As a learner driver, he had not fully mastered the art of driving and talking. For a while, that worked – until we reached the turnoff to Pannal where I had visited Miss Weston earlier in the day, bearing chocolates and the news that she may never see her uncle’s watch chain again. Just as I considered a detour to reclaim the chocolates, Sykes, unfortunately, found his tongue. He returned to his theme. ‘Meriel Jamieson is a thief, Mrs Shackleton. We can’t let her get away with it.’ With an air of great patience, he began to explain why. ‘This isn’t like searching for missing persons, where no crime has been committed. Miss Jamieson attacked Mr Moony. And don’t let her kid on it was spur of the moment, otherwise why did she go in disguise, dressed as a man?’ ‘It could have been spur of the moment. Don’t think I’m defending her actions. But all her life, Meriel has waited for someone to give her the opportunity to prove her ability. Last night, that happened. A theatre producer is going to give her a job.’ Sykes made one of his dismissive noises.
