Page 38 of Disturbing the Dead
“It’s me,” Alice says. “Come to see if you need help with that dress.”
I check the pocket watch on my dresser. It’s a recent splurge purchase. No one else understands why a housemaid—or even a forensic scientist’s assistant—needs one. I can’t break my modern-day obsession with time. It doesn’t matter that there’s a clock downstairs, and I can hear the hourly chimes even up here. I need to know exactly what time it is whenever I want.
Right now, it’s almost five thirty. Normally Alice would just be starting her shift. Today, though, with the party, Isla and Gray would have been having a late breakfast. Even now that Isla requested it early, Mrs. Wallace would have had Lorna do Alice’s duties and allowed her to sleep in. That wouldn’t happen in a normal household, but things work differently here, where Alice straddles the line between parlormaid and ward.
I open the door. Alice nearly falls in. At twelve, she’s just topped five feet following a growth spurt. No matter how much she eats, she’s rail thin, with little sign of puberty. We don’t wear uniforms, but her work dress is a simple blue gown, white apron and cap.
She eyes me from top to bottom. “You are a mess. I will bring warm water and help you wash up.”
“Uh-huh.” I lean against the doorpost. “You’re up when you could have slept in. You’re offering to help me with my dress. Now you’re going to haul warm water all the way up here? You want something. Please don’t tell me there’s a problem with the new maid.”
“Her?” Alice sniffs. “She’s barely said two words. She seems very dull.”
“Dull is exactly what we need in a housemaid. Just like we need parlormaids who are sweet natured and helpful to their sisters in service, and offer to draw them baths for no reason at all. However, we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“If you don’t wish my assistance…”
“I want to know the conditions that come with it.”
“No conditions. I simply hoped for conversation. Unlike the new maid, you are very good at talking. I will help with your gown, and you will tell me all about your evening.”
“Ah, the truth comes out. You wish to hear about the lovely party, all the pretty dresses and delicious food and delightful music.”
She rolls her brown eyes. “I want to hear about the murder. Obviously.”
I’m opening my mouth to answer when Alice stiffens and turns to the hall.
“What do you want?” she snaps.
Lorna’s soft voice barely carries to me. “I came to see if Miss Mitchell needed help.”
“She does not.”
“Might I bring her a cup of tea? I heard she had a terrible night.”
“If she needs tea, I shall bring it. You should be tending to Dr. Gray and Detective McCreadie.”
Through narrowed eyes, Alice watches Lorna depart. I resist the urge to comment. Catriona had bullied Alice, and it took months—and a shared adventure—to convince her I was no longer that Catriona. She finally trusts me, and if she’s marking her territory with the new girl, then I won’t argue. I don’t have time to get to know Lorna right now anyway. That will need to come later.
To Alice, I say, “I would appreciate that bowl of hot water for washing. I need to have breakfast with Dr. Gray and Detective McCreadie.”
“Need or want?”
“Sometimes, it is the same thing.”
I’ve taken off the dress, which Alice moved down to the basement for spot cleaning. As I scrubbed up, I told Alice what we’d found. She made me go over the mummy unwrapping twice, grumbling that I was skimming over important parts. By skimming, she seems to mean “not providing sufficiently lurid detail.” She also wants to see the finger.
“I’ve never seen a mummy,” she says. “They had one at the museum, but you needed to be a scholar to see it.”
“Mrs. Ballantyne or Dr. Gray would have taken you.”
She shrugs and doesn’t answer. That would be a boundary she isn’t ready to cross. They are her employers, and when they are too kind, it makes her nervous. That is not the proper way of things.
“You say the children grew up in Egypt?” she says.
I smile at that. “Children? They are only a year or two younger than you.”
“If their father is a baronet, they are much younger than me. Like helpless kittens who would starve without someone to bring them their dinner.”
