The Blind Side Read Free

listen to anyone.”
    â€œThen what’s the use of your staying?”
    Lucy Craddock jumped up.
    â€œOh!” she said, “I wish Ross was dead! ” She ran out of the room and out of the flat, as if the sound of her own words frightened her.

CHAPTER III
    â€œOh, dear!” said Lucy Craddock.
    She was all ready to start, her umbrella on her left wrist and the handle of her bag slipped over the umbrella handle in the special twist which she hoped would make it very difficult for a thief to snatch the bag whilst she was counting her luggage or tipping a porter. In her left hand she had the taxi fare all ready, and in her right she carried the little suitcase which contained everything she would need until she reached Marseilles.
    And now there was the telephone bell ringing, and she would have to put everything down and keep the taxi waiting and—Her pale eyes looked distressfully out of her round pale face.
    â€œOh dear! ” she said.
    She took up the receiver, and heard Lee Fenton say,
    â€œIs that you, Cousin Lucy?”
    But it couldn’t be Lee, because Lee must be on her way to South America by now. Quite against everyone’s advice, but then young people never took advice.
    She said in a small distracted voice, “Oh dear—who are you? I can’t stay—I’m just starting.”
    Lee Fenton, in the station call-box, giggled and frowned. No need to ask if it was Cousin Lucy at the other end of the line. And what a fuss she was in. Anyhow thank goodness she hadn’t started. She said firmly,
    â€œCousin Lucy, it’s Lee. Please don’t start till I’ve told you what I want.”
    Miss Lucy Craddock looked anxiously over her shoulder. The telephone was in the hall of the flat, a wall fixture, and if the kitchen door was open behind her she ought to be able to see the kitchen clock, and then she would know how much time she had to spare. But of course it wasn’t open. She had shut all the doors herself, the kitchen door and the bathroom door behind her, and the bedroom door and the sitting-room door on her left. Only the front door stood open, just as Rush had left it when he carried down her trunk, and her hat-box, and the big suitcase which had poor Mary’s initials on it but she hoped that wouldn’t matter because there was an extra large label with her own name in full—Lucy Craddock.
    She said in an agitated voice, “But, my dear—where are you? And I’m just starting—I really am.”
    â€œDarling, you always start half an hour too soon—you know you do. I’ll be as quick as lightning, but you must listen. Are you listening?”
    â€œYes—yes—But haven’t you sailed? I thought you were at sea—”
    â€œWell, thank goodness I’m not. Darling, it was a wash-out.”
    â€œA wash-out?”
    â€œAbsolutely. And I shall put it across Madeleine Deshenka next time I see her—only I don’t suppose I shall now, because from the way she talked you’d have thought she knew these Merville people in their cradles, and I only found out by accident two days before we were due to start that she’d picked them up in the Casino at Monte Carlo a couple of months ago, and all she really knew about them was that they’d made a packet.”
    Miss Lucy gave a horrified gasp.
    â€œOh, my dear—how dreadful! I always said—”
    Lee made a face at her end of the line.
    â€œDarling, I know you did. But this isn’t the moment to trample—it really isn’t.”
    â€œOh, Lee, you can’t go with people like that—not to South America—you really can’t!”
    â€œI’m not going. Anyhow it wasn’t them any longer—it was him . They had a row—darling, I can’t begin to tell you what a really first-class row it was—and then she walked out and took the little girl with her. And he seemed to think I was going to