By the Pricking of My Thumbs (Tommy & Tuppence 4)

After a scrappy lunch had beeo hastily cleared away, the dining-room table was strewn with railway time-tables, guide books, maps, and a few old diaries which Ttlppence had managed to disinter.

Some time in the last three years (not longer, She was sure) she had taken a railway journey, and looking out o'the carriage window, had noticed a house. But, what railway Journey?

Like most people at the present time, the Beresfords travelled mainly by car. The railway journeys they took were few and far between.

Scotland, of course, when they went to sta3 with their married daughter Deborah - but that was a night journey.

Penzance - summer holidays - got Tuppence khew that line by heart.

No, this had been a much more casual journey, With diligence and perseverance, Tuppence had made a meticulous list of all thepossible jotrneys, she had taken which might correspond to what she was looking for. On or two race meetings, a visit to Northumberlatd, two possille places in Wales, a christening, two weddings, a sale they hd attended, some puppies she had once delivered for a friend! who bred them and who had gone down with influenza. The meeting place had been an arid-looking country junction whose name she couldn't remember.

Tuppence sighed. It seemed as though Tommy's solution was the one she might have to adopt - Buy a kind of circular ticket and actually travel over the most likely stretches of railway line.

In a small notebook she had jotted down any snatches of extra memories - vague flashes - in case they might help.

A hat, for instance - Yes, a hat that she had thrown up on the rack. She had been wearing a hat - so - a wedding or the christening - certainly not puppies.

And - another flash - kicking offher shoes - because her feet hurt. Yes - that was de pounds ite - she had been actually looking at the House - and she had kicked off her shoes because her feet hurt.

So, then, it had definitely been a social function she had either been going to, or returning from - Returning from, of course - because of the painfulness of her feet from long standing about in her best shoes. And what kind of a hat?

Because that would help - a flowery hat - a summer wedding - or a velvet winter one?

Tuppence was busy jotting down details from the Railway timetables of different lines when Albert came in to ask what she wanted for supper - and what she wanted ordered in from the butcher and the grocer.

'I think I'm going to be away for the next few days,' said Tuppence. 'So you needn't order in anything. I'm going to take some railway journeys.'

'Will you be wanting some sandwiches?'

'I might. Get some ham or something.'

'Egg and cheese do you? Or there's a tin ofpdt in the larder - it's been there a long while, time it was eaten.' It was a somewhat sinister recommendation, but Tuppence said, 'All right. That'll do.' 'Want letters forwarded?'

'I don't even know where I'm going yet,' said Tuppence.

'I see,' said Albert. The comfortable thing about Albert was that he always accepted everything. Nothing ever had to be explained to him.

He went away and Tuppence settled down to her planning what she wanted was: a social engagement involving a hat and party shoes. Unfortunately the ones she had listed involved different.railway lines - One wedding on the Southern Railway, the other in East Anglia. The christening north of Bedford.

If she co.ul.d remember a little more about the scenery... She had beexa sttmg on the fight hand side of the train. What had she bee looking at before the canal - Woods? Trees?

Farmland? A distant village?

Straining her brain, she looked up with a frown - Albert had come back. How far she was at that moment from knowing that Albert standing there waiting for attention was neither more nor less than an answer to prayer 'Well, what is it now, Albert?' 'If it's that you're going to be away all day tomorrow ' 'And the day after as well, probably ' 'Would it be all fight for me to have the day off?.' 'Yes, of course.' 'It's Elizabeth - come out in spots she has. Milly thinks it's measles ' 'Oh dear.' Milly was Albert's wife and Elizabeth was the youngest of his children. 'So Milly wants you at home, of course.' Albert lived in a small neat house a street or two away.

'It's not that so much - She likes me out of the way when she's got her hands full - she doesn't want me messing things up - But it's the other kids - I could take 'em somewhere out of her way.' 'Of course. You're all in quarantine, I suppose.' 'Oh! well, best for 'em all to get it, and get it over. Charlie's had it, and so has Jean. Anyway, that'll be all right?' Tuppence assured him that it would be all right.

Something was stirring in the depths of her subconscious A happy anticipation - a recognition - Measles - Yes, measles.

Something to do with measles.

But why should the house by the canal have anything to do with measles?

Of course! Anthea. Anthea was Tuppence's god-daughter and Anthea's daughter Jane was at school - her first term - and it was Prize Giving and Anthea had rung up - her two younger children had come out in a measle rash and she had nobody in the house to help and Jane would be terribly disappointed if nobody came - Could Tuppence possibly? And Tuppence had said of course - She wasn't doing anything particular - she'd go down to the school and take Jane out and give her lunch and then go back to the sports and all the rest of it. There was a special school train.

Everything came back into her mind with astonishing clarity - even the dress she'd worn - a summer print of cornflowers!

She had seen the house on the return journey.

Going down there she had been absorbed in a magazine she had bought, but coming back she had had nothing to read, and she had looked out of the window until, exhausted by the activities of the day, and the pressure of her shoes, she had dropped off to sleep.

When she had woken up the train had been running beside a canal. It was partially wooded country, an occasional bridge, sometimes a twisting lane or minor road - a distant farm - no villages.

The train began to slow down, for no reason it would seem, except that a signal must be against it. It drew jerkily a halt by a bridge, a little hump-backed bridge which spanned the canal, a disused canal presumably. On the other side of the canal, close to the water, was the house - a house that Tuppence thought at once was one of the most attractive houses she had ever seen - a quiet, peaceful house, irradiated by the golden light of the late afternoon sun.

There was no human being to be seen - no dogs, or livestock.

Yet the green shutters were not fastened. The house must be lived in, but now, at this moment, it was empty.

'I must f'md out about that house,' Tuppence had thought.

'Someday I must come back here and look at it. It's the kind of house I'd like to live in.'

With a jerk the train lurched slowly forwards.

'I'll look out for the name o( the next station - so that I'll know where it is.' But there had been no appropriate station. It was the time when things were beginning tO happen to railways - small stations were closed, even pullet down, grass sprouted on the decayed platforms. For twenty ninutes- half an hour- the train ran on, but nothing identifiable v/as to be seen. Over fields, in the far distance, Tuppence once saff the spire of a church.

Then had come some factory complex - tall chimneys - a line of pre-fab houses, then opefcountry again.

Tuppence had thought to heOelf- That house was rather like a dream! Perhaps it was a dram - I don't suppose I'll e/er go and look for it - too difficult- Besides, rather a pity, perhaps Someday, maybe, I'll come ao'ross it by accident!

And so - she had forgotten 11 about it - until a picture hanging on a wall had reawakened a veiled memory.

And now, thanks to one word 0ttered unwittingly by Albert, the quest was ended.

Or, to speak correctly, a ques was beginning.

Tuppence sorted out three mPs, a guide-book, and various other accessories.