McQueen's Agency
Page 9
‘It’s my glasses, son. They’re cracked.’
Charlie saw that was an understatement. One lens had a deep crack across the surface and the other lens was totally covered with a mesh of fine lines.
‘I dropped them the other day and stood on them,’ she said ruefully. ‘I’m waiting to see the optician later today to get another pair on the National Health.’
He turned to go but Mrs Rice added, ‘The man was wearing one of those coats with a hood. You ken the ones I mean. Sailors wear them but I can’t remember what they’re called.’
‘A duffle coat, Mrs Rice?’
Her face lit up. ‘That’s right, son. Those coats with the toggles and the hood. I’ve seen them at the pictures in one of those John Mills films about ships and submarines.’
Charlie was puzzled. Here was another incident with a seaman. First Harry and now Tam. There had to be a connection.
He made his way round the corner to the Dock Street Dispensary for Sick Animals. Rover was lying in a cage. He seemed to be asleep. There was dried blood on his head and stitches covered the deep gash on his back. His back leg was in a splint. The vet came out and examined him.
‘Poor wee dog. He got a good beating with something heavy. I’m not sure if the leg will heal. We might have to amputate it but I’ll give it another day or two. Just to see how it goes.’
‘What about that deep cut on his back?’
‘That should heal all right. Luckily for him he was well fed and had a bit of fat about him. Otherwise it could have been much worse.’
Charlie made his way back to Gellatly Street. He was filled with anger at the thought of someone trying to kill a harmless old man and his dog.
Charlie sat by the side of the bed and told Tam about Mrs Rice’s statement. ‘Everything seems to come back to Harry Hawkins. Are you sure you’ve never met him before? Maybe you were both on the same ship at some time.’
Tam shook his head. ‘No, I never saw him till I met him in the pub the night he died. I’m much older than him and I’ve been retired for almost thirteen years. I never saw any action during the war. Not like Harry. He said he had been all over the world since going to sea at sixteen.’
‘I checked up on Harry’s work record. He was with the Hull firm for four years and he did a year on the emigrant ships going out to Australia, as a steward. I’m not sure why he left that job but he went straight back to work on the ship from Hull to Rotterdam, then The Mary Anne afterwards.’
Tam gave Charlie a direct look. ‘You’ve not mentioned Rover. He’s dead. Isn’t he?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘No Tam, I’ve just left the vet. Rover has a deep gash on his back that needed stitches. He was sleeping when I left him.’
Charlie felt awful not telling Tam the entire truth but the vet had said to give Rover’s leg another couple of days. Why worry the old man until then?
15
Cliff Top House was a hive of activity on the Monday morning. Joe, Mike and Christie were busy loading the van with Ronald’s furniture.
Lena appeared in her housecoat. She looked tired and had black shadows under her eyes.
‘What a weekend we’ve had. Ronald’s van has broken down so he wants his furniture delivered today. Actually, he wanted it yesterday but Joe fell on the beach and cut his arm badly. He won’t go to the infirmary or the doctor. He says it’ll heal in a couple of days.
‘And as you can see, Molly, I’ve overslept. My arm was very painful last night and I didn’t get much sleep and I have to be with Kenneth in the shop today. Can you and Christie deal with the delivery for Edinburgh? James’s van is coming this morning.’
Molly said she would help Christie with the loading.
‘Now don’t you do any heavy lifting, Molly. Christie and the van driver will do that.’ She gave a final glance towards her husband who had finished loading his van and gave a little wave as he drove away with Mike. Joe didn’t return her wave nor did he say anything to his wife as he drove out of the courtyard, even though he passed within a few feet of the two women.
After a few minutes Lena headed back indoors, saying, ‘I’d better get dressed or Kenneth will be waiting for me.’
Molly headed for the office where there was a huge pile of invoices waiting to be filed, plus another batch of brochures to be posted.
Molly could hardly believe the amounts of money people were spending on antique furniture, rugs and paintings. Perhaps it was as Betty said. People were tired of Utility furniture and clothes.
Glancing through some of the brochures that were sent out regularly to the Lamont’s favoured customers, she saw some lovely pieces; tables with beautiful inlaid work and chairs covered in fabulous fabrics.
She heard the van before she saw it; its slow lumbering whine as it drew up at the back door.
Christie appeared as Lena and Kenneth were getting into their car. ‘We’ll be back about five o’clock, Christie.’
The two van drivers were standing at the side of their vehicle. Christie said to drive it to the entrance of the shed.
Molly had to go to the shed with the delivery book and note everything that was put on the van, but the three men lifted the goods and placed them gently into the interior, wrapping cloths around the furniture to protect it from bumps. Molly didn’t like to be morbid but everything looked as if it were covered in shrouds. It all looked quite ghostly.
It had been cool and misty earlier on but now, by mid morning, the sun had come out and the office was warm and stuffy. Molly went to open the window but when she returned to her desk she heard a faint creak like a footstep above her head, in Joe and Lena’s bedroom.
She held her breath and listened hard. There was another soft footstep.
Molly went out quietly into the hall and stood by the foot of the stair. Everything seemed peaceful. The clock in the hall chimed eleven.
Perhaps she had imagined the noise. After all, it was an old house and full of creaks and groans.
She went back to her desk and soon the only sound was the sharp tapping of the typewriter as she typed letters to accompany the brochures. Fifteen minutes later she decided to make a cup of tea.
She was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard another creak from upstairs. Someone was definitely prowling around. She made her way back out to the hall and climbed the stairs. Her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, she reached the landing without making a noise.
She didn’t like the idea that she was snooping so she called out, ‘Who’s there?’
There was no sound. She opened the bathroom door but the room was deserted.
She didn’t like to check the bedrooms as they were personal and off limits to her and her sense of common decency.
She moved to the end of the landing and was surprised to see another small staircase which seemed to lead to the back of the house. She stood looking down this stair but all was silent. There were four doors on the landing. Lena and Joe’s bedroom, Kenneth’s room, the bathroom and probably another bedroom.
She opened this door and was surprised to find it full of pictures, rugs and antique vases and ornaments. There were also lots of silver items ranging from tea services and picture frames to large ornamental bowls.
As she was shutting the door she noticed one of the paintings. It was the one bought by Nelly Marten on Saturday evening. Kenneth and Lena had obviously left it behind by mistake.
Feeling like a criminal she hurried downstairs. There was a small window on the stairs that overlooked the garden and, to her surprise, she saw Christie heading towards the sheds.
Surely he couldn’t be the prowler? He worked in the business and had every right to be around. So why creep around like a thief?
Molly decided to go out and see Christie. She could always make up some sort of tale to explain her visit.
Christie was checking a sheet of paper when she went in. She called out. ‘Hullo, I hope I’m not disturbing you?’
Christie looked alarmed and thrust th
e sheet of paper into his pocket. ‘You gave me a fright,’ he said, giving her a big smile. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’ve got letters to post and wondered how far the nearest post box is,’ she said.
He gave her a quick glance. ‘I think Lena likes to post the mail when they go to the shop. Or else she takes it to the post office in Newport.’
Molly put on a disappointed face. ‘Thanks. It’s just my own private letters but I’ll post them later.’
She turned to go but he said, ‘I’m making some coffee. Do you want to join me?’
‘I’ll have some tea if you have any.’
He grinned. ‘We have everything here. Even a tin of biscuits.’
He bustled about in the tiny kitchen and Molly heard the rattle of cups and the sound of the kettle boiling. She poked her head around the door. The room was compact but well fitted out. A wide bench ran along one side of the wall and a small gas cooker sat beside the other wall, next to a sink and draining board. There were three chairs grouped around a wooden table and it felt warm and comfy.
Joe and Lena were certainly thoughtful employers. Christie placed the two cups and some biscuits on the table and sat down in one of the chairs. He waved an arm towards the other chair. ‘Take the weight off your feet.’
Molly sat down on the edge of her seat. She wasn’t sure of this man. As she sipped her tea, Christie chatted about the previous Saturday evening.
‘I bet they were pleased with the sales they got. I mean that picture must be worth a fortune.’
Molly remained silent. She wasn’t going to discuss her employer’s business with a worker.
‘You got home safely?’ he asked. ‘It’s a narrow road especially in the dark.’
‘It wasn’t too dark. The summer nights are something I had forgotten when I was in Australia.’
‘That’s right, I remember you said you had emigrated to Australia with your sister. Your parents are going out there now, you said. What brought you back from the land of opportunity?’
Molly froze. There was no way she was going to tell him about Tom and all the heartache his death had caused.
‘My sister got married and I got homesick.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he said. ‘I miss Canada a lot but I’ll be going back sometime. Maybe you’ll go back to Australia, Molly.’
Never, she thought, but she smiled. ‘Maybe. Who knows where we’ll all end up?’
She decided to mention the footsteps. Just to see what he said. ‘When I was in the office I thought I heard someone upstairs.’
He gave her a blank look. ‘When was this?’
‘It was about an hour ago. I went up to check and saw you heading back to the sheds. Did you see anyone?’
He shook his head then suddenly said, ‘You must have heard me. I had to go upstairs to the bathroom.’
Molly made herself look relieved. ‘Oh that’s all right. I thought it was a burglar.’ She stood up. ‘Thanks for the tea. I’d better get back and start earning my wages.’
She walked quickly back to the house and by the time she reached her desk, she was shaking. Christie was obviously lying, but why?
On Saturday evening during the dinner, she had been in the sheds and during that time she had noticed Mike going into a small cloakroom next to the kitchen.
Why, she wondered, did Christie have to go into the house to use the bathroom when there was a perfectly adequate toilet and washbasin a few yards from his work?
She gave herself a shake. ‘Stop making a mystery out of nothing,’ she scolded herself mentally. ‘You’re here to do a job of work and the running of the business is nothing to do with you. If Christie is a thief then Joe and Lena will deal with him.’
She picked up the brochures and letters and placed them in their envelopes, leaving them in a neat pile by the side of the desk, ready for Lena to deal with on her return.
16
Edna was enjoying working at the seaside. John’s brother lived in a small house at the end of a narrow street. Ten years older than John, James was an artist. Several of his paintings, mostly seascapes and paintings of tiny villages perched on the top of cliffs hung on the walls of the house. Edna thought they were very well done and picturesque.
She had arrived the day before with her mum, Irene, and Billy and although they were a bit cramped in her Auntie Betty’s house, the excitement of being on holiday eclipsed any discomfort.
Betty lived in a council house ten minutes away from the centre of town. The three of them shared a small bedroom with Edna sharing a bed with her mum while Billy slept on a folding bed that was put away in the cupboard every morning.
Billy was so excited about this bed that every morning he watched the ritual of folding the sheets and putting everything away in fascination.
The routine was simple. Edna worked from nine o’clock till twelve then had the rest of the day to spend with her family.
The weather was sunny but there was a brisk breeze with meant, on her visits to the beach with Billy, she had to wear a cardigan over her summer frock. Irene came with them on the first day but decided it was too cold and said she would stay at home with Betty or maybe go to the shops.
John came with them one day. Sitting on a rug on the sand, they had a picnic of cheese sandwiches and a flask of tea. Billy had some milk, which Edna had carried in an old cough mixture bottle.
Afterwards, Billy wanted to go swimming in the outdoor pool and ran to join the crowds of children who were leaping gleefully into the cold water.
John seemed quite content to sit with her and watch Billy splash around in the shallow end.
Edna wasn’t sure how long John wanted to stay with his brother. ‘We can only stay another week with my auntie,’ she said. ‘She puts us up for the holiday fortnight but doesn’t have the room to accommodate us any longer.’
John was relieved. He had made up the pretext of coming here just to be with Edna. At night he would lie awake and try to determine his feelings for this very attractive woman who had come into his life.
‘Another week will suit me as well, Edna,’ he said, hoping his voice sounded steady. The fact was his book was almost three-quarters written and he was dreading the day when he would no longer have an excuse to see her.
They sat in companionable silence and watched a beauty contest taking place on the fringes of the pool. About twenty or so young girls paraded in their swimsuits in front of three judges.
Edna thought they must be cold as the wind had sharpened and now blew in from the North Sea. The overhead sun was warm but the wind seemed to go right through you. As her mum would say, ‘a wind that went through you rather than around you.’
John smiled. ‘Heavens I can see goose pimples on those lassies legs, and that one in the blue swimsuit has blue arms to match her costume.’
Edna laughed. ‘She’s not the only one.’ Billy had joined them and was shivering with the cold. Edna wrapped him in a towel.
The girls paraded once more around the edge of the pool and a round of applause went to the winner; a very pretty girl with long dark hair and a bright pink costume.
‘That’s another “Miss Arbroath,”’ said Edna. ‘It’s always an attraction for the holidaymakers. There’s great competition between the girls.’
Billy looked at his mum. ‘Did you win, Mum?’
Edna laughed. ‘Oh I’m not pretty enough to enter a beauty contest, Billy.’
They sat in silence for a few moments then John spoke.
‘I wondered if you would like to come out for a meal tonight, Edna. Just to say thank you for all your hard work?’
‘I’d love to. What time will you pick me up?’
‘About seven, if that’s all right?’
Edna gave this some thought. ‘Make it half past seven. I should have Billy ready for his bed by then.’ She told him about the folding bed and Billy’s attachment to it. ‘He lies in it and reads his comics for ages while we listen to the wireless. I think I’
ll have to ask Betty if we can take it home with us.’
Later, Edna spent ages getting ready. She rejected one frock because she thought it looked too plain but her wardrobe wasn’t a huge one and she didn’t really have a lot of choice.
Finally, she settled for her white dress that had red cherries printed all over the skirt and a pair of white sandals. Her mum watched as she scurried around and hoped Edna wouldn’t get hurt by this man’s attention. He seemed nice enough but you couldn’t tell someone’s nature with a few meetings.
John came dead on seven thirty and arrived in a car. ‘I borrowed my brother’s vehicle,’ he said. He had left his own car behind in Dundee and had arrived by train.
Billy came running downstairs when he heard the car stopping, his eyes like saucers. He was torn between watching the car take off and returning to the folding bed.
The car won and he stood on the doorstep as Edna was whisked away towards the hotel where John said he had booked a meal.
The hotel lay a few miles outside the town and was really posh. Edna wasn’t sure if she was dressed properly but most of the guests were dressed in summer clothes so she soon settled down and began to enjoy the evening.
He was full of stories about his time at sea. ‘I’ve been in the navy since I was sixteen,’ he said. ‘Then, during the war, I was on the Arctic convoys. I got married a few years before the war but I was always away from home. It was a lonely life for Kathleen but I loved my job and I thought our times together made up for all the times I was away.’ He sipped his coffee and Edna thought he looked sad. ‘Then five years ago, Kathleen became ill. I was away but when I got home she told me she had received treatment and I wasn’t to worry. I went back to my ship and she took a heart attack. By the time I got home she was gone.’
Edna reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘That’s terrible John. How did you cope?’
‘I gave up my job and stayed at home. Perhaps if I had done that earlier, Kathleen might have had a longer life. Now I’m writing my book.’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Talk about closing the stable after the horse has bolted.’