The door crashed open. Rocco, the Patient, Ruby and Lady Ballashiels ran inside accompanied by the gendarme from the security building. Mitford glanced at them and formed a weak smile.
He steadied his hand and pressed the button.
FRIDAY 10TH MAY 2013
The iron key had remained hanging on a nail in the wall of one of the basement rooms for longer than anyone could remember. The shank was damp, almost as if it were capable of producing its own sweat. She gripped it firmly and climbed the narrow servants’ staircase to the attic level. The ceiling was low here, paper hung limply in curls from the walls, windows were small and cracked.
She recalled the passionate entreaties of her family never to do what she was about to do. But that was in the past. She had every right to pay no attention to the ramblings and superstitions of those who went before her. What harm could it possibly do to open a cupboard? Besides, she knew full well what it contained.
She presented the key to the lock. It slid in with difficulty, and turned with a scraping sound that echoed through the roof space. As it clicked open a ridge of dust cascaded to the floorboards, making her cough. She stepped back and allowed the air to settle before pulling the door fully open.
There were three shelves inside. Two of them were stuffed with old books. She picked one up at random and flicked through it. A political work about a relatively unknown German leader and the ways in which he was trying to rebalance the German economy. Hitler’s Economic Miracle. She put it back and looked at the third shelf. It seemed to contain what she had expected to find. The film tin was tarnished, but it was intact and its label was still legible. She smiled to herself.
‘Mater? That you up here?’
She looked back and saw her son standing in the dim light of the window.
‘Just wanted to take a look at something, boy,’ she replied, closing the door and turning the key to secure it.
‘Come downstairs, old thing. Everyone’s waiting for you.’
Lady Ballashiels slipped the weighty key into her pocket and followed Ratty down to the kitchen. Ruby was making tea for everyone. Despite the wrong order in which tea was making contact with milk, Lady Ballashiels bit her lip. She had promised not to criticise her son’s best friend for at least a day, especially while everyone was so tired and tetchy after the long flight home, and besides she was too intrigued by her discovery to care about the minutiae of aristocratic behaviour. She looked at Ruby’s features – not an unattractive girl, perhaps someone who could be moulded to become the next Lady Ballashiels at a push, although it would be an uphill struggle to iron out those comprehensive school giveaways and that Guildford accent. The Patient had class, despite his peculiarities. She had become rather fond of his calm intelligence, and his inability to say a bad word about anyone.
When the four of them had been served with tea, she dribbled a little gin into her cup and held it up for a toast.
‘To the past, the present, and, not forgetting, the future.’
‘Hear, hear,’ said Ratty.
‘And may Mitford rot in a French jail for the rest of his days,’ added Ruby.
‘Has anyone called Rocco since we landed?’ asked the Patient.
‘There was an electro-mail thingy from him,’ said Ratty. ‘There’s a bit of paperwork to shuffle, but he thinks Charles will be released to the wild on Monday.’
‘Why not tomorrow?’ asked Ruby.
‘Weekend,’ explained Ratty. ‘And I think we owe Rocco a remote toasting. If he hadn’t arranged for the Ariane to be disconnected from the launch control computers we’d be living in an altogether different world.’
‘Or not living at all, boy.’
‘Quite, quite.’
‘It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Hitler is just a minor footnote in history, a forgotten leader amongst hundreds of others,’ said Ruby. ‘I can’t help feeling sad that it isn’t the case, but I know it’s the only moral option now.’
‘What will you do now, girl?’ asked Lady Ballashiels.
‘Back to Spain, I suppose. Finish the job I started at Empúries. Still a few goddesses to dig up, I shouldn’t wonder. After that, no idea.’
‘Why don’t you stay?’
Ruby looked at the old woman as if she were potty.
‘Where are you going to be?’ she blurted out.
‘I’m going to live here. With Justin. And mister Patient there. And you know what, girl? I’d like it if you would stay here too.’
Now it was Ratty’s turn to look aghast at his mother.
‘What is it Rat – er, I mean, Justin? Wouldn’t you like that?’ Ruby asked.
‘On the contrary, it would make me the happiest Earl in the land. Feel rather ashamed that I never asked you myself, that’s all.’
She put down her tea and gave Ratty a hug.
‘I’d love to hang out here. Just for a while. Might be fun. Like old days at Cambridge.’
He hugged her back.
‘And what will you do?’ Ruby asked her host.
‘Still somewhat low on readies,’ replied Ratty.
‘You’ll find a job?’
‘Good lord, no. Working for a living? Not my cup of Earl Grey at all. Had a more interesting scheme in mind. Mater and I were discussing it on the flight home. Rather an exciting prospect. It’s a bit of a treasure hunt, actually.’
‘Right,’ said Ruby. ‘Because your treasure hunts always succeed, don’t they?’
‘This time it can’t fail,’ he told her. ‘Mater thinks that if I work with you on this, then, with our combined skills, we could find the lost treasure of the legendary millionaire priest, Bérenger Saunière.’
‘Saunière?’ she echoed. ‘As in Rennes-le-Château? As in the latest looney aspirations of Rocco? It’s just a wildly inflated conspiracy theory based on greed, lies and optimism. There’s no treasure there, Ratty. I’ve already read up on it.’
‘Don’t close your mind, Ruby. Rocco got me thinking. There’s a frightful amount of historic gold unaccounted for. What about the lost treasure of Jerusalem? The gold of the Merovingian kings? The hidden wealth of the Cathars? What if Rocco’s right? What if Saunière is the key to finding it?’
‘Right, children,’ shouted Lady Ballashiels, as if calling a riotous classroom to order, ‘I can see Ruby is going to take some convincing. There’s a reason why I believe you have what it takes to succeed in this quest because there is something in this house that will furnish you with a unique advantage.’
‘Don’t tell me you think Saunière stashed his gold here at Stiperstones?’ asked Ruby.
‘What rot. I don’t suppose anyone here is a fan of Charlie Chaplin?’
All three avoided eye contact with her.
‘Many years ago I was told about a tin of old film in the attic. There’s something odd in the reel. Some sort of anomaly. And it has a connection to the Saunière story. I’d like you all to take a look at it. Justin, prepare the projector. We are shortly to have our first film evening.’
THE END
Published by Accent Press Ltd 2017
www.accentpress.co.uk
Copyright © Stewart Ferris 2017
The right of Stewart Ferris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of Accent Press Ltd.
ISBN 9781786151865
eISBN 9781786151889
The Dali Diaries (The Ballashiels Mysteries Book 2) Page 30