The Sixpenny Cross Collection

by Victoria Twead

  “No. There must be some mistake.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “They were due home tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  Jayne stared at the stranger opposite her, then at Stan. His eyes were downcast. June’s clock ticked on the mantlepiece.

  “Are you sure it was them?” she said at last. “There must be lots of tourists…” Her voice trailed away.

  “I’m so sorry. The fisherman was identified and hotel staff verified that the bodies were those of June and Donald Tait.”

  Jayne sat still, trying to absorb the information and accept the fact that she’d never see her friends again.

  “What about Bella?”

  “If you could give me Bella’s contact details, I’ll drive over to Bristol immediately and inform her.”

  “No! Bella adores her parents, she can’t hear this from a stranger!”

  “Perhaps you could accompany me?”

  This was a nightmare. A complete nightmare.

  Jayne closed her eyes, breathed deeply and nodded.

  Bella. How was the poor girl going to take the news?

  “We should go now,” she said. “This is not something that we can delay.”

  11

  Jayne Fairweather read the label.

  Room 64, Susan Brown, Bella Tait.

  She tapped on the door.

  “Come in!” called Susan.

  Jayne opened the door and stepped inside, her uniformed companion close behind. Bella looked up and could hardly believe her eyes.

  “Auntie Jayne! Wow! What a lovely surprise!”

  She leaped up and flew across the room to give her a hug. Susan smiled and wondered who the accompanying lady in uniform was.

  “Bella…”

  “Did you come especially to see me? How lovely! How’s Hattie? Has she been missing Mum and Dad? And the hamsters? And the guinea pigs?”

  “Bella…”

  “Did you get a postcard from Italy? Look, I got two.”

  Bella’s wooden box was open on the desk and she reached for the postcards to show Jayne. Jayne stopped her hand.

  “Bella,” she said, pulling her down to sit beside her on the bed, not letting go of her hand.

  Susan and the lady in uniform watched. Something icy gripped Susan’s heart. This was not a normal visit.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Bella, suddenly aware that the atmosphere was all wrong. She looked deep into Jayne’s eyes and all colour drained from her face. A glance at the uniformed lady confirmed her fears.

  “It’s something to do with Mum and Dad, isn’t it? Something terrible has happened!”

  Jayne tried, but her throat had closed up and she couldn’t speak. Huge tears filled her eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks.

  Miss Travis stepped forward.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I’m afraid we have very bad news.”

  The university was sympathetic and helpful. Bella’s tutors agreed to extend their deadlines and save lecture notes for her return.

  They needn’t have bothered. Bella’s passion for her studies died the day she was told that her parents had drowned.

  “Bella, you should think about going back to university,” said Jayne, two months after the tragic event.

  Bella shook her head.

  “I’m not ready,” she said, burying her face in Hattie’s soft fur.

  Hattie was an elderly cat now. No longer was she a threat to birds, and her days were spent sleeping in sun puddles, only moving when the sun swung round.

  Jayne sighed. The last weeks had been tough. The bodies had been flown back, and their funeral was attended by the whole shocked village. Bella’s parents had been buried side by side in the churchyard, a single gravestone marking their final resting place. Across its dark surface, chiselled in letters of gold, the inscription read:

  My wonderful, beloved parents,

  June and Donald Tait.

  You were tragically lost at sea

  but never from my heart.

  Your adoring daughter, Bella.

  Thankfully, Donald had taken out travel insurance and the payout covered all expenses. Her parents had also insured their lives so Bella would never need to find money to pay the mortgage on the house. There was a sizable lump sum too, and if Bella was careful, it would keep her for a long time. At least until she finished training and started her career.

  But Bella could scarcely get up in the morning, let alone plan her career. The only reason she rose at all was to care for the animals, and she only dressed when she needed to go out for supplies.

  Jayne was desperately worried. Bella refused to open the curtains which had been drawn since her parents died. She wouldn’t touch June and Donald’s bedroom, or clear anything in the cottage. Her mother’s cookbooks were set out exactly as she had left them. The novel she was halfway through lay open on her bedside table. Her father’s spare spectacles were still on the coffee table. The house was a shrine to their memory.

  “Let me help you sort through their things,” Jayne suggested gently.

  “No, I’m not ready.”

  Bella’s eyes were dull and lifeless, and her voice had taken on a monotonous quality. The house was growing more and more disordered and Bella made no attempt to tidy or clean it.

  Bella’s lost interest in everything, Jayne thought as she walked home. And I don’t know what I can do to help her.

  Jayne lived alone a few doors down from Bella, just a short walk away. She was so deep in thought, she almost didn’t notice the heap on her doorstep.

  A shivering, dirty, brown and white dog looked up at her from under heavy lids.

  “Good gracious, where did you come from?” she said.

  The dog wagged its tail weakly, but didn’t seem capable of more.

  Jayne opened her front door and let herself in. The dog questioned her with sad eyes, then got to its feet and followed her in, before collapsing again in the hall.

  “You wait there,” said Jayne. “I’ll see what I can find for you.”

  The dog looked too exhausted to move, so Jayne filled a bowl with water, and another with the leftover chicken she was planning to eat for her supper that night.

  “Here you are, Sad Eyes,” she said. “Let’s see if this makes you feel any better.”

  As the dog ate and drank, Jayne thought about her new problem. She couldn’t keep a dog. She worked at the Post Office every day and the shop sold food. Animals, apart from guide dogs, were not allowed in food stores. No, the dog would have to find another home.

  It suddenly dawned on her that she knew exactly who might want this mangy heap of fur. Bella! With luck, the dog might bring a sparkle back to the girl’s eyes.

  She dialled Bella’s number.

  Bella was standing in the kitchen. She should eat, but her appetite had left her the moment she heard of her parents’ tragic death.

  She’d recently caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror and had been surprised.

  Is that really me? she asked her reflection.

  The weight was dropping off, which wasn’t a bad thing, but where did those dark rings round her eyes come from? And had her hair always been so lank and dull? Surely it used to shine with health?

  On the counter in front of her was her polished box. She ran her fingertips over its smooth surface then over the wonderful, elaborate engraving of her initials. She opened the box, gazing at her treasures.

  There was the old photograph of her Italian great-grandmother, dressed in black, leaning on a walking stick. The elderly lady looked sad.

  I wonder if she approved of her daughter marrying an Englishman, she thought. I wish I’d known her.

  She picked up her mother’s wedding ring and stroked her cheek with it. The gold felt warm, as though it been recently worn. Then she picked up the precious postcards.

  La mia bella Bella…

  She could almost hear her father’s gentle voice. She imagined him choosing this parti
cular postcard, knowing they were going out on a boat trip.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring the image of the little boats bobbing on the Ionian sea.

  Why did you have to go out in that fishing boat that day? Why, why, why?

  The phone rang.

  Bella considered ignoring it, but she wiped her tears away on her sleeve, walked into the living room and reluctantly picked up the receiver.

  12

  “Hello Bella, it’s me again.”

  “Auntie Jayne? Did you forget something?”

  So Jayne told Bella all about Sad Eyes.

  “Of course, I can’t keep a dog,” she said. “So I wondered whether you may like to look after it? Perhaps when it’s cleaned up a bit, and given a few good meals, we could find someone to adopt it.”

  “Of course! Do you want to bring the dog round now?”

  For the first time in weeks, Jayne sensed a little animation in Bella’s voice.

  “No, I’ll pop round in the morning. It’s had a good feed and it looks exhausted, so I’m going to shut it in the hall for the night.”

  Bella suddenly had a purpose. When she went to bed that night, she was actually looking forward to the next day. And that hadn’t happened for weeks.

  The next morning, before heading to the Post Office, Jayne led Sad Eyes to Bella’s house using a makeshift leash and collar.

  “She’s a little more perky today,” she said to Bella. “And I discovered she’s already been trained to walk with a leash. Poor thing must be lost.”

  Bella crouched down to examine the dog.

  “I can see why you call her Sad Eyes,” she said. “And you’re quite right, it’s a girl. She’s so hairy I can’t see if she has an injury. I don’t think she has fleas though. I’ll keep her under observation for twenty-four hours and let her settle in, then I’ll examine her properly tomorrow.”

  “Good. I’ll pop some dog food round from the shop later. And I’ll put up a card in the Post Office in case anybody has lost a dog, though I don’t remember ever seeing this one in Sixpenny Cross.”

  Not only did Sad Eyes know how to walk on a leash, she also knew all about cats. When Hattie walked into the room and saw Sad Eyes, she froze, her fur standing on end, her tail twice its usual size. Sad Eyes wagged her tail briefly, then ignored her. Hattie, although still wide-eyed, decided that the newcomer was not a threat. She jumped up to the windowsill, chose a spot, then walked round in circles before curling up for a nap in the sun.

  “You really are a very nice, polite dog,” said Bella. “And I shan’t call you Sad Eyes, although it fits. I shall call you Sadie.”

  Sadie twitched her tail in acknowledgement.

  Bella watched Sadie carefully all day. Sadie ate hungrily and drank water, but she seemed to lack energy.

  That night Bella made her a comfortable bed in the kitchen, but Sadie wouldn’t settle. She preferred to lie under the stairs, so Bella moved the bedding to Sadie’s chosen spot.

  “Good night,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll examine you properly and maybe even give you a bath.”

  She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, averting her eyes as she passed her parents’ room. Hattie was already fast asleep on her bed.

  Bella slept, and for the first time in weeks she was not tortured by terrifying nightmares of tiny boats battered by wild waves, or cries for help drowned by the wind.

  The next morning, she scampered downstairs to see how Sadie was doing in the cupboard under the stairs. Hattie followed at a more dignified pace.

  “Sadie?”

  Sadie didn’t get up to greet her, but briefly thumped her tail. Bella sensed something was different. She snapped on the light then gaped at the dog at her feet.

  Sadie was lying on her side. Firmly attached to her were seven tiny, squirming, newborn puppies.

  “Oh my!” breathed Bella, crouching down.

  Sadie’s wet nose nudged her hand. She looked at Bella and twitched her tail a few times, as if to say, hey, I did a good job, didn’t I?

  The card Jayne Fairweather pinned up in the Post Office attracted no response except interest.

  Found

  Medium-sized brown and white, long-haired mongrel dog. Friendly and well-trained.

  Please apply within.

  “Oh,” said PC Stan Cooper, “I see a dog has been found? Who’s looking after it?”

  “Bella Tait,” said Jayne. “Actually, I was just going to take down that card and rewrite it a little. Bella phoned me a few minutes ago and it seems that the poor dog was not only homeless, but pregnant. She just gave birth to seven puppies under Bella’s stairs.”

  “Oh my goodness,” said Stan as he tried to pull on his leather policemen’s gloves.

  It was December, and the wind was cold. Wearing gloves when riding a bike in such cold was a necessity. A few minutes earlier his gloves had fitted him perfectly but now they were proving to be a struggle to pull on.

  “I think you’ve got your gloves on the wrong hands,” observed Jayne.

  Stan Cooper’s clumsiness was legendary amongst the residents of Sixpenny Cross. Like his father before him, he was an excellent policeman and well suited to the village where crime was rare and an understanding of the locals essential. He was liked by all, and his clumsiness was regarded with affection and accepted.

  “Thanks,” said Stan, switching the gloves over and successfully pulling them on. “Please wish Miss Tait well with those pups. I may even take one off her hands later if she’s looking to find homes for them.”

  He put his policeman’s helmet back on, and left the shop.

  Jayne rewrote the card.

  Found

  Very pregnant, medium-sized brown and white, long-haired mongrel dog. Friendly and well-trained.

  Please apply within.

  The cell doors clanged shut. The prison warder’s rubber-soled shoes squeaked as she walked along the corridor. The lights would be dimmed soon and the inmates were expected to sleep. Judging by the shouting and banging on the bars, few of the women were tired.

  Christine Dayton wasn’t happy, but then she seldom was. The Young Offenders’ Institution they put her in first had been awful, but it had been a walk in the park compared with Her Majesty’s Women’s Prison, Holloway.

  “You will be detained until you have learned that theft is not acceptable in our society,” the magistrate had declared.

  Sitting on the bed in her shared cell, she gnawed on her nails, trying to shut out the shouting of the inmates as they communicated with each other.

  London had seemed so attractive compared with Yewbridge. Of course she knew the streets wouldn’t be paved with gold but she thought finding a job and making a living would be easy in such a large city. Unfortunately, her poor attitude and lack of respect for those in authority ensured that she never kept a job for more than a few days.

  Sleeping under the arches with the other homeless people and runaways wasn’t so bad. She’d always been able to look after herself.

  And learning how to break into people’s houses and help herself to their possessions wasn’t difficult either. She’d had plenty of practice in Sixpenny Cross. It was easy if you were careful.

  She’d become an expert burglar and accomplished shoplifter. Then, when she’d been caught and sent to the Young Offenders’ Institution, she’d mixed with others just like herself and honed her skills.

  She learned how to jostle someone to distract them, whilst relieving them of their wallet.

  She learned how to target householders and memorise their routines. She’d watch for the best time to break in, like when a mother was collecting kids from school.

  She learned how to spy and take note where people hid their house keys. Amazing how many idiots hid keys under a flowerpot or doormat. Or left their doors open.

  She learned how to find the blind spots in a store, where the security cameras didn’t reach. And how to try on clothes in a changing room, and put one’s own clothes back on top.
Then walk out, bold as brass.

  But her luck had run out, and now here she was in Holloway for a stretch. Caught again. And it was a lot worse than the Young Offenders’ unit.

  I wonder what that spoilt Fat Belly Bella is doin’ now? That’s if she ain’t exploded. I bet she’s at some stupid university, and that quarter-Italian mother of hers is still fillin’ her up with pasta. And I bet her dad phones her every day. Loser!

  When I get out of here, I might just leave London and take myself back to Yewbridge and the countryside. Lots of villages. All ripe for the picking. Might even pay smug lil Fat Belly and her parents a visit.

  When they’ve gone out.

  13

  Bella was distracted for the first time since she’d lost her parents. Helping animals was what she lived for and what she did best, allowing little time for brooding.

  Sadie was an excellent mother. She washed and fed her babies continually, and watched that they didn’t stray too far. Bella loved looking after Sadie, and she loved watching the puppies grow.

  “Those pups are going to open their eyes soon. And it won’t be two minutes before they’ll be under our feet and all over the place,” observed Jayne on one of her regular visits. “Shall I help you have a bit of a tidy up? This pile of newspapers, and this empty box, for instance. Shall I take them outside and pop them in the bin?”

  “No,” said Bella. “No, thank you. Those newspapers could be useful for the pups when I’m house-training them. And I have plans for that box.”

  “Well, what about these empty cans?”

  “No.”

  “Bella, you have to throw some things away. It’s getting pretty cluttered in here. What about this empty bottle?”

  “No, I’m going to use that.”

  Jayne gave up.

  Apart from the untidy house, Jayne was pleased with Bella’s progress. Sadie’s arrival had given Bella a purpose, and Jayne hoped that when the pups and Sadie left for new homes, Bella might return to university and pick up her studies.