‘To pay you back? To make you feel guilty.’

René nodded.

‘Look, all of you. Calm down. I’m sure this is going to be all right. I want to see you with clean teeth when Dorcas and I get back up here. We’re just going down to the kitchen to have a word with René’s mother and see what she has to say. I think it’s most probable that young Marius is, even as we speak, being tucked in and spoiled rotten by his grandma. But I like to be certain.’

‘It’s dinner time, sir,’ René pointed out, his face creasing with anxiety. ‘Maman doesn’t let anyone into the kitchen at dinner time and guests never at all. She’ll be cross!’

‘Don’t worry! She’ll let me in. I shall know exactly what to say to her. And I tell no tales!’

Reassured by his calm and friendly voice, the children began to nod and smile and hunt about for their sponge bags. Normality returned.

‘Sorry I bothered you, Joe,’ said Dorcas as they made their way downstairs. ‘There are things I don’t understand yet about this set-up. I should have pressed him a bit harder and got the truth out of him. Do we have to disturb Madame Dalbert? She’s a bit of a dragon, according to René.’

‘And the steward! And me!’ said Joe lightly. ‘But come and take a look.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Dorcas reluctantly. ‘But—tell you what—let’s not make an entrance through the great hall. There’s a side door into the kitchen that they use for supplies. It leads in from the courtyard. The boys use it when they want to see their mother.’

Amongst dashing servers and hurrying kitchen hands they had difficulty in picking out the small figure of Madame Dalbert. Dorcas crept in behind on Joe’s heels, apparently wishing herself a million miles away from this bustling scene. The cook stood rigidly watching him approach, confounded by his presence in this place at this time.

Joe plunged straight in: ‘Madame, my apologies. I’m here to ask if you know where your son is at this moment.’ He reached behind and pulled Dorcas forward. ‘This here’s Monsieur Joliffe’s daughter and she’s just turned the castle upside down searching for him. Unsuccessfully. He’s disappeared. We can’t find him.’

Joe was alarmed to see Madame Dalbert turn pale and sink down on to a stool, clutching her bosom. He hurried to counter the effect of his bald statement: ‘I speak of the little one—Marius. There is some evidence that he got tired of the games and was heard to say he was going off home to stay with his grandmother. Is this likely, do you think?’

The cook found her voice again. ‘Oh, thank God for that! Ouf! You gave me quite a turn! Yes, of course it’s likely. Marius! He’s done it before. He knows the way home blindfold. Everyone in the village knows him. He’s always wandering about. He’ll be all right. Now—if you’d said René had gone off, I’d really have been worried!’ She got to her feet again and resumed her imperious stance. Back in control. ‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m sure it’s not necessary. Marius slipped in here to see me at about four o’clock. He was a bit grumpy. They quarrel a lot, the boys. I listened to him and gave him some bread and chocolate and a glass of milk and he cheered up. I told him he could go and see his granny if he wanted to. It’s hard for him being the youngest and sometimes it’s best for him to have some time to himself. No harm done. But thank you, sir … miss … for thinking of warning me. And miss—’ she turned now towards Dorcas with a look that was very nearly tender, ‘thank you especially for paying attention to them. Little Marius talks about you all the time since you got here.’

She wiped a hand on her pinny and tentatively held it out to Dorcas.

In one of the uninhibited rushes of emotion Joe had come to recognize and dread in Dorcas, the girl ignored the extended hand, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the dusty little figure. They hugged each other in relief for a moment.

He walked back to the dormitory and distributed the illicit sweets he’d scooped up in the pantry as they passed through. ‘All’s well, chaps!’ he announced. ‘Marius’s mother was aware of the situation. Marius has indeed gone to ground at Gran’s. I’m giving my torch to Dorcas so if there’s any problem in the night, you’ll be able to shed some light on it. And I’m just across the corridor. See you all in the morning! Night night! Oh, just one word, Dorcas, if you wouldn’t mind …’

She responded to his raised eyebrows correctly and came to join him in the corridor.

‘Estelle,’ he whispered. ‘I’m very concerned for her. Would you mind awfully going into the women’s dorm and asking if she’s back yet? If not, see if you can find out where they think she might be.’ Dorcas groaned. ‘Yes, I would mind. Awfully. I’m not going in there! They’re all dressing for dinner—I’d be in the way. You’ve seen what they’re like. And they’re on their best behaviour when you’re around. They’ll rag me! Do I have to? … Oh, all right then … but if I have to kill one of those Russian girls it’ll be all your fault.’

She went in, leaving the door open, and Joe skulked in some discomfort outside by the jamb. Judging by the noise, they were all still in there, quarrelling about stolen stockings and yelling at each other to be quiet in several languages. Dorcas ignored the cat calls and suggestions that she go straight back into the crèche and, cleverly, Joe thought, directed her question to the sensible Jane Makepeace.

‘Miss Makepeace, can you help me?’ he heard Dorcas say.

‘Not really a good time, darling. I’m a bit behind … Look, pass me that stocking from the radiator, will you?

‘I’m looking for Estelle. She’s disappeared,’ Dorcas persisted.

And Jane replied, ‘Well, this here’s her bed next to mine and, you see, she’s not in it or on it or in the vicinity of it. Can’t say I’ve seen her lately. Sorry, I’m not much help.’

‘No, you aren’t, are you?’ Cecily’s voice. ‘Dorcas has been moved up to the top table now—I think we should give her credit for a little grown-up understanding, don’t you? Listen, my dear—the truth is, Estelle doesn’t often sleep in her own bed. She wasn’t here last night either. She’s most probably spent the afternoon with one of the chaps and she’ll spend the night with him. If he has a room of his own. If he hasn’t they’ll find one somewhere without too much trouble. You could try her boyfriend Nathan—he’s got a room to himself in the north tower where he messes about with his chemistry set.’

A lazy Russian voice drawled: ‘Or, failing that, my darling, you could always ask your father.’

The response was a blend of titters and shocked protests.

‘You’d do better,’ Cecily went on, ‘to check your uncle—if that’s what he is. Oh, come on now! We all saw it! She was knocked sideways the moment he came in. Alley cat! She was on the prowl before he’d sat down to lunch! And I noticed—we all did—that she left the dining room on his arm last night. Wearing that little blue Worth number. She doesn’t put that on for cocoa in the dorm with us! And none of the men have the sense to resist her. No, that’s what I’d do—nip across the corridor and see what the Law’s got in its long arms.’

‘Cecily, you have a mind like a sewer!’ Jane Makepeace again. ‘Remind me to pass you the name of a good alienist in London. I really think you need the psychiatric equivalent of a flue-brush passed between your ears … or a good dose of liver salts. Why are you always so beastly to the girl? She means well.’

‘I can’t stand to breathe the same air as that tart!’ Cecily’s voice was vicious and uncontrolled. ‘She’s unhealthy! Goodness knows what we might catch from her!’

The room went silent, signalling that she’d gone too far.

The silence was broken by Dorcas. Stiff but polite, she spoke to the room: ‘A child is missing. Commander Sandilands is in the kitchens at this moment interviewing the cook about the disappearance of her son. But thank you all for your help and advice. You’ve told me more than you know.’