“Then stay here. I’ll hurry down and speak to Simon before Mrs. Hennessey comes to our door. Will that be all right? There’s nothing to fear from him, by the way. He’s traveled here from Somerset, and he’ll want to ask what my plans are.”

That seemed to reassure her. She dropped her headlong dash for her coat and hat, sitting down in the nearest chair as if her limbs suddenly refused to hold her upright any longer. I could see that touch of dizziness returning as she closed her eyes against it.

“You’re very kind. I don’t like to take advantage…” Her voice trailed away.

I went to the door, smiled at her, and then closed it behind me.

Simon was standing in the entry, a tall, handsome man with that air of confidence about him that had always marked him and my father, the Colonel. My mother told me once when I was young that it was the badge of command. Simon had served with my father, rising through the ranks to Regimental Sergeant-Major, and leaving the Army when the Colonel Sahib, as my mother and I called him behind his back, retired. He’d been a part of our lives since I could remember, and I trusted him implicitly. But how to explain that to my nervous guest? It was better to leave it that he was a member of my family.

He greeted me and then said apologetically, “We only received your telegram early this morning. Or I’d have met you at Victoria Station. Your mother has sent me to collect you. The Colonel is away.”

My father, though retired, was often summoned to give his opinion and offer his experience to the War Office. As was Simon. I never knew what they did, nor did my mother, but they would sometimes leave rather abruptly and return looking as if they hadn’t slept in days, telling us nothing about where they’d been or why. I did know that my father had once been sent to Scotland for a week, because he brought my mother a lovely brooch to make up for missing her birthday.