Chapter One
My mother had never been one to break down in the face of adversity. To me she always seemed to have an unflappable resolve to make the best of any situation and move on accordingly. So it was with some alarm that I registered the strain in her voice when she telephoned from France to ask for my help. Apparently she was about to be arrested.
"Arrested? Mother, whatever have you done?"
"Absolutely nothing, it's all just a terrible misunderstanding, Ella. You see my friend Colonel Summerfield has gone missing and Perret the detective in charge seems to think I have something to do with it. I haven't of course, but he's terribly bullish and quite sinister and I can't seem to make him listen."
"But why does he think you're involved?"
"Because I reported Edward missing and was the last person to see him before he vanished. Of course that means nothing but my concern is if Perret is focusing on me then he's not looking for the real reason Edward has disappeared."
"I assume this is unusual behaviour for the Colonel? He's not just gone away for a few days and forgotten to tell you?"
"No it's not like him at all, Ella. If he had something planned then he would have told me. It's been two days now and I'm really quite worried about him. Do you think you can come and help?"
"Yes of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Thank you, darling, it will be lovely to see you even under these worrying circumstances."
"One other thing, Mother, have you told Detective Perret what my occupation is?"
There was no response and a click on the line told me our connection had been lost. I decided not to waste time trying to put another call through, I had no idea how long it would take me to get to France and from what mother had intimated speed was of the essence. I did put a call through to my aunt however, as my mother's sister it was only right I kept her informed. I also had a sneaking suspicion that once she knew the nature of my call she would insist on accompanying me.
***
"Elspeth arrested? I've never heard anything so preposterous in my life," Aunt Margaret said when I had told her the news. "What is this Perret's reasoning did Elspeth say?"
"Only that she was the one to report the colonel missing and was the last to see him."
"Well, he obviously doesn't have a shred of evidence and is just grasping at straws."
These were my thoughts too but it wouldn't be the first time a person had been arrested in error, and given the fact my mother was a foreigner and practically alone in a strange country, as well as having limited knowledge of the criminal laws and procedures, I was becoming increasingly anxious.
"So what happened exactly, Ella? Where were they when the colonel vanished?"
"I don't know, Aunt Margaret, I'm afraid we were cut off before I had chance to question her in detail. But she sounded worried, and not just for the colonel. I need to get there as soon as possible."
"Well, you're not going alone, dear, I shall accompany you. And what's more I think Pierre should come too, he'll be extremely valuable should things become difficult."
Pierre DuPont was a dear friend of my aunt's whom I had met on my previous case. An internationally renowned artist, I had originally thought him to be French until he lapsed into a Cockney accent. I was then informed he was indeed originally a Londoner and a master forger to boot. He was an exceptional mimic and would have been at home on either the stage or announcing the news on the wireless. He was also a dwarf and delightfully eccentric in his dress. But one thing he was not was French.
"Do you think so, aunt? He's not actually French and although I certainly couldn't tell the difference, I'm sure the people of France would recognise an interloper when they heard one."
My aunt chuckled. "You'd be surprised, Ella. Pierre lived in France for a number of years, in fact he studied at the École des Beaux-Arts, one of the most influential art schools in Paris, and by the time he left there was hardly a soul who realised he wasn't a native."
"Why am I not surprised? Well I'd be very glad to have him along in that case, I'm already feeling out of my depth and I haven't even left home yet."
"Don't worry, darling, as your mother said it's probably all just a silly misunderstanding. We'll get to the bottom of the mystery soon enough I'm sure. In fact I wouldn't be at all surprised if the colonel is already back and enjoying a cocktail on the terrace as we speak. Now you do have a passport, don't you?"
"Yes," I said, trying to remember where I had put it when I'd moved to my cottage on Linhay Island several months ago.
"Jolly good. Well, leave all the arrangements to me. I'll telephone you shortly with instructions. I expect they will send a chauffeur to pick you up from Waterloo; it's all part of the service."
I smiled, grateful the logistics of travel would be made by someone else, for I'd never travelled abroad and it would have taken me far longer. Replacing the telephone receiver on its cradle, I had only managed to take one step away when it rang again.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Ella."
It was my brother.
"Jerry, what a lovely surprise, how are you? How was your trip to Scotland? How is Ginny?"
"Goodness, let a chap take a breath, Ella," Jerry replied, laughing. "Scotland was terrific and the castle was absolutely splendid, a writer's dream in fact. I've filled a couple of notebooks with ideas for the next book and can't wait to get started."
"That's wonderful news, Jerry, but I hope you didn't leave Ginny alone too much? I know she wasn't feeling terribly well when you went to Scotland. How is she now?"
"Actually she's resting at the moment, still quite green around the gills but..."
"Have you taken her to the doctor? She really must see someone you know, this has been going on for far too long."
"Well that's why I'm calling..."
"Oh, Jerry, it's nothing serious, is it? I couldn't stand it if it were."
"Ella, if you stop interrupting I'll tell you."
"Sorry, you're quite right, carry on," I said, taking a deep breath in preparation for the news.
"Isobella Bridges, I'm very pleased to announce you are going to be an aunt."
Except for the one time when we were children and Jerry put a live frog down the back of my swimsuit, I can honestly say I have never squealed in a hysterical and embarrassing fashion. Until, that is, Jerry told me his news.
I could hear him on the other end of the line, laughing. "Good grief, let me move the telephone to the other ear. That one has gone quite deaf."
I laughed along with him. After the emotional trauma I had experienced recently this wholly unexpected but wonderful news was uplifting.
"Oh, Jerry, I am so very happy for you both and terribly excited to be an aunt. You must be absolutely thrilled.
"I'll say! Although I'm not sure it's really sunk in properly yet. I daresay I'll be a lot more nervous when the time comes."
"And when will that be?"
"Around Christmas time according to the doctor."
"Oh, Jerry, a Christmas baby. How perfect. Have you told anyone else yet?"
"I tried to get through to mother before I telephoned you but no dice. Have you heard from her at all?"
"Oh gosh, yes I have, listen to this..."
I quickly brought Jerry up to date with the news from France and told him I was going over there to assist. He was flabbergasted and I knew he would be torn between staying with his expectant wife and coming with me.
"Jerry, there's no need for you to come, you'll be better off staying at home where you're needed. And to be perfectly honest, darling, you'll not really be of much use as you'll no doubt spend most of your time worrying about leaving Ginny. Aunt Margaret and a friend of hers are accompanying me and I promise I'll keep you up to date with everything."
"Yes, you're right. I am loath to leave Ginny just now, but you must keep me informed. Day or night, just make sure you telephone or send a wire to let me know what's happening."
"Of course, and the news about the baby will cheer mother up no end. If you haven't managed to speak with her before I arrive, can I tell her the good news?"
"Naturally, but if I can't get through on the telephone I'll send a telegram to the hotel, so I expect she'll know by then."
"All right. Well, I must begin packing and I'm waiting for Aunt Margaret to call me back with details. Congratulations to you both again, it really is wonderful news. Tell Ginny I will be along to see her as soon as I return. Goodbye, Jerry."
"Cheerio, old stick. Keep in touch."
I quickly left a message for Sergeant Baxter, my colleague at Scotland Yard, to inform him I would be away for the foreseeable future, and then went to wrestle with my luggage.
***
Half way through my task I was interrupted by my part-time cook and housekeeper Mrs Parsons.
"'eavens, Miss Bridges, have we been burgled?" she said in horror, taking in the scenes of chaos around her.
"Not exactly, Mrs Parsons, although I'll forgive you for thinking so. I'm afraid I got a little carried away choosing what to pack."
"Well, you'll certainly not be needing this, Miss Bridges," she said, picking up a wool suit in shades of soft green. "It'll be a lot 'otter in France than here, you know. You'll keel over in the street of heatstroke if you wear this."
"Don't worry, Mrs Parsons, I wasn't planning on packing my winter wear. But I'm not sure how I will be travelling to France as yet. I'm waiting for my aunt to call back."
"Oh that's the reason I came up. Your aunt just rang..."
"I didn't hear the telephone.”
"I was just passing the hall table when it went, only rang the once. Anyway I took down all the details," she said, rummaging in her apron pocket and handing me a sheet of paper. "I'll get on with your packing while you read the instructions."
I moved to the window seat while Mrs Parsons deftly sorted through my garments and returned the non-suitable items to my wardrobe. The further down my aunt's instructions I read the more my stomach started to tie itself in knots; a combination of nervous excitement and a little trepidation.
"Oh my word," I said breathlessly as I reached the end.
"I thought you'd be surprised," said Mrs Parsons, gently layering tissue paper between the folds of a satin evening dress. "Fancy hurtling yourself through the sky in nothing more than a fancy sardine tin! It's unnatural, that's what it is, not to mention dangerous. I mean how on earth does a thing that 'eavy stay up there, that's what I'd like to know? Rather you than me that's all I can say."
"Well, thank you for your insight, Mrs Parsons, most helpful," I said with a touch of sarcasm which my housekeeper missed completely.
"Don't mention it, Miss Bridges, it's my pleasure."
I smiled to myself. Mrs Parsons really was a dear old stick, missing a little on the tact front admittedly but she didn't have a malicious bone in her body. She was also doing me a huge favour. With the recent departure of my previous housekeeper, who it turned out wasn't a housekeeper at all, Mrs Parsons had stepped in to provide her services part-time and had also agreed to find me several new employees for the house, as well as help for her youngest son Tom who was my gardener. I would miss her when she left but no doubt I would see her around the village.
"Well, I suppose we had better get on. I'll need to set off quite early in the morning if I'm to get to Croydon Aerodrome in time for the noon flight. Now where on earth did I put my passport…?"
Chapter Two
As my chauffeur turned onto Purley Way, I glanced out of the window and could make out in the distance the new Lido with its distinctive modern service building, blindingly white in the day's sunshine. Gently swaying palm trees, which I knew to be planted in man-made shingle beaches, added to the overall feel of a continental holiday, and as I watched I caught the sounds of laughter and merriment carried on the slight breeze through my open window. Set in four and a half acres of velvety lawned parkland, it had been opened in a furore of excitement the previous year and hailed a masterpiece of science and skill. As yet I had never managed to visit but having now seen it, I made a mental note to do so at the earliest opportunity, it looked like terrific fun.
Out of the other window and directly across the road from the Lido, I was mesmerised by the sight of several large metal aircraft awaiting their passengers, and was jolly relieved to note they looked nothing like sardine tins.
"Here we are then, Miss," my driver said, coming to a halt in front of the grand administration building. As I alighted, Aunt Margaret and Pierre approached; they had obviously been looking out for me.
"Ella, darling, perfect timing," Aunt Margaret said giving me hug as Pierre bestowed a lavish tip on my driver with which he was delighted, and organised a porter to deal with my luggage.
"Bonjour, Pierre," I said, leaning down and giving the small man a kiss on both cheeks. As per usual he was dressed in his trademark flamboyant style. This time he wore a lightweight cotton safari suit dyed to a glorious shade of turquoise with an equally vibrant raspberry shirt. Around his neck he'd tied a cravat in complimentary colours and perched on his head was a favourite fez with its gold tassel gently wafting in the breeze. By comparison I felt rather dowdy in my pale lemon sun-dress and matching jacket.
"Bonjour to you also, Ella, you look like a ray of sunshine today. Now what say we move inside? I believe it is time for cocktails, no?"
"Pierre, really," admonished my aunt. "It's barely time for elevenses. Besides I need to send a telegram to Elspeth to let her know of our arrival. I was unable to get through by telephone before we left."
Pierre shrugged. "Alas, I shall drink alone it seems."
"Poppycock," Aunt Margaret said in amusement when she saw I was wavering at Pierre's thoroughly dejected tone. "Don't let him fool you, Ella, he's already been waxing eloquent with a couple of his chums. He just wants the kudos of having a pretty girl on his arm."
"This is very true," he said nodding solemnly, while his eyes twinkled with merriment. "I have been rumbled. Well, adieu dear ladies, I will see you in a little while," and with a neat bow he sauntered in the direction of the lounge.
Aunt Margaret took my arm and, followed by the porter who was waiting patiently with my luggage trolley, we entered the booking hall. Officially opened only eight years previously, the hall was very stylish with a beautiful glass-domed roof which spilled light down into what would otherwise have been a dark interior, and an upper gallery where I saw patrons leaning on the geometric patterned railings.
Navigating our way passed the crowd at the newsagent’s booth purchasing newspapers, magazines, postcards and cigarettes, we were surprised to hear a voice hailing my aunt.
"Margaret, is that you? Well, I never, it is. Fancy seeing you here of all places."
The owner of the voice was a very attractive, impeccably dressed woman with auburn hair and deep brown eyes, the twinkle in which immediately reminded me of my aunt.
"Emily, good heavens, how are you? It must be ten years since I saw you last. Ella, this is Lady Ambrose. Emily, this is my niece, Isobella Bridges."
"Elspeth's girl? Gracious, I wouldn't have recognised you, dear. The last time I saw you, you had only just begun to walk."
She paused for a moment, then burst into gleeful laughter. "My, that was an idiotic thing to say, wasn't it? I should jolly well hope you'd changed since you were two."
"I'd certainly like to think so, Lady Ambrose," I said.
"Please call me Emily. Lady Ambrose makes me sound like my mother-in-law. So how is your mother? It's been a long time since I saw her."
"She's well, thank you. As a matter of fact that's why we are here. She lives in France now and I'm long overdue a visit. Are you headed there yourself?"
"I believe the French Riviera will be much too tame for Emily," my aunt said.
"Indeed," agreed Lady Ambrose. "I am an adventuress, Ella. It's Kenya and the African Savannah for me this time. Last year it was the pandas in China and before that, yaks in Tibet."
"Emily is a professional wildlife photographer, Ella, one of only three women in the world."
"And when I first started there was only me and it was an uphill struggle to be taken seriously. Eventually my work spoke for itself but I never forget how difficult it was. We women are just as good as men in many roles and thankfully things are changing for the better. Whatever it is you want to do, Isobella, then I highly recommend you going out and doing it."
At that moment we were approached by a young girl carrying a canvas bag and with a camera around her neck.
"Excuse me, Lady Ambrose, it's time to leave."
"Thank you, Cecily, I'll be just a moment."
"Ella already has a rather unique position, Emily," Aunt Margaret informed her as the young girl left.
"Oh do tell."
I told her.
She raised an eyebrow and said; "Now that is quite an achievement; well done, my dear. A chip off the old block eh, Margaret?" and winked at my aunt in a rather knowing way. My aunt smirked but said nothing. "Well toodle-pip, darlings, it's been lovely to catch up, albeit briefly. But I'll send an invitation when I return. I'd love you both to come and stay at Ferndale."
"What a fascinating woman," I said as we watched her retreating back.
"Isn't she just, and very kind and generous too. No doubt there will be an invitation through the door in the coming weeks. It will be lovely to see Ferndale again."
"Where is Ferndale?" I asked as we made our way to the telegraph office.
"Hereford. It's the Ambrose country seat, a great pile of Elizabethan splendour surrounded by acres of parkland designed by Capability Brown. You'll adore it, Ella. Ah, here we are. Now, let's send a message to your mother.
***
Having sent a telegram to Gardenia Villa, my mother's private home within the grounds of the White Hotel on Cap Ferrat, Aunt Margaret and I returned to the booking hall where we found Pierre perusing the newspapers.
"My beautiful travel companions return. Come along, ladies, I believe it is time to get weighed."
"Weighed?" I asked. "Whatever for?"
Pierre turned to me, "Ah, I forget this is your first time among the clouds, my dear Ella. We are to be weighed to ensure the aeroplane is not too heavy lest we find ourselves plummeting to earth like an Eagle diving for its prey."
"Pierre, really!" exclaimed Aunt Margaret. "Can't you see the girl is nervous enough? Ella, take no notice; it's a perfectly lovely experience, like having tea at the Ritz only up in the air."
Pierre patted my arm and looked suitably abashed. "I apologise, Ella. Your aunt is correct, there is nothing to concern yourself with; it is the height of luxury and a splendid way to travel."
I felt a small coil of alarm in my stomach. While Pierre had done his best to make light of his joke I still wasn't completely reassured. I was also surprised my aunt had noticed my fear. I thought I had done a rather good job of hiding my nervousness. I must practice my ‘devil-may-care’ attitude.
We moved back through the centre of the hall where I stopped to gaze at the time zone tower. It stood on a large octagonal base of polished wood, wide enough so that no amount of leaning forward could enable a person to reach the many clocks hanging on the central structure. It was fascinating to think that while it was late morning in London, on the opposite side of the world others were sleeping or perhaps just venturing out to dinner.
Far too soon I found myself at the scales where I was weighed and the numbers written in a small book by an officious looking clerk. We then proceeded to a long wooden counter where our passports were checked and our tickets issued together with a blue embarkation slip. I noticed a red label stuck to the front of my ticket and discovered it was my allocated seat. We were then escorted along a corridor to a door through which we found ourselves once more in the glorious sunshine.
Walking across the grass to the aircraft I was gripped by an odd feeling: the nearer it came the smaller it looked. Glancing at the number of my fellow passengers, not to mention the pilot and the staff as well as all our luggage, I was beginning to wonder how on earth we would all fit. Suddenly Mrs Parsons' sardine tin comment seemed uncannily apt.
I was handed up the three wooden steps into the aeroplane by a member of staff in his distinctive blue and white uniform with a Silver Wings pin affixed to his lapel, and glanced behind to see if Pierre needed my help, but he had managed, if somewhat awkwardly, to navigate their height. It struck me then how difficult life must be for our diminutive friend. I was duly escorted by a smartly attired steward to a table with a pristine white tablecloth.
"Welcome aboard, Miss," he said. "My name is Wilson, and I shall be your steward on the flight.”
He asked if this was my first time on an aeroplane, and when I said it was, he pointed out a tray of boiled sweets. “I would recommend one of these, Miss, during ascent and descent. They help to equalise the pressure in the ear and the air pressure outside. Now, should you need anything at all just ring the service bell and I shall be pleased to assist."
I thanked him and shortly afterward my aunt and Pierre took their seats across from mine, both reaching for the sweets. I gazed around as the other passengers were getting settled and was gratified to note how similar it all was to a first class train carriage. From the crisp white curtains with their blue tie-backs, the plush comfortable seats upholstered in blue with white antimacassars, to the blue carpet running the length of the central gangway. There was even a selection of pictures on the walls depicting the various exotic destinations the airline flew to.
"How are you feeling, Ella?" my aunt asked.
"Actually I'm quite looking forward to the journey; it's much more civilised than I was expecting."
With a small jolt the aircraft began to make its way to the runway and Wilson arrived with the luncheon menus. So intent was I on perusing the offerings I barely registered we had come to a stop. Suddenly we were rushing forward at great speed, the momentum forcing me back into my seat, and seconds later we lifted into the air. I clutched at the table waiting for my stomach to catch up with the rest of me while the aeroplane tilted first left, then right, and eventually, much to my relief, levelled out. Wilson arrived with a carafe of water and took our orders and I took the opportunity to gaze at the vista below.
It was quite remarkable how quickly we had attained such a height and I felt a momentary giddiness at the reality of being so far above ground. I could see full grown trees no bigger than the shrubs in my garden and sheep the size of dandelion clocks. As we soared over the villages a great patchwork blanket of greens and yellows spread out, interspersed with rough tracks and hedges, and I spied several toy tractors working the fields. I thought at that moment, England had never looked more serene or beautiful.
Wilson arrived shortly after we began our journey over the channel and with nothing more interesting to see than a large body of water I turned my attention to the first course and in between mouthfuls asked my aunt how long the journey would take.
"The flight to Nice is approximately three hours, wouldn't you agree, Pierre?" Pierre nodded his assent. "Then it's a journey by road of no more than half an hour to the hotel."
"If we are lucky we may make it in time for afternoon tea," Pierre said.
I smiled. Only Pierre could think of afternoon tea while halfway through eating lunch. My aunt tutted, "This isn't a holiday, Pierre."
"Ah, my dear Maggie, of course I know this," Pierre said, patting her hand affectionately. "But there is very little we can do at the moment. We have answered the call of your sister as quickly as we could and we will, I am sure, solve this mystery of the missing colonel. I was only attempting to lighten things a little. There is no point worrying about that which at present we can do nothing about."
My aunt sighed and nodded. "Yes you're right of course. It's just the thoughts of poor Elspeth with the threat of a foreign prison hanging over her head. It's simply abominable."
"I'm sure it won't come to that, Aunt Margaret. It's ludicrous to think that on such a flimsy and tenuous link, a simple friendship between mother and the Colonel, the police would consider putting her in jail. I'm sure it's all just a silly misunderstanding. We'll sort it out once we get there."
"Thank you, dear," she said. But I noticed she barely touched the rest of the meal.
Sometime later, over coffee and some delicious French pastries, while Pierre was reading his newspaper and my aunt was taking a nap, I had the strangest sense of being watched. Looking toward the far end of the cabin I met the eye of a gentleman who, even though I had caught him out, continued to stare at me in the most uncomfortable way. I frowned and looked away but my curiosity was piqued and I looked back to find he was slowly walking in my direction, still boldly glaring at me.
As the strange man continued to advance, Wilson came to clear away the luncheon. With his arms laden he turned back towards the galley kitchen and I looked up to find the man passing my table, still staring. As he moved past me I glanced at my companions but they were blissfully unaware. Quickly I peered behind and found the man had completely disappeared, but Wilson had stopped in the gangway, his arms still carrying the remainder of our lunch, and was talking to a passenger at the next table. In the narrow space there was no way anyone could have passed the steward and there was no sign of him beyond. I checked the other tables but no one resembled the stranger; he had literally disappeared into thin air. My heart pounded at the thought I had seen an apparition. It was a gift and one I had come to accept, but with no knowledge of what the colonel looked like I automatically assumed the worst; that no matter how quickly we had rallied to my mother's aid we were already too late.