Freya North - Chloe

‘There just didn’t seem to be a right time, ladies,’ she said. ‘I held it often; I sniffed at it and held it up to the light. Its contents just seem so, I don’t know – portentous .’

Approving Chloë’s vocabulary, Jasper allowed his eyebrow back down to earth.

‘I was,’ furthered Chloë, ‘all on my own. In Islington , after all.’

This secured a bow from Jasper and a long nod from Peregrine who said ‘Islington. Why, of course ’ very softly.

‘What say you,’ said Jasper cautiously, proffering Chloë the letter like a ring on a velvet cushion, ‘that we open it now? You’re in Notting Hill after all. With us. And the Andrewsiz. Looked over by You-know-who. Safe hands all.’

Chloë took the envelope and held it to her nose, her eyes on Jasper but seeing far beyond him.

Is it there? Is it Mitsuko? Do you know, I think so.

‘Mitsuko?’ asks Peregrine. Chloë nods. She turns the envelope over and wriggles her little finger into one corner. The rip, though a mere centimetre or so, is deafening. She takes her little finger to the other corner and winces as the tearing of paper screeches out.

‘Bugger,’ she mutters under her breath but unmistakably. ‘Would you ? For me?’

Jasper takes the envelope and slits it open with one deft movement. He passes it to Peregrine who slides the contents out with deliberation and grace. He offers them to Chloë but she must come forward to accept.

‘Go on,’ he whispers, ‘for us.’

‘For Jocelyn,’ says Jasper.

‘OK,’ says Chloë.

There are two pages. A letter, and a map of Wales that appears to have been filched from a road atlas. In black ballpoint pen, an arrow shoots inland and south, to a red asterisk marked ‘Here!’ Handing the map to Jasper, Chloë skims through the letter seeing the words without reading them, reading names without knowing where or who – or indeed whether a who or a where.

Peregrine’s chin is tucked over her shoulder. He smells faintly of chocolate gingers and Christmas.

‘Jasp!’ he says once he has read it right through. ‘Three guesses where she’s going!’ Jasper hands the map back to Chloë and closes his eyes with a measured twitch of his aquiline nose.

‘Three guesses,’ says Peregrine again, nudging Chloë with a wink.

‘And if I am correct in just one?’ Jasper asks, eyes still closed, nostrils slightly flared.

‘Oh Gracious Lordy, always a deal to be struck. Nothing’s ever unconditional with the old tart!’ Peregrine is pleasantly exasperated. ‘If you’re right in one, I’ll make it worth your while. There!’

Jasper opens his eyes and smiles – benevolently at Chloë, somewhat lasciviously at Peregrine.

‘Gin Trap. I bet my bottom dollar. It’ll be the Gin Trap.’

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