The Blind Side Read Free Page B

and warm and beautifully clean, and I won’t let Ross so much as cross the threshold. If he tries anything on whilst you’re away, there’ll be murder done. I can’t say fairer than that—can I?”
    â€œMy dear—”
    â€œNow, darling, step on it, or you won’t catch that train! Listen! I’ll be at the barrier. Is it the Folkestone train—the seven-thirty-three? It is? All right, I’ll be there. You can bring the keys along and press them into my hand. And you’d better just murmur to Rush that I’m moving in. You needn’t bother about Peter—I’ll break the news myself.”
    Miss Lucy was heard to draw a breath that was almost a gasp.
    â€œOh, Lee—I don’t know if you ought—if I ought—so many people away, and no one on this floor except Ross and Peter—”
    â€œDarling, I’ve never had a chaperon in my life. Now hurry, hurry, hurry! And don’t forget the keys!”

CHAPTER IV
    Lee paid her taxi and ran up the steps of Craddock House. It was a very hot evening and the sun fell scorching on the steps and on her back. All the trains had been hot, and the station like an oven on baking-day. She thought lovingly about getting into a large cold bath and wallowing there.
    Rush came up out of the basement with a highly disapproving air. If he was really going to disapprove of her having Cousin Lucy’s flat, life wasn’t going to be worth living. She cast hastily about for a scapegoat—or goats. Since he disapproved of nearly everyone in the house, she led off with affectionate enquiries about the occupants of the other flats.
    By the time they had got her luggage upstairs she had managed most successfully to divert his attention from herself. Most of the flat-holders were holiday-making, and Rush didn’t hold with all these goings and comings.
    â€œWhat people want to go away for when they could stay ’ome and be comfortable beats me all to blazes. Not my place to call them silly fools, but nobody can stop me thinking it. There’s Lady Trent out of number six—where’s she gone? You’ve got something mortal ’eavy in this case, Miss Lee. Abroad, that’s where she is, and seventy-five if she’s a day and seventeen stone if she’s a hounce. Why can’t she sit quiet at ’ome and see her doctor if she wants company? And Connells out of number five—gone hiking they have—next to nothing on their backs and their knees showing in them shorts. Not my idea of what’s decent in a young married lady. And Potters away out of ten and eleven—seaside for the children. And number two’s away, and number three, and your aunt—”
    â€œCousin,” said Lee.
    Rush snorted.
    â€œAunt’s what she looks like! Sea-voyaging she’s gone, and sick she’ll be if what she’s like in the lift’s anything to go by. Twenty-five years she’s been going up and down in it and she’s never got over saying ‘Oh!’ and a-clasping of herself. Is it bricks you’ve got in ’ere may I ask, miss?”
    â€œBooks,” said Lee.
    Rush banged the case down at the foot of Miss Lucy’s bed.
    â€œThey’re pretty well all away,” he said. “Mr. Ross, he’s in number eight, and Mr. Peter Renshaw’s in number nine a-tearing up of your Aunt Mary’s papers.”
    Lee murmured “Cousin,” and got a baleful glare.
    â€œYour Aunt Mary’s papers,” said Rush firmly. “And Miss Bingham in number twelve, she come back yesterday. And number one’s here—Mr. Pyne, he don’t go away, not much he don’t.”
    â€œWell, that’s nice for you,” said Lee kindly.
    Rush straightened up. He was a sturdy, square old man with a close-cut grey beard and a bright, belligerent eye.
    â€œLook here, Miss Lee, I don’t want none of that,” he said. “What’s