Where Memories Are Made

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Where Memories Are Made Page 5

by Lynda Page


  Martha said under her breath, ‘Well, the piece I had was on the dry side, if you ask me.’

  Marion shot at her, ‘What was that you said?’

  Martha Evans gave an innocent shrug. ‘I never said anything, Marion. You’re hearing things.’

  Regardless of her friend’s denial Marion still looked at her suspiciously for a moment before she returned her attention to Jackie. ‘Now you get out of here and don’t come back unless …’

  But Jackie wasn’t going anywhere until she had answers to questions she needed to ask and cut in, ‘I wondered where you got the eggs from that went into your cakes?’

  It was Martha who answered. ‘From the Co-op, same as we all do in our street.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Marion backed her up. ‘Going to blame the Co-op for poisoning us now, are you?’ She began herding Jackie towards the door. ‘Now once again, out with you, lady, and don’t come back …’

  Cyril Evans, who had been sitting on his bed all this time listening to proceedings suddenly piped up, ‘But you didn’t get the eggs for the cake from the Co-op, Marion.’

  She stopped and turned back to face him, looking puzzled. ‘I never get eggs from anywhere else, Cyril, so what are you blabbering on about?’

  ‘But last night you called round to ask if we had any spare because when you went shopping earlier for your sandwich fillings you forgot to get the eggs for the cakes and the corner shop had shut by then. Martha was upstairs packing at the time so it was me that answered the door to you. I went off to look if we had any in the pantry, only we didn’t as we’d had the last two that morning for our breakfast and Martha didn’t buy any more, what with us coming away for a week on our holidays, so we couldn’t help you.’

  Jackie could have sworn she saw a flash of worry in Marion’s eyes before she said matter-of-factly, ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. I’d forgotten about that.’

  ‘So where did you end up getting the eggs for your cakes?’ Martha asked sharply.

  ‘Oh, er … I can’t remember.’

  ‘Marion, we’re talking about something you did less than twenty hours ago. ’Course you can remember. Now where did you get those eggs from?’

  She started shuffling her feet uncomfortably. ‘Well … er … after trying a few others who didn’t have any spare either, I … er … went to see Nelly Brown. Miserable old bugger could see how desperate for them I was and charged me more than the Co-op does.’

  At this news Martha shut her eyes and let out a loud groan of despair. ‘You bought eggs from her? Marion, no one buys eggs from Nelly Brown because people have got ill from eating her eggs before. Only those that don’t know that buy from her.’

  Marion said defensively, ‘Well, I didn’t know.’

  Martha eyed her suspiciously. ‘Well, if you didn’t, why didn’t you have a slice of the cake?’

  ‘I’ve already told you, because I was full from my sandwiches.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I think it was because you did know and didn’t want to risk eating it. Well, you’d better go and tell everyone that it’s you to blame for poisoning them and nothing to do with Jolly’s. They’re not going to be very happy with you, just like I’m not, so for the rest of the holiday you’d better make yourself scarce.’

  Marion almost choked as she cried, ‘Well, there’s absolutely no proof it was the eggs in my cakes that caused the poisoning. They looked all right when I cracked them open and didn’t smell off, so it’s not fair I should take the blame.’

  Martha said, ‘Well, we’ll just have to prove it one way or the other then, won’t we? Go and get the tin with the remains of the cake in it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’re going to eat a piece, then you’re going to stay put here where we can keep an eye on you and see what happens.’ Martha said to Jackie, ‘And you’d better stay too, so you can be a witness. If Marion becomes ill then it’s the cake that’s the cause. If not then it has to be something prepared by Jolly’s and we get our money back and a coach home. Is that fair enough?’

  Jackie nodded. ‘It is.’

  It didn’t seem that she was going to have her night out with Keith, Ginger and some of the other staff, dancing the night away at Groovy’s celebrating Helen’s birthday. But this had to be settled one way or the other.

  Marion almost choked on the cake, but under the watchful eye of Martha Evans, Jackie and Cyril had no choice but to finish every crumb. While they all waited to see what happened, sitting on Cyril’s bed, he and Jackie played game after game of knockout whist while Marion sat anxiously on the other end and Martha dozed on and off in her own bed. It was approaching eight o’clock and Jackie was just about to lay down a winning hand when Marion’s face suddenly turned pale and she clutched her stomach, issuing a low painful groan. Then as fast as her rotund body would carry her, she made a dash for the door, yanked it open and disappeared in the direction of the toilet block.

  Martha roused herself from a doze just in time to witness Marion’s departure. She looked over at Jackie shame-faced and said quietly, ‘Well, it seems we have our answer. I can only apologise for blaming Jolly’s without considering for a minute that it was something we’d had before we arrived here.’

  Jackie smiled at her. ‘I’m just glad we’ve got to the bottom of it, Mrs Evans. I hope you all recover soon and enjoy the rest of your holiday here with us.’

  The woman smiled. ‘Thanks, love. One thing is for sure: Marion won’t be getting any more eggs from Nelly Brown!’

  Mortally relieved that the situation was resolved, Jackie had arrived at the camp’s row of shops on her way back to the office when it struck her that she really ought to go and inform Chef Brown that his kitchen was no longer under suspicion. She might still catch him before he finished his shift.

  The staff entrance was still open so she knew Chef Brown was about. Bracing herself, she went inside. She found him in the process of locking up his office.

  Hearing footsteps clicking across the tiled floor, he spun his large body around to check who it was invading his kitchen at this time of night. Seeing it was Jackie, to her surprise, instead of clouding with anger his face filled with shame. As she reached him, he said, ‘Ah, Jackie love, before you say anything, I want to apologise for my behaviour towards you earlier. Of course, the first place that would be under suspicion when there’s an outbreak of food poisoning is the kitchen. I just took the accusation personally, that’s all, because I pride myself on running such a tight ship that nothing like this is allowed to happen. After you left and I’d calmed down, I felt terrible and wanted to come and apologise straight away. But I couldn’t get away and by now I thought you would have gone home. I was going to come and see you first thing in the morning. Please accept my apologies. What I should have done, instead of blowing my top, was told you to get the health people in to check the kitchen over and for them to clear it or condemn it, as no matter how diligent I am …’

  She interjected, ‘There’s no need for that, Chef Brown. I’ve found out where the contaminated food came from and it wasn’t your kitchen.’ Jackie told him about the suspect eggs.

  He looked relieved. ‘Well, to be honest, despite doing all I can to prevent anything like this happening, I was worried I’d let myself down somewhere, so I’m really pleased to hear that. I appreciate your coming to tell me. I’ll sleep well tonight. I expect you will too.’

  Jackie smiled at him. ‘I certainly will. Goodnight, Chef.’

  He responded accordingly before turning back to finish locking up his office for the night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was well after eight-thirty by the time Jackie arrived in the office to collect her belongings before going home. She was most surprised to see Al still sitting behind his desk. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked him. ‘Your mother must be worried out of her wits and your dinner will be shrivelled up with keeping hot for so long.’

  He told her, ‘Oh, I don’t live at home. I�
��ve got a room with an old lady in Skegness.’ He then added jocularly, ‘Believe me, the evening meal she cooks me always looks shrivelled up and is never hot, no matter whether I’m on time or not.’ He then very obviously changed the subject. ‘Mr Rose left as usual on the dot of five-thirty and I didn’t like to leave until you came back, just in case you needed me for any reason. I kept myself busy clearing up the filing.’

  Naturally inquisitive, Jackie had to stop herself from asking why Al didn’t live at home. One of the very valuable lessons she had learned from Rhonnie was that some people took offence at having their private lives queried. If there was information they wanted made public knowledge they would voluntarily impart it. To Jackie’s mind that was all well and good, but if they didn’t volunteer the information this only opened up a lot more questions, one being … what were they hiding? Come to think of it, Al had worked with her for over a week now and she knew next to nothing about him. He had listened to her while she had chatted away as they worked, all about her widowed mother, brother and boyfriend Keith, and happenings at the camp during the years she had worked here, both hilarious and tragic, but had never once reciprocated by telling her anything about his life outside Jolly’s. Maybe that was because he felt he had nothing of interest to tell her. Jackie felt it unlikely that she would ever discover the reason, though, as Al had only a few more days of working here before Drina and Rhonnie were due to return and then his temporary placement with Jolly’s would be over.

  She smiled at him. ‘I appreciate your staying behind tonight, Al. Make sure you put down the extra hours you’ve worked on your agency time-sheet.’ In light of the fact that he had stayed behind for her sake, she felt it only right to offer him a lift back to his lodgings on her scooter, despite the fact that she was desperate to get home herself because Keith would be waiting for her.

  She knew he’d be upset that her having to work later had scuppered their night out as he’d been looking forward to it, but was sure he’d be understanding once she told him the reason. She pictured Keith in her mind’s eye. He was four years older than Jackie at twenty-five years old, five foot ten in his stockinged feet, fair-haired, handsome in a rugged way, with an easygoing nature. He was a qualified mechanic and worked for a local garage. He had no idea who his father was as he had been born illegitimate to his then seventeen-year-old mother who had abandoned him at six months old, stealing off in the middle of the night, leaving him with her own widowed mother to raise and never being heard from since.

  Jackie’s own mother had only been fifteen and her father seventeen when they’d had to get married as a baby was on the way. They had lived from week to week as her father hadn’t earned a great deal from his job as a builder’s labourer, but regardless they had been extremely happy together, their family complete when Robby had arrived four years later. But when Jackie was only six the happy family was ripped apart by the untimely death of her father, when scaffolding that had not been properly erected had collapsed and toppled him fifteen feet on to the hard ground below. He’d lived for four days until internal injuries had killed him. Her mother, a petite, extremely pretty woman of only thirty-six now, had never looked at another man since, but devoted her life to raising her children as best she could, doing whatever menial low-paid jobs she could land, mostly cleaning. Life had eased for her once both her children were at work and contributing to the family finances. Instead of having to labour all hours, now it was eight until five-thirty in the local bedding factory, in the packing and dispatching department.

  Jackie therefore had experienced growing up without one parent and felt deep sympathy and understanding for Keith who had grown up with neither. Very importantly to Jackie, who adored her mother, Keith got on with her like a house on fire and treated Robby like his own younger brother. When she had first met him at a local pub one night while she had been out with her friends and he with his, Jackie had instantly taken a fancy to Keith and made it her business to wangle her way into conversation with him. She had asked him why someone hadn’t snapped him up before now and he’d told her that it was because he’d never met anyone he’d thought enough of to feel serious about. She was hoping that now he had. After eighteen months of going out together, she felt it was only a matter of time before he would ask her to marry him.

  Al was a very well-spoken young man and from the way he conducted himself it was obvious he’d come from a good background, so Jackie was shocked when he prodded her in the back to prompt her to stop on the corner of a crumbling street of terraced houses in a run-down area of Skegness. Although he had told her he lived in lodgings, she had expected them to be in a far more salubrious area than this one.

  Having thanked her for the lift home, Al went off down the street and Jackie was in the process of turning the Lambretta around when a man coming out of the off licence on the opposite corner caught her attention. He was tall and thin, shaggy-haired and thickly bearded. Shabbily dressed, he was clutching a brown carrier bag which obviously held bottles of either beer or spirits. She did not recognise him yet he was still vaguely familiar somehow. She watched him as he turned the corner and disappeared. For the life of her Jackie couldn’t place him and so put his familiarity down to the fact that the man just reminded her of someone else, whoever it might be.

  A while later Jackie entered the back door of her home to be greeted by the sight of a pan bubbling away on the stove, keeping the meal on the plate sitting above it hot. She could hear the sounds of her mother’s and Keith’s laughter coming from the sitting room. As Jackie stripped off her coat a warm glow filled her. She had friends whose parents did not get on with their boyfriends for various reasons, mostly because the young men weren’t considered good enough for the girls, and it put a strain on the young couples’ relationships. Jackie felt herself fortunate to have a mother who thoroughly approved of her boyfriend and a boyfriend who thoroughly approved of his girlfriend’s mother.

  Using a cloth to take her plate of food off the pan, and collecting a knife and fork, Jackie went in to join them.

  The next morning when she updated Harold Rose over the food poisoning incident, all the response she got from him, while he stared over her shoulder as if at someone else, was a cool thank you and then a prompt dismissal back to her work. Jackie felt her contempt for his idea of how to manage a business rising several notches.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was not surprising that Jackie hadn’t recognised the man she had seen coming out of the off licence. The last time she had seen him he’d looked completely different. Then he’d been a lardy, heavy-jowled young man. Now he had no spare fat on him. Twelve months in prison, for trying to sell back a gold cigarette case and lighter to the police inspector whose house he’d unwittingly stolen them from, was the cause of the change in him. Encarcerated with hardened criminal types who terrified him, Michael Jolly’s blubber had melted from him. But all those long nights spent staring up at the ceiling from his top bunk had afforded the deeply unpleasant man plenty of time to formulate a plan that would see him successfully carry out his threat to reclaim what he felt was rightfully his: Jolly’s camp and all the profits it generated.

  Michael hadn’t come up with the plan completely by himself; he didn’t possess the intelligence to plan anything more involved than a simple burglary. He’d almost despaired of ever coming up with anything that stood the remotest chance of success, when while he was swabbing out the bathrooms one morning he was privy to the conversation of two old lags who’d come in to use the facilities … each thinking it extremely amusing to urinate all over his clean floor while trying to outdo the other with details of the best scam in their illustrious past. What one old lag told the other had struck a chord deep within Michael and every night since then he had lain awake thinking about it, and how he could adapt it to suit his own purposes.

  After months of thinking of nothing else, he finally felt positive he had the ideal scheme. He couldn’t do it on his own, but one thing he’d learned
in prison was that there were always others willing to do anything, no questions asked, if the price was right. All Michael had to do was pick the right people for his purposes, get the money to pay them, and then he could put his plan into operation. And that’s what he was doing now: amassing his working capital by ways that had stood him in good stead before, but this time doubly conscious he must not get caught. He begrudged the time he was having to put his plan on hold; he wanted to be living the high life right now, the kind of life he should always have been living had it not been unjustly denied him. But he’d waited this long so a while more would not kill him. And then, when he did finally get his hands on his inheritance it would be doubly sweet.

  People would think him witless to return to an area where he’d been notorious in the past for his criminal activities and which he’d had to leave in a hurry while he readied himself to carry out his plan, but he knew he was safe coming back to this area due to the dramatic change in his appearance. Sometimes he himself did a double take before the mirror, not yet having grown completely used to the thin face that stared back at him instead of the old grossly fat one. He was positive no one else would recognise him. The main reason he’d come back was that he knew the locals gossiped and that way he could find out everything that was going on in Jolly’s. Forewarned was forearmed. He had already discovered to his great delight that his half-brother Dan had recently been killed in an accident. This was going to make Michael’s quest so much easier.

 

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