I go on your shoulders on the adventure?’
    ‘If you walk the first bit.’
    ‘Thanks, Danny,’ I said as Elsie marched out of the room to find a bag for the shells. He shrugged and shovelled a forkful of meat into his mouth. We’d had a good night, and now we were having a reasonable day; no bickerings. He’d said nothing at all about his next job or about having to get back to London – he always spoke about London as if it were an appointment, not a city – nor had I asked him. We were getting on better. We had to talk, but not just yet. I stretched, pushed away my plate; tired, languid and comfortable.
    ‘It’ll do me good to get out of the house.’
    I never went for the walk because, as I was pulling Elsie’s red elephant boots on to her outstretched feet and she was shouting that I was hurting her, we heard a car draw up outside. I straightened up and peered out of the window. A tall stout man with a ruddy face on which he was already preparing a smile got out of the driver’s seat. Out of the passenger seat came Thelma, wearing an extraordinarily unbecoming track suit. I turned to Danny.
    ‘Maybe it would be nice for you and Elsie if you went off on your adventure alone.’
    His expression didn’t change, and he took hold of her hand and led her, ignoring her single squeal of protest, through the kitchen and out of the back door.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Miss Laschen…’
    ‘Dr Laschen.’
    ‘Sorry. Dr Laschen, I do assure you that I understand your reluctance, but this would be a very temporary arrangement. She needs to be in a safe place, anonymous and protected, with someone who understands her position, just for a short time.’
    Detective Inspector Baird gave a reassuring smile. He was so big that as he walked into my living room, ducking his head under the door-frame, leaning against the mantelpiece, he made the house seem frail, as if it were built of canvas flats like a stage set.
    ‘I have a daughter and a time-consuming job and…’
    ‘Dr Scott tells me your job at Stamford General is months away.’
    I shot a venomous glance at Thelma, who was sitting unconcernedly bang in the middle of the sofa, stroking Anatoly with great deliberation and apparently not listening to anything that was being said. She looked up.
    ‘Have you got anything to eat with this cup of tea apart from stale custard creams?’ she asked.
    ‘It’s not practical,’ I said.
    Detective Inspector Baird gulped tea. Thelma lifted her glasses away from the bridge of her nose, and I could see the deep red groove they’d made there. She rubbed her eyes. Neither of them said anything.
    ‘I’ve only just moved here. I wanted a few months off.’ My voice, too high with indignation, filled the quiet room. Shut up, I told myself;