by Pip Granger
She’d just slammed the door behind him when the whistle blew and we were off. I was about to wave goodbye when I caught a glimpse of Charlie Fluck’s head, complete with chauffeur’s cap, behind her. I made for the safety of Auntie Maggie’s lap toot sweet and kept my head buried in her large, comforting bosom while Mr Herbert explained all.
I hadn’t realized just how frightened I had been until I was swathed in the reassuring smells of warm Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert’s pipe.
26
The only things I remember about the train journey from Bath to London were lots of talk, Auntie Maggie’s lap, the comforting sounds and smells of my loved ones and Uncle Bert finding a gobstopper in my ear. I was busy slurping this and staring out of the window when I must have fallen asleep. What’s more, I must have stayed asleep for ages because I barely remember arriving at Paddington, being bundled into a cab and finally arriving back at the cafe. That brought me round. The sheer joy of being back in familiar surroundings, with friends on all sides, made me feel safe again. All I had seen and heard in Bath had made me very nervous and what I wanted most was to get back to normal. I was even beginning to miss school and look forward to the new term.
Mamma Campanini had prepared a meal for us and we went to her place to eat it. Even Mr Herbert came. I got the feeling that he quite liked being around us and we certainly liked having him. He’d sort of slotted in and you couldn’t see the seam.
While we were at Mamma Campanini’s, Uncle Bert filled Luigi and the others in on what had been happening. There was a general murmur of unease at the news that Charlie Fluck had seen me with my great-aunt and it was agreed that everyone would keep an eye open for Charlie or any other suspicious person. Quite suddenly Uncle Bert began to laugh.
Auntie Maggie was indignant. ‘What’s so funny, may I ask?’
‘I was just wondering, Maggie, how the hell we’re supposed to pick out a suspicious person round here? Everyone’s bleeding suspicious!’
‘Well, you talk for yourself, Bert Featherby. There ain’t nothing suspicious about me. P’raps you had better tell us what this Godfrey person looks like, Mr Herbert? It might be a help.’
Mr Herbert did his best to oblige, describing Ghastly Godfrey in some detail. The trouble was, he sounded like a million other blokes, only better dressed. According to Mr Herbert he was shortish, about five foot seven, with slicked-back dark brown hair going grey at the temples and he wore spectacles. Apparently, the most striking thing about him was his skin; it had a yellowish tinge from years in the tropics.
Meanwhile we decided to put the word out for my mum to present herself as soon as humanly possible. She was back from Paris, and had been seen in a Mayfair gambling club with a Greek ship owner who was losing heavily at the roulette table.
Once I’d eaten, I got all dopey again and I was tucked up on Mamma Campanini’s bed while the rest made a night of it. It seems to me, looking back, that my lot were always having get-togethers of one sort or another. Some were full-blown parties but mostly they were just small, convivial gatherings – what Auntie Maggie called a ‘muffin worry’ and Uncle Bert a ‘bunfight’. Telly hadn’t really got a grip in those days and people still sang around the joanna on a Sunday after dinner or tea. We went to the pictures a lot, too, and played card games like Snap, Whist, Fish, Rummy, Beat Your Neighbour Out of Doors and Happy Families in the evenings while we listened to the radio. Now I like the telly as much as the next person, but I sometimes miss the days when people did things together.
I dimly remember being carried out of the Campaninis’ place by Uncle Bert. It was dark – well, at least as dark as it ever gets with street lamps and the neon. I woke the next morning in my own bed with the light streaming in through my thin summer curtains. Tom had honoured me with his presence some time during the night because I could feel his large, soft body throbbing gently against my legs. I opened my eyes and gave his tattered, lace-curtain lugs a loving fumble. It was good to be home.
Monday morning followed the usual routine. I turned the closed sign to open and Uncle Bert shot the bolts on the cafe door. A constant stream of seedy-looking strangers ordered coffees and teas and nursed their hangovers. Most of them kept looking at the clock, anxious to get to work on time. The rush would die to a trickle by about half-past eight as they hurried off to offices, shops or warehouses. There would be a bit of a lull, then the locals would wander in for a gossip and a coffee. To everyone’s astonishment, the first local in that morning was Sharky Finn. It was not like Sharky to put in an appearance before noon at the earliest, so we knew it was serious.
‘Bert, Maggie, a word in your shell-likes if I may. Shall we retire to the corner table? A little privacy is required, I think.’
Mrs Wong waited long enough for the three of them to get settled, then she drifted over with a Sharky special. I could smell the brandy as she walked past me. I sidled up behind her and settled myself on Uncle Bert. I don’t know how I knew, but I was convinced that whatever Sharky had to say, it was about me. Everything pointed to it somehow. All that chasing around the countryside hotly pursued by the slimy Charlie Fluck; the sudden advent of hordes of unknown relatives; the ancestral home complete with loyal retainers; all these things had come into my life in the last few days. It seemed inevitable that an unprecedented visit from Sharky, in the morning no less, should have something to do with it all. And I was right.
Sharky was silent for a moment while he mumbled his dead cigar around a bit. Removing the blackened stump from his mouth, he took a swig of his coffee and began to speak. ‘Bert, Maggie, I won’t tart it up. Someone’s broken into my office and stolen the file pertaining to Rosie’s guardianship. That was all that was stolen. Is there any sign of a break-in here?’
Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert looked at each other. Then Uncle Bert took me gently round the waist and lowered me to the ground as he stood up. ‘I’ll just go and check to see if our copy’s still here, Sharky,’ he said, and off he went.
We waited in silence until he came back a few minutes later. He looked grave. ‘The bathroom window’s been forced. It’s not hard to get at. There’s that alley and the wall. You could easily reach the bathroom window from that wall, no trouble at all. Done it meself when I was locked out. Professional search though. No mess, but they found our copy and it’s gone.’
I just caught a stricken look that passed from Auntie Maggie to Uncle Bert when Sharky held up a hand. He leaned forward. ‘Just as well I took the precaution of sending the third copy to my safe place then, isn’t it?’ he said in a voice I could barely hear. ‘The point is, who took it and, what’s more important, why? I have a feeling that if we can answer the first question, the second will answer itself.’
‘I think we had better go upstairs, Sharky,’ Uncle Bert decided. ‘There’s a lot to tell you. Maggie love, do you think you can hold the fort? I’ll try to be as quick as I can. Tell the punters they’ll have to wait if they want something fancy.’
I don’t know what Uncle Bert and Sharky talked about upstairs because I wasn’t invited to join them. But when they came down, they both looked serious. Sharky left, muttering something about checking a few things out and getting back to Uncle Bert when he had some answers. Then Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert went into a huddle and Auntie Maggie kept looking over at me with a troubled expression. I was trying to eat my breakfast, but it was hard to get the toast past the lump in my throat.
I knew that my grown-ups were afraid, so I was afraid too.
27
I crept around for the next few days, trying to keep out of sight. I found I kept staring out of the windows at the street or the alleyway, and once I caught both Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert at it too. There was an uneasy feeling about the place, rather like the feeling that ran through the area when a gang war was brewing or the police decided to crack down on gambling or the working girls. Everyone was jumpy.
It didn’t take long for the word to spread that Sharky’s office and our flat h
ad had an unwelcome visitor some time on Sunday. Various theories were put forward as to who was responsible, but we knew that Charlie Fluck and very possibly Ghastly Godfrey were behind it. What we could not understand was how Charlie had managed to get to London before we did.
Luigi was practical. ‘Simple, innit? He didn’t do it himself. He got someone on the blower who did it for him.’
Of course! It was obvious when you thought about it. Old Mrs Roberts from the newsagent’s said she’d seen Dave hanging about early on Sunday evening. He’d been standing in next door’s doorway as if he was waiting. She’d thought he was planning to give Paulette a hard time about something. This was discussed at length but, as far as we were concerned, Charlie and Dave didn’t know each other. Madame Zelda muttered something about ‘the flea always being able to find the bleeding dog’. I was on the point of asking her who she thought the flea was and who the dog, and then realized I didn’t have to, especially as Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert agreed that Charlie and Dave did make a likely couple.
Meanwhile, the word went out even more urgently for the Perfumed Lady to present herself at the cafe, and I was sent round to Mr Herbert’s with an equally urgent message for Great-aunt Dodie. He called her immediately, while I waited, and she said she’d come to London as soon as she could. She told me to tell Uncle Bert that she had seen nothing of either Godfrey or Clunt. I had my mouth open to yell ‘Fluck’ but snapped it shut again. What was the point? We knew who she meant. It was arranged that she would stay with Mr Herbert and that we would all meet to talk abut the thefts and try to work out what it all added up to and what we could do about it, if anything. As always, everyone kept their eyes open wide.
It was Luigi who saw Charlie first. It was late afternoon on Thursday when he came into the cafe and told us that he’d seen him disappearing into Theresa’s place. She still lived above the greengrocer’s on the corner of Frith Street. So Charlie was just down the road! This was a turn-up for the books. It meant that Charlie and Dave did know each other, or that Charlie was on visiting terms with Theresa, which probably meant that he and Dave had at least met.
Uncle Bert, Auntie Maggie and Luigi went into a huddle to discuss this latest turn of events. Luckily, Luigi had had the sense to get a couple of his young nephews, Giorgio and Luciano, to keep an eye on Theresa’s as he thought that we would want to know when Charlie left and where he went. He was right, although as it happened we didn’t need the spies. Not half an hour after Luigi turned up, Charlie burst through the door. I just had time to disappear behind the counter.
‘All right, you lot! No more messin’ about. Where’s that bloody Cassandra Loveday-Smythe? I know you know her and I know you know her aunt ’cos I saw that kid wiv her only the other day. You may be able to fool Mr Godfrey but you can’t pull the wool over my eyes and don’t think you can.’
Uncle Bert wiped his hands on a dishcloth and took his time before he spoke. When he did, his voice was very quiet. I could barely hear him and I was crouched at his feet, behind the counter. ‘Now what can we do for you, Mr Fluck? Usually, when people want information, they ask polite, like. They don’t come barging in here yelling their heads off. P’raps if you adjust your manners we might feel more inclined.’
‘I think, Mr Albert John bleedin’ Feaverby, that you had better make up your mind to co-operate.’ I peeked round the edge of the counter. Charlie was waving a large brownish envelope in the air. ‘Or take the consequences, if you get my drift? Now I know who the brat belongs to, I’ve decided to stop pussy-footin’ round you lot. There’s one or two people who might be interested in what I can tell ’em. I want to see the kid’s mum and I want to see her soon.’
Uncle Bert opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything Charlie was off again. ‘Or I’ll just take this little lot to her family and see what they make of it.’ He brandished the envelope again. ‘I’ll be back on Monday, round about four o’clock. Tell her to be here. Or else!’ The cafe door slammed and he was gone.
Luigi, Uncle Bert and Auntie Maggie looked at each other and I crept out from my hiding place. Nobody said anything. At last Auntie Maggie roused herself and told me to nip next door and get Sharky. Uncle Bert added that perhaps I could ask Sharky to telephone Mr Herbert and ask him to get Great-aunt Dodie up to town as soon as she could make it. I had just got to the door when he added as an afterthought that perhaps Sharky could also try telephoning my mum. I galloped off to do his bidding.
Sharky was in his office with Muriel when I arrived panting at his door. The room was wreathed in cigar smoke, and several cups littered the surfaces that were not covered with piles of paper. Muriel had a notepad in one hand and a pencil poised in the other. Sharky was lying back in his chair, staring vacantly at the ceiling.
I gave my message in a rush in case I should forget any of it.
Sharky sat bolt upright, tipping a cup over as he did so. The thick black dregs of coffee dripped steadily on to the floor. ‘Say again, young Rosie. Slowly this time.’
I repeated my requests and told him what Charlie had said.
‘Blackmail, is it? We’ll have to see about that. Muriel, get me Mr Herbert’s number and Cassandra’s. They’re in the book. No, not the telephone book, our book. Then give ’em a bell. Put them through to me. Tell Bert I’ll be down in a moment, will you, Rosie?’
Madame Zelda was in the cafe when I got back and it was obvious by her face that someone had told her Charlie was around. I passed on Sharky’s message, then asked Madame Zelda where Paulette was.
‘She’s gone for a job, Rosie. They’re hiring at the Lyon’s Corner House at Marble Arch and she thought she’d give it a go. She should be back in a mo.’
Almost as soon as she’d spoken, the door opened and in came Paulette, looking flustered but hopeful she’d got the job. She joined Madame Zelda and caught up with all our news. By the time Sharky appeared, everyone looked worried. Mr Herbert had called Great-aunt Dodie and she had promised to arrive that evening. All we could do was wait.
When not even my doll’s house could distract me, I went to play with Kathy Moon in the square for an hour or so. By the time I got home again, the cafe was closed but Madame Zelda, Paulette, Luigi and Sharky were all sitting around waiting for Mr Herbert and my great-aunt to arrive. The ashtrays on their tables were full, and cups and glasses were strewn about the place. Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert were going through the motions of clearing the decks for the morning. I could tell that they were thinking about other things though. They looked strained and I just sort of hung around. Nobody seemed to have much to say.
At last a taxi drew up outside and Great-aunt Dodie arrived, accompanied by Mr Herbert. Uncle Bert let them in and introduced them to Luigi and Sharky, then filled in the details of the thefts and Charlie’s visit.
Great-aunt Dodie’s eyes glittered and she was quiet for quite a while. ‘I don’t think the little bastard has told Godfrey everything,’ she said eventually. ‘Clunt is firmly fixed on the main chance, which, from what you say, he seems to think is blackmail. Of course both he and Godfrey are desperate to find Cassandra. She’s the real key to all this interest in young Rosa. I’m convinced that Godfrey means to use the child as a way of making Cassandra do what he wants.’
‘And what would that be, d’you think?’ Sharky’s voice was thoughtful.
‘It’s always been his ambition to get his hands on the family business. When my brother Percy died, Godfrey, who already worked for Loveday Engineering, married Evelyn almost before the coffin was out of the house, in order to get control of her stock. She takes no interest in the business at all.’ Great-aunt Dodie’s voice was sharp with disapproval as it always was when she mentioned the mysterious woman who was my grandmother.
Sharky had sat up at the word ‘business’. ‘And what is the family business, exactly?’
‘Loveday Engineering. It used to concentrate on making bits for bridges before the war but expanded into producing components for airc
raft, tanks and automobiles when the hostilities created a huge demand. We churn out an astounding number and variety of ball-bearings as well, though God knows what they go into.’
Sharky was leaning forward. ‘And how do you think this man Godfrey is planning to use Rosie here if he can get his hands on her?’ His eyes never left my great-aunt’s face.
‘It’s very simple, really. He will either use Rosa to pressure Cassandra into voting his way at board meetings or he might even get her to hand over her shares to him, lock, stock and barrel. It would save an awful lot of trouble. When poor Percy died he left his stock equally between Evelyn and the two children. As the children were obviously too young to look after their inheritance, Godfrey did it for them. Then they grew up.’
Everyone looked bewildered except Sharky, who nodded. ‘So the trouble started when Godfrey lost effective control of the company?’
‘Yes indeed. You’ve got it.’ Great-aunt Dodie suddenly looked old and weary. ‘It has been dashed awkward with Cassandra disappearing and refusing point blank to deal with Godfrey and the business. Godfrey and Charles are always at loggerheads over every decision and I often have to step in and cast my vote to decide an issue. Which puts me on the wrong side of at least one of them and sometimes both.’
‘Has Cassandra been using her money since she became old enough to deal with it herself?’ Sharky asked the question that was troubling everyone. If the Perfumed Lady was rich, how come she was always skint?
‘To my knowledge she has never touched it. When she left the Hall, she left everything: her family, her clothes – everything. Naturally Charles makes sure that her share of the profits is banked for her, and before he was old enough I saw to it. That’s one of the many reasons Godfrey and I loathe each other. I made sure that he could not get his grubby hands on either the children’s money or their shares. He’s a greedy bastard, Godfrey.’