Then came a cry for help. Miss Watt rang up at half past ten that morning. “Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Pearson wondered whether you could possibly come in to chambers right away. We have … ah … something of a situation here.” She sounded uncharacteristically flustered. “What on earth…? Can’t you tell me what’s going on?” “It’s a bit complicated. But if—” “Never mind. I’ll come. About an hour?” “Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. I’ve had to clear Mr. Pearsons schedule. He’ll be very relieved.” Daisy was rather annoyed. She was in the middle of drafting a proposal for an article about Hampton Court for Mr. Thorwald, her American editor. The result was always smoother if she did the whole thing in one sitting. If she drove into the City, she’d just have time to finish the section she was working on. It wasn’t raining, and now that she had seen Lincoln’s Inn she knew where she would be able to park the car. Perhaps Mr. Thorwald would be interested in an article on the Inns of Court, too, she thought.
