“Of course,” Joseph replied sheepishly.
“I also want to find a way to get a look at every fizzer in that dockyard’s boots, without anyone getting suspicious and having the chance to get rid of their pair.”
“That sounds slightly more challenging.”
“It does. Any bright ideas?”
Joseph took a short, unsatisfactory sip from the bottle in front of him as he stalled for time. “It won’t be easy. Look what happened with the warehouse.”
“That’s my worry. Let’s both give it some thought. See if we can’t come up with a plan to pull this off. Find that boot, find the killer.”
*
Susan had cooked the roast that had been promised by Ray when he’d extended the invitation. The four of them sat at a round table, Joseph and Dziko next to each other, Ray on Joseph’s other side, Susan with Dziko. Joseph assumed this was a ploy to ensure that if the conversation ever needed to be segregated on gender, it could be easily done.
Susan took the lead with most of the conversation. She probed both Dziko and Joseph about their lives, and their relationship. She asked how they had met, getting as much of their “love story”, as she called it, as the two of them felt comfortable sharing.
“And how have you found living in England?” Every person that Joseph had introduced Dziko to had asked that question at some point or another. He’d never found himself wanting to ask it. He could tell how Dziko found living in England within minutes of meeting her. The effortless way that she interacted with people around her. The way she remained composed and in control of her little slice of the universe. She was as comfortable here as he assumed she had been back home, or as she would be if they both upped and left and moved to Siberia in the morning.
“I love it,” Dziko replied. “It’s a wonderful place and certainly everything that I was told it would be when I was growing up.”
“That must be interesting. Living in another part of the Empire, as it was,” Susan nodded. “Growing up under the rule of a country you’ve never lived in. Did they make it out to be something special then? Is that what brought you here?”
“Well, my parents helped to convince me to come over here. There were of course many other reasons. I’m certain Father thought that England would be a great place for me though. And I like to think he’s right. I don’t regret it.”
“Are your family still back home?”
“They are, yes. My father works for the railway, and my mother is a nurse. We’ll see what happens in the next few years though. My country has a brand-new name, a new identity since I left it. That’s not something that’s easy to understand from where I am right now. I write to my family and they tell me what they see, but I wonder what it would be like to be there right now. To feel how it’s changing. Whether for the good or bad.”
“You might go back?” Joseph couldn’t help but notice that Susan’s smile slipped just for a second as if she couldn’t believe what she had heard. He knew Dziko would have noticed it too, but if she did, she didn’t let it reflect in her answer or demeanour.
“I have no plans to, no. Not for a long, long time. I need to make a life for myself here. And that’s what I am doing.”
“Well, I think it’s wonderful,” Susan’s smile snapped back into place. “I mean, I know I could never do what you’re doing. Move to a different place, a different culture. I’d be far too afraid of standing out. I mean, imagine, dear,” she looked to Ray. “Me living in a place like Nyasaland.”
“Is that what it’s still called?” Ray asked.
“Malawi these days,” Dziko said. “But I must admit, even I still find myself talking about it in the past tense too. It can take us a while to shake off who we once were.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like if dear old England decided to up and change its name. Get rid of the Queen and everything.” Susan laughed as she said it as if it were completely absurd.
“We still have the Queen,” Dziko replied.
“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Susan said, placing her hand on Dziko’s and squeezing. “It’s wonderful to see such traditions being kept intact. Makes me feel so hopeful for the future of the world, despite what might be happening out there at other times.”
“You’ll have to forgive Susan,” Ray said. “She becomes quite the optimist when she’s had a glass of wine.”
“Well, would you rather this than me sitting drooped down on the mother’s ruin, like some housewives do?” Susan said playfully to her husband. If he had meant it as a telling off, she hadn’t taken it as one.
“Mother’s ruin?” Dziko asked.
“Oh yes, dear. Gin. Frightful stuff. Or not. In the right hands.”
“Why do you call it that?”
“You know, I’m not sure. Perhaps one of our gentlemen police officers can shed a light on that?”
Joseph shook his head.
Ray sighed. “I think there was some palaver in the olden days about women drinking too much of it and neglecting their children. It got blamed for a lot, I believe. Madness, infertility, the works.”
“As I said, frightful stuff,” Susan giggled. “I do have a bottle gathering dust somewhere if you fancy a glass after we’ve finished. Or if you prefer something more sedate, a sherry perhaps?”
“I am at the mercy of our host, I believe.” She smiled at Joseph. A smile he knew from experience to be genuine. It helped him relax. So did the wine, which Ray topped up.
“Me and Joseph best finish this up, else we might be carrying the pair of you later then,” he explained as he did so.
“I hope you don’t mind me being forward, Dziko, but you said you want to build a life here. Is that children I hear in the future?” Susan ignored Ray again, keeping her focus firmly on her guest.
“Well, I think a job comes first,” Dziko began.
“Oh really? I say, that’s very empowered, isn’t it? I must say, I love this whole feminism thing. Love it. Women taking control is something that I can’t say is long overdue, because we’ve been doing it behind the scenes for a long time, but to have it out there in the open, now that’s something I think we can all agree is good for everyone.”
“Everyone?” Ray raised an eyebrow.
“What sort of job, dear?” Susan asked.
“Well, I worked in banking back home, as a clerk.”
