Even the primitive plumbing arrangement, which the Jenner children had found so archaic and disgusting, didn’t trouble her. RK knew when she accepted the cottage that it hadn’t been occupied for some time because it was on the list to be upgraded. Nevertheless, the villagers rallied to meet her personal needs with numerous offers of shower and bathing facilities. RK eventually elected to accept the one from Jennifer Pedwardine, of all people, “because her house is within easy walking distance of the cottage.” After all, RK had no hang ups from Miss Pedwardine’s schoolmarm days, she only knew her as a retired lady resident of the village.
“There’s vacant space in the garage, too, if you care to use it to store your motorbike,” Jennifer generously suggested, “keep it out of harm’s way.”
Consequently, early one evening, P.C. Dan passed RK wheeling the Harley-Davidson along the lane to Miss Pedwardine’s house. He braked, parked up the police motorcycle and jogged back to join her. Just like the children of the village Dan found the tall, dark haired young woman with the captivating smile, a fun person to be with.
Dan had mentioned his fascination with RK to Adam and Justin, one evening when they were leaving the Church following choir practise. They’d both advised caution and reminded Dan of the Biblical concept of being ‘unequally yoked’ to a non-believer and RK’s persistent affirmation that Christianity was not for her.
“Guard your heart, Dan,” Adam wisely counselled. “Don’t mistakenly think that human love can bring about another’s salvation. That’s the Lord’s prerogative. By all means pray for her and offer friendship. She needs it. But don’t presume that you can change her.”
Dan respected Adam’s judgement. No one could doubt his sincerity and the depth of his love and commitment to Laura. It was obvious their closeness stemmed from a personal relationship with the Lord Jesus. That oneness was of paramount importance in their lives and evident in their dealings with each other, the people belonging to the church fellowship and their fellow residents in the village. It was the foundation upon which they had built their family life and the anchor that was now holding them steady through the difficulties of Laura’s illness.
“I believe a shared belief is a necessary prelude to a successful marriage,” commented Adam. With this in mind Dan took care not to present the wrong vibes whenever he and RK met.
“Hi there, can I give you a hand?” Dan enquired pleasantly as he strode to RK’s side.
RK shook her head. “No thanks, I can manage.”
“OK, Miss Independent,” he said with a smile, “but here’s a card with my phone number on it; assistance available anytime, should you need it.”
“Now, why would I need that?” She turned to look at Dan her merry brown eyes twinkling impishly as she reached to accept the card.
“You may not realise it but you’re in a rather vulnerable position down at Ferry Cottage,” Dan explained carefully.
“It’s a lovely spot and I’m sure I can watch out for myself,” RK confidently assured him with a bold, wide smile.
“Maybe,” agreed Dan against his better judgement, “but should the isolation get to you just give a call.”
“I’m sure you’ve got more important things to occupy your time than concerning yourself about me,” asserted RK coquettishly.
Meanwhile, at an emergency meeting instigated by Trixie Cooper, the village housing committee agreed to the proposal to have interim improvements made to the outside lavatory at the cottage. Durrant’s, the builders, were invited to submit plans to brick up the outside doorway, install a modern toilet suite and cistern and open up access via the living space next to the back door. However, when Ben Durrant was taking measurements for the building work he also intimated that, by portioning off the small area from the toilet wall in front of the back door, an indoor porch could be created.
“The toilet facilities would then not lead directly off the kitchen area. Also, it will give added insulation to the rear of the property, as well as, much needed protection from the cold, east winds and possibly provide storage for outdoor shoes or boots and the like. The new wall could provide a useful space to put up hooks for coats.”
“You think of everything, my boy,” commended Lord Edmund warmly.
“Well, sir, it’s my opinion that if the job’s done properly now it can remain, and be a valuable asset, even when further renovation takes place.”
“Increase the value of the property, too, I imagine,” Lord Edmund commented dryly.
Closing the bedroom curtains in the twilight one evening, when she had been in residence almost two weeks, RK saw shadowy figures lurking on the beach near the crumbled rear wall of the cottage garden. Many people enjoyed an evening stroll along the beach so it was not an unusual occurrence but it was the furtive movements of this group, in particular, that caught her attention and she stood glued to the window staring at them.
However, in the next instant, RK caught her breath and clapped her hand across her mouth as she watched them clamber, one by one, over the wall into her garden.
They moved towards the cottage and as she looked out into the gloom RK recognized one of them as the deckhand from Mark Bemment’s boat. The other two were people with whom she was totally unfamiliar. Small packages were passed between them and the stealthy manner with which it was done perturbed RK. The men looked cautiously around them. Before she knew it eyes from below were locked on hers. RK gulped and quickly stepped back from the window.
“Hey!” a voice barked.
Hairs on the back of her neck bristled as fists hammered on the back door. RK leaned against the bedroom door afraid the unexpected visitors could hear the pounding of her heart. She held her breath, as goose bumps snaked down her spine, recalled P.C. Dan’s cautionary words, and listened.
“Thought you said this place was deserted,” hissed a voice angrily.
“It was, bin empty a couple o’ years. Must be a squatter,” spat out the irritated reply.
“Don’t be stupid, someone’s living here.”
“How could they? Look at it. It’s derelict.” He viciously kicked the dilapidated lavatory door to prove his point and something unidentifiable scuttled out of the debris into the evening shadows.
“Would you want to use that?”
“There’s definitely someone up there. I saw them,” he retorted furiously, “and, you can be sure, whoever it was saw us.”
“Oh Doc, keep yer hair on. What did they see? Three mates getten’ together.”
“What if we’re recognized?”
“Who in the village knows yew?” His companions shook their heads. “Precisely! No one. If they recognize me they’ll assume yew’re fishen’ pals of mine. Ten to one it’s not even a local in there. They wouldn’t be seen dead in the place.”
“I still think we need to be cautious.”
“OK, OK, but it’s hardly the same as the ole shopkeeper. He was too nosey, at least we silenced him.” The deckhand was beginning to get riled with his companions.
“I don’t know why you thought it necessary to meet out here, again. What was wrong with our usual venue?” The disgruntled speaker looked suspiciously over his shoulder.
“Not safe; getten’ too hot; spies everywhere in the city,” came back the clipped reply.
“I thought we were always discreet.”
“’ard to know who to trust, these days.”
“Don’t get careless and don’t take risks,” warned the second voice, menacingly.
“Thass why we ’ad to switch location.”
RK hardly dared to move. She waited.
“We need to lie low…”
The taller of his companions grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pushed his face into that of his captive. “Don’t drag us down with you,” he threatened.
The deckhand shook off his attacker. “Cool it, Doc. Who would think yew city gents and me were mates?”
They shrugged their shoulders.
“Thass right, no one. So,
I’ll go this way an’ yew go that way an’ I’ll be in touch.” He leapt back over the wall and was gone.
RK held her breath and waited. Eventually all seemed quiet. She listened till she thought the nocturnal visitors had moved away, then very cautiously crept down the stairs, not daring to put on the light. RK felt her way along the wall into the kitchen and across the length of the worktop to where she had placed her mobile phone. Now, where did I put the card that P.C. Dan gave to me? She fumbled about until she found it in her jacket pocket. She tiptoed to the farthest corner away from the window and by the dwindling light dialled Dan’s number but there was no response. Her battery was flat. She sighed. She’d forgotten to put it on charge. Frustrated she ascended the stairs and prepared for bed.
The following morning the sky was overcast and the grey clouds reflected RK’s sombre mood. After her unpleasant experience the previous evening she had spent a somewhat restless night but slowly, understanding had dawned on her so, as soon as possible, she made a point of seeking out P.C. Dan Prettyman. Putting on a cheerful face she briefly related the incident to him.
“I suggest the harbour master and your police sergeant investigate in that direction regarding the smuggling episodes instead of targeting me.” RK grinned at him as he looked at her with disbelief. “I think they might have more success.” During the night she had sussed out the reason for the dogged police presence wherever she went and recalled where she had encountered the deckhand before. He was the obnoxious youth who had offered her drugs in the Ship Inn on her first day in the village.
“When you catch him, ask about the nosey shopkeeper that was silenced. Also, he referred to one of his friends as ‘Doc’ and called them ‘city gents’.”
Dan, for once, was speechless. Before he recovered his senses RK was half way down Ferry Lane. “Robyn,” he called after her but she had turned the corner, presumably to go into the Village Stores, and didn’t hear him.
Dan pulled out his mobile phone and pressed the buttons that would link him to the police station.
“Sarge, I think I have a lead on the smuggling incidents.”
“Fire away, m’bor, Oi’m a list’nen.”
After an intense conversation with Sergeant Catchpole, Dan made his way with haste to the Village Stores. He was anxious to speak again with RK and enlist her help in police enquiries. As he entered the shop he spied her half way down one of the aisles. He pulled her to one side and quietly explained his assignment.
“My sergeant would like to send a SOCO team to carry out a thorough search of the area around the cottage and in your garden.”
“SOCO?”
“Excuse the jargon, Scene of Crime Officers.”
“So, they do believe me then?”
“They consider the information you passed on to be a valuable lead and wish to investigate further, with your permission, of course.”
“You sound very formal, Constable.”
“Sorry, but in the circumstances, I’m afraid, rather necessary.”
“Then, I can hardly do less than comply.”
“Thanks. Rain is forecast for later in the day so they would like to make an immediate start.”
“Right, I’ll just pay for my groceries then go straight back home to wait for their arrival. Does that meet with your approval?” Dan nodded as RK lifted the wire basket onto the counter then he turned and exited the shop to ride hurriedly away on the police motorbike.
Rosalie looked up at RK with concern in her eyes as she swiftly passed RK’s shopping through the checkout. “Is everything alright?” she enquired kindly.
RK, with tightly compressed lips, nodded. She packed her bags in silence.
Laden with shopping RK made her way back to Ferry Cottage her heart thumping with apprehension as she approached the front door. With the shopping bags balanced round her wrist she fumbled with the key in the lock. It fell to the ground. Anxiously RK bent down to pick it up. She tried again and this time succeeded in opening the door and stepping inside her home. She had barely finished putting away her groceries when a police car pulled up outside Ferry Cottage.
One officer hovered in the kitchen to ask RK questions regarding the incident of the previous evening while his colleagues set about their task in the garden. Sometime later, when the policemen had all finished and were on the point of leaving the property, one of their number turned and said to RK, “Someone will be in touch about attending an identity procedure.” Sensing her apprehension by her body language he added, “Now don’t you worry about a thing, Miss. You’ll be shown some photographs and asked to indicate if you can identify anyone as last night’s intruders.”
RK merely nodded and watched through the window till their car passed out of sight then spent the rest of the day in an unsettled haze.
When the new day dawned, despite an uneventful night, RK was glad to be going to work at the Catton house. The episode in the garden had shaken her more than she cared to admit to others. She felt as though the nocturnal trespassers had robbed her of the joy of her new home. Her footsteps barely touched the ground as she sped to commence care of her charges. The needs of the Catton children would keep her occupied in mind and body.
Although RK had not mentioned her experience to anyone the sight of the police car outside Ferry Cottage fuelled speculation among the gossips in the village. Huddles of parents by the school gate and shoppers along the aisles in the Village Stores tossed around all manner of possibilities for the police presence at RK’s new home. As Emma checked the fresh food display she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
“I wonder what she’s done.”
“Yourn guess be as good as mine.”
“But who knows anything about her?”
“She do seem to appear from nowhere, doan’t she?”
“Perhaps she be in hiden’.”
“Ooh! Maybe we be harbouren’ a criminal.”
“Stands to reason she’s bin up to somethen’.”
“No wonder she pretended to be a man.”
“’Spect it be that wretched bike noise.”
“Noo…oo, can’t be that. She hardly rides it these days.”
“Then I guess they’ve caught her a-thieven’.”
“We’ll ’ave t’ watch our purses.”
“Why were the police a-trampen’ round the garden then?”
“A-searchen’ for the loot.”
“Hope those children aren’t at risk.”
“Don’t be silly. Adam Catton be a stickler for the law. She’d ’ave to be checked out by the police, CBR check or somethen’ afore…”
“Good morning, ladies, how can I help you today?” Emma called out as she strolled down the aisle. Immediately the conversation stopped. Aah! Red coat and Purple coat from Newton Common! I might have known it would be you two casting aspersions on someone’s character. Poor RK hasn’t much chance when she’s up against the acid tongues of Irma Morton and Dot Knights.
“I have a few of today’s pasties left, if you’re interested.” Emma walked slowly back to the counter, breathed deeply to keep her temper in check. She didn’t intend to reduce the price because it was still early in the day but she did want to distract their attention away from crucifying RK. After all they had no idea what was really going on and were letting their imaginations run away with them. To blacken RK’s reputation so was quite dreadful.
I do wonder how I can help RK if she really is in some sort of trouble. I’ll give Mirry and Justin a call. Perhaps we could have an impromptu house warming this evening. Emma was concerned for her friend. She stood for a moment looking out of the large shop window. Her eyes drifted across the village towards the lane that led to Ferry cottage as she tried to recall the conversation she and Rosalie had shared last evening. I think Rosalie mentioned RK being upset about something when she came in the shop for her groceries yesterday and that Dan Prettyman chased in after her and had some strong words with her. So there might be some truth in the gossips
tittle-tattle.
“Good morning, young lady.” Emma turned with a start from her reverie at the smarmy voice addressing her. Leaning over the counter was a stranger. She eyed him up and down and didn’t particularly like what she saw. She estimated he was fortyish trying to be twentyish. He was wearing a light grey suit with an overstuffed briefcase under his arm, hair jelled and spiked to within an inch of its life and above his smirking lips he was sporting a Hitler style moustache. What she disliked most of all was the manner in which he was leering at her in a most suggestive way. You’re obviously a rep hoping to impress.
Hearing a new voice in the shop the eyes of the gossiping customers lit up with interest. They hushed their talk, picked up their shopping baskets and bustled along the aisle towards the checkout to stare at the new arrival.
“Good morning, can I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to the proprietor.”
“What about?”
“That’s between him and me,” the smooth talker replied tapping the side of his nose.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me.”
“If he’s tied up at present I can wait.” He stepped back and looked derisively across the entire shop. “You don’t seem to be very busy so I wouldn’t have thought he has that many things pressing for his attention. Just go and ask him if he can spare a moment for our little discussion, there’s a good girl.”
Emma began to seethe. Come on, girl, keep calm. Don’t let him get to you. Stand tall and take a deep breath.
Emma did just that and looked straight into his shifty eyes. He couldn’t hold her gaze.
“If there is anything to be discussed you’ll have to discuss it with me,” she said decisively, wishing this wasn’t Rosalie’s day off.
The stranger waived Emma away dismissively. “No, no, no that won’t do at all. I can’t discuss such important issues with a chit of a girl like you.”
“Then you’re going to be disappointed.”
Red coat and Purple coat edged nearer to the counter sensing something interesting was beginning to develop.
Out of My Depth Page 14