Best Kept Secret

always suggest, start with the first.’ She took a copy of
William Warwick and the
Case of the Blind Witness
from the shelf.
    ‘Will the other one, the hereditary one, tell me more about the Clifton family?’
    ‘Yes, and you’ll find it as gripping as any novel,’ the assistant said as she walked over to the biography section. ‘That will be three shillings, madam,’ she said,
handing her both books.
    When Mrs Tibbet returned to the guest house just before lunch, Janice was surprised to see that her shopping basket was empty, and even more surprised when she locked herself into the office,
only coming out when a knock on the front door announced a prospective customer.
    It took her two days and two nights to read
The Hereditary Principle
by Reg Preston, by which time Mrs Tibbet realized she was going to have to visit another place she had never entered
before, and it would be far more nerve-racking than a bookshop.

    Sebastian came down to breakfast early on Monday morning, as he wanted to have a word with Bruno’s father before he left for work.
    ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said as he took a seat at the breakfast table.
    ‘Good morning, Sebastian,’ said Don Pedro, putting down his newspaper. ‘So, have you made up your mind if you’re going to come to Buenos Aires with me?’
    ‘Yes, I have, sir. I’d love to come, if I haven’t left it too late.’
    ‘That won’t be a problem,’ said Don Pedro. ‘Just be sure you’re ready by the time I return.’
    ‘What time will we be leaving, sir?’
    ‘Around five o’clock.’
    ‘I’ll be ready and waiting,’ said Sebastian as Bruno came into the room.
    ‘You will be pleased to hear that Sebastian will be travelling to Buenos Aires with me,’ said Don Pedro as his son sat down. ‘He’ll be back in London by the end of the
month. Make sure you take care of him when he returns.’
    Bruno was about to comment when Elena came in and placed a rack of toast in the centre of the table.
    ‘What would you like for breakfast, sir?’ she asked Bruno.
    ‘Two boiled eggs, please.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Sebastian.
    ‘I must go,’ said Don Pedro, as he rose from his place at the head of the table. ‘I have an appointment in Bond Street.’ He turned to Sebastian and added, ‘Be sure
you’re packed and ready to leave by five o’clock. We can’t afford to miss the tide.’
    ‘I can’t wait, sir,’ said Sebastian, sounding genuinely excited.
    ‘Have a good day, Papa,’ said Bruno as his father left the room. He didn’t speak again until he heard the front door close, when he looked across the table and said to his
friend, ‘Are you certain you’re making the right decision?’

    Mrs Tibbet couldn’t stop shaking. She wasn’t convinced she could go through with it. When the guests sat down for breakfast that morning, they were served with
hard-boiled eggs, burnt toast and lukewarm tea, and it was Janice who ended up taking the blame. It didn’t help that Mrs Tibbet hadn’t done any shopping for the past two days, so the
bread was stale, the fruit was over-ripe and they’d run out of bacon. Janice was relieved when the last disgruntled guest filed out of the breakfast room. One even refused to pay the
bill.
    She went down to the kitchen to see if Mrs Tibbet was feeling poorly, but there was no sign of her. Janice wondered where she could possibly be.
    Mrs Tibbet was in fact on a No. 148 bus heading down Whitehall. She still didn’t know if she could go through with it. Even if he did agree to see her, what would she say to him? After
all, what business was it of hers? She became so preoccupied that the bus had crossed Westminster Bridge before she got off. She took her time walking back across the Thames, and not because, like
the tourists, she was admiring the views up and down the river.
    She changed her mind several times before she reached Parliament Square, where her pace became slower and slower until she finally came to a halt outside the entrance to the House of Commons,
when, like Lot’s wife, she turned to salt.
    The senior doorkeeper, used to dealing with people who were overawed by their first visit to the Palace of Westminster, smiled at the frozen statue and asked, ‘May I help,
madam?’
    ‘Is this where I come to see an MP?’
    ‘Do you have an appointment?’
    ‘No, I don’t,’ said Mrs Tibbet, hoping she would be turned away.
    ‘Don’t worry, not many people do. You’ll just have to hope he’s in