Aunt Dimity Down Under

“. . . a bit late,” said Ruth. “We are no longer able to do . . .”

 

 

“. . . what needs to be done,” said Louise.

 

“We need your help,” they chorused.

 

“I’m yours to command,” I said promptly. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

 

The Pyms’ voices had been growing steadily weaker and their eyelids were beginning to flutter. I was afraid they would fade into sleep—or worse—without clarifying their request, but they roused themselves sufficiently to manage a few more sentences.

 

“Aubrey,” Ruth said. “Please . . .”

 

“ . . . find Aubrey,” said Louise. “Mother and Father will want to know . . .”

 

“. . . what happened to him,” Ruth said.

 

They raised their right hands simultaneously to point at the fireplace.

 

“Speak to Fortescue,” Ruth whispered. “He’ll explain . . .”

 

“. . . everything,” Louise concluded.

 

As their hands fell onto the coverlets, identical furrows appeared on their identical brows.

 

“Don’t worry,” I told them. “I’ll take care of it.”

 

Their brows smoothed, their bright eyes closed, and much to my relief, their thin chests rose and fell in the regular rhythm of sleep.

 

“Save your strength,” I murmured, looking from one gently wrinkled face to the other. “I’ll speak to Fortescue. And I’ll find Aubrey for you.”

 

It was a somewhat hollow boast since I had no idea who Fortescue was and I’d never heard of Aubrey, but ignorance had never kept me from taking action. I returned the chair to the dressing table, then went to search the fireplace for clues that might tell me what to do next.

 

I found one immediately. A business card sat on the mantelshelf, propped against a charming porcelain tabby cat. Printed on the card in a flowery but legible script were the words:

 

Fortescue Makepeace, Solicitor

 

Number Twelve, Fanshaw Crescent

 

Upper Deeping

 

(01632) 45561

 

 

 

 

 

“The family solicitor? ” I murmured, pocketing the card. “I hope Mr. Makepeace knows who the heck Aubrey is.”

 

Even as I spoke, I thought of someone else who might be able to fill me in on the mysterious Aubrey, but to test my hunch, I would have to return to the cottage.

 

I tiptoed out of the bedroom and crept downstairs as noiselessly as I could. I found Kit and Nell sitting before the fire in the front parlor, sipping cups of hot cocoa. Nell’s flawless face was tranquil and Kit’s haggard expression had been replaced by one of pure contentment. I hated to intrude on the cozy scene, but I couldn’t leave without asking the obvious questions. I motioned for them to keep their seats as I stepped into the room.

 

“Have the Pyms ever mentioned the name Aubrey to you? ” I asked.

 

“No,” said Kit.

 

“Never,” said Nell.

 

“What about Fortescue Makepeace? ” I said.

 

“He’s the family solicitor,” said Kit, confirming my guess. “He popped in for a chat with Ruth and Louise shortly after the doctor left.”

 

“How are they?” asked Nell.

 

“Sleeping,” I said. “Which is what I should be doing. Good night, you two. Take care of Ruth and Louise—and each other.”

 

I left the nearly-weds to their vigil and drove away from the Pyms’ house, wishing I’d been a fly on the wall when the sisters had had their little chat with Fortescue Makepeace.

 

 

 

 

 

Four

 

 

The lights in the living room were still lit when I reached the cottage, and the fire was still crackling in the hearth. Bill and Willis, Sr., had waited up for me, though Willis, Sr., had exchanged his three-piece suit and immaculate leather shoes for neatly pressed pajamas, a paisley silk robe, and handmade Italian bedroom slippers. Stanley had apparently been keeping watch at the bay window for my return because he’d moved from Bill’s lap to the cushioned window seat, but he’d fallen asleep on duty, curled into a glossy black ball.

 

While I warmed my hands at the fire, Bill made a cup of chamomile tea to warm the rest of me. I drank it gratefully as I told him and Willis, Sr., about my extraordinary evening at the Pyms’. They were impressed but not surprised by the villagers’ spirited response to the tragic situation.

 

“Your neighbors have always rallied around one another in times of need,” said Willis, Sr. “I would have been shocked and dismayed if they’d neglected to do so under the present circumstances.”

 

“Ditto,” said Bill. “I’m particularly glad to hear that Nell’s there to look after Ruth and Louise. Nell’s as capable as any nurse-for-hire and she’s always had a special relationship with the Pyms.”

 

“The dear ladies are extremely fond of Eleanor,” Willis, Sr., concurred. He was the only person I knew who used Nell’s proper name. “I believe her presence will be highly beneficial to them, whatever the eventual outcome.”