Meanwhile Gardens Read online

  As in the others a kitchen opened off the large central space. On each side of the kitchen, large enough for a stove, fridge and small table, was a door leading to a small bedroom. At the top of the stairs an opening led to a bathroom that contained a sink and an old, rather battered, claw-footed bath.

  Wayne looked around. He immediately spotted the hole in the corner of the high ceiling where the pigeons came in and sometimes, judging by at least two feathered skeletons, failed to leave.

  As he peered into the two small bedrooms on either side of the kitchen Auntie Em whispered to Ollie, “I bet he knocks on the wall.” As if on cue they heard a series of taps. Auntie Em rolled her eyes, “Cowboy!” she hissed, unaware of Candida’s recent expense in Covent Garden.

  “Give him a chance Auntie Em.”

  Wayne moved quickly through the sitting room to the tiny bathroom.

  “Where are you working now Mr Watson?”

  Wayne had already prepared the answer to this inevitable question. “Just round the corner on Portobello. D’ye know the old greasy spoon opposite the florist?” he returned to the large central space.

  Auntie Em and Ollie nodded.

  “Well it’s being refurbished, all bleached beech and bare brick – there’s alot of that round here isn’t there?”

  “It’s a bit far to park your van isn’t it?” Auntie Em asked.

  “When the clampers are out it’s any port in a storm I’m afraid Ms Nelson.” Wayne gave the room another once-over, “The only major thing is the damp in the bathroom ceiling which’ll need to be proofed and replastered. Apart from that, and the loose tiles which shouldn’t be a problem, everything is pretty much surface stuff – nothing a good clean and a couple of coats of paint wouldn’t put right.”

  Ollie looked pleadingly at Auntie Em.

  “Should take ten days/two weeks maximum.”

  Auntie Em moved down the stairs followed by the two young men. She strolled in thought to Wayne’s blue pick-up, “Give us some references and a written quotation Mr Watson, in the meantime why don’t you two – ” unseen by Wayne she winked at Ollie, “ – exchange numbers.”

  Wayne slung himself into the driver’s seat of the pick-up and rooted around in the glove compartment. “I’m fairly sure I gave out my last card yesterday,” Wayne scribbled his number on a scrap of paper.

  “I haven’t even got one,” Ollie said apologetically.

  Wayne smiled as he handed over the scrap of paper, “You’ll have to phone me then won’t you?”

  Ollie was sure his gulp must have been audible.

  “Where do you live Mr Watson?” Auntie Em continued her questioning.

  “Dagenham.”

  “And you’d travel in every day?”

  “If I got the job I’d try and find somewhere local to overnight in.”

  Ollie could feel Wayne’s eyes burning into him.

  Wayne slammed the driver’s door shut. A quick wave and he reversed slowly out of the mews.

  “Well at least he didn’t whistle through his teeth.” Auntie Em turned to Ollie, “Let me know what his quote is but I’m not going above seven fifty. That’s final.”

  Auntie Em was nearly at her front door when Ollie called down the mews. “Thanks for getting his number for me.”

  “I’d watch him, angel. Those Dagenham boys – they’re at least three stops past Barking.”

  Ollie waited three days before calling. When he did he made sure to have Auntie Em next to him.

  The phone was answered on the third ring.

  “Wayne? It’s Ollie here from – ”

  Wayne cut him off, “Hi mate! I thought you’d found someone else for the job.”

  Ollie was pleasantly taken aback at the warmth of the greeting.

  “I was going to stop in but I’ve been on the other side of town,” the builder continued.

  So that explains why he hadn’t seen the pick-up, Ollie thought. He had wandered past the restaurant site several times a day for the past few days hoping to bump into Wayne, but hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the builder.

  “I could do the job for seven hundred and fortyfive all in.”

  “One second,” Ollie put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Auntie Em. “Seven forty five?”

  Auntie Em returned his look with more than a hint of suspicion, “You didn’t tell him he couldn’t go above seven fifty did you sweetness?”

  “No!” Ollie grinned. “I thought about it though.”

  “Well, if he’s useless we’ll know soon enough. When can he start?”

  Ollie uncovered the mouthpiece. “When can you start Wayne?” he tried to keep from sounding overenthusiastic.

  “Monday alright for you?”

  “Monday?” Ollie mouthed to Auntie Em who grimaced her consent.

  “Monday it is then,” Ollie, smiling, clicked off the phone.

  Auntie Em sighed, “There’s something about him....”

  “Isn’t there just?”

  “I know lust is blind, angel, but I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Auntie Em shook her head. “It’s probably nothing,” she muttered, but something was definitely troubling her about the builder.

  Wayne yawned, stretched and got out of bed. He could get used to these jobs and this one was turning out a treat. Candida Hapshill was paying him for information on, and the possible retrieval of, some stupid painting AND he was going to be paid for doing a glorified cleaning job.

  He looked at himself admiringly in the full-length mirror and smiled, “You’re a genius Wayne Watson, there’s no doubt about it.”

  12

  LIES DAMN LIES

  Today was the first day that Rion was officially allowed out of the house. And she was going to take full advantage of it. In what she hoped would become a regular habit Rion collected Hum from Ollie and walked Auntie Gem along the canal to work. She breathed in lungfuls of air, happy that the painful wheeze had finally gone.

  They had just passed Ha’penny Bridge when Rion saw the first one.

  “What’s that Auntie Gem?” Rion pointed to something floating amongst the rushes.

  Auntie Gem moved closer to the canal bank. Squinting past the cans and burger cartons in the reeds she saw a greyish/black object bobbing in the water. “It’s a pipe, child, rubber tubing or whatnot.”

  Rion moved closer but pulled back suddenly when Auntie Gem’s rubber tubing turned belly up to reveal a white-scaled underside.

  “Ugh!” Rion could see that, apart from having scales, the object had the ugliest of faces.

  Auntie Gem could now see the thing for what it was. “It’s an eel,” she chuckled. “One of the fisherman probably caught it and threw it back.”

  “What a waste!” Rion said disgusted both by the loss of life and by the eel’s countenance which was one of the most hideous things she had ever seen.

  “A heron’ll get it, or a gull. Someone will have it for supper don’t you worry!”

  Rion noticed several other dead fish on their way up to the bridge at the top of Ladbroke Grove but didn’t mention it to Auntie Gem who was rattling on about her childhood in Jamaica.

  Arm in arm they walked past Canalside House where Hum, in one of his favourite tricks, ran down the gentle slope to scatter the pigeons being fed outside Sainsburys. The dog carried on to harass the swans and geese who hissed and spat at his impudence.

  “He’d better go on the lead, child,” Auntie Gem advised. “All the young are out once we’re over Cardiac Arrest.”

  “Cardiac Arrest?”

  Auntie Gem gestured to the end of the walkway where a sharply rising humpback bridge spanned the entrance to a lock. “That’s what I call it anyway.”

  With the chunky old Nokia Ollie had given Rion feeling secure, but heavy, in her pocket, they huffed and puffed over Cardiac Arrest and were soon on the green of the towpath once more. Auntie Gem was right. On this section proud pairs of ducks and moorhens swam with their tiny, fluffy offspring. Further on two gees
e shared duties over a creche of at least a dozen goslings.

  Auntie Gem and Rion watched as the baby geese, heads down, tugged and pulled at the grass on the towpath. In a sudden burst Hum tugged out of Rion’s grasp and raced for the birds.

  “Hum!” Rion turned to Auntie Gem in anguish, “The poor birds what’ll – ”

  “It’s not the birds I’d be worried about, child.”

  They watched as the young dog, grinning from ear to ear, raced for the birds.

  Upon seeing Hum the two creche-keeping geese reared up in the water. At their honk of alarm their charges scurried for the canal. All except one who continued to tug at the grass. With the lead flying Isadora Duncan style behind him, the dog charged at the unfortunate gosling that kept feeding unawares.

  Rion clutched Auntie Gem’s arm. “Just our luck,” she wailed, “the poor thing’s deaf!”

  “Hum!” they both called as loud as they could but the dog had no intention of stopping.

  The honking of the two guardians had now spread up and the canal bank, all the geese united in an abrasive chorus of alarm.

  Hum was nearly upon the gosling when the more fiercesome of the two guardians reared up onto the bank. With beating wings and neck stretched like Concorde the avenging goose reached its doomed charge just ahead of the dog. Spitting and jabbing like a cobra the protector sheltered the gosling and herded it back to the canal.

  Having the time of his life Hum continued to dance on the riverbank, barking at the geese who hissed their rage from a safe distance.

  “He’ll learn sometime won’t he Auntie Gem?”

  The old lady patted her tight curls as if worried some had gone astray. “Or he’ll be taught a lesson. If they’re lucky the young always are.”

  Rion ran to the excited hound, caught the lead and dragged him away.

  Sporadic honking followed Auntie Gem and Rion as the geese gabbled amongst themselves, looking forward to the day when they would get their revenge.

  On an instinct Gorby had come down to the chamber beside the canal. He had come here nearly every day since the girl’s disappearance but today somehow felt different.

  Gorby stared through the rustic fencing at the willowy girl and the small black woman on the towpath opposite.

  He knew she would return. He was glad he hadn’t had to wait too long.

  Work still hadn’t finished on Mitre Bridge. It seemed the labourers had been strengthening the structure and nearby railway wall for months.

  Auntie Gem watched as the young girl and Hum made their way through the gauntlet of admiring comments and wolf-whistles. Next time she would make sure Rion didn’t accompany her this far. Gem knew Ollie would probably welcome such attention, and Nicky could certainly handle it, but Rion – it wasn’t right for a young girl, no matter how well intentioned.

  Upon entering the Peters & Peters compound she waved as always to Mr Henry, the company guard – or Chief of Security as he was now called. He normally smiled and waved back but this time he came rushing out from his cabin.

  “Miss Gemma,” the guard seemed unusually anxious, “the boss, he’s in a terrible mood today. He’s already fired Miss Doreen.”

  Auntie Gem was not unduly worried. Doreen always took the brunt of Edwin’s anger. She was fired at least once a month from the secretarial pool. It didn’t seem to change anything. Doreen simply moved her things behind the large plastic ficus at the end of the office and did her work from there. Edwin normally calmed down within a couple of hours and had forgotten everything by the following day.

  “And Miss Kitty,” the guard wrung his hands as if drying them above an air vent.

  “And Kitty?”

  This was different. Kitty was Auntie Gem’s assistant and the reason why Gem could come in mid-morning instead of half past eight with the rest of them.

  “But she’s still here?”

  “No!” Henry opened his eyes wide. “He walked her out himself!”

  This was even more unusual. Edwin never threw people off the grounds. Quickening her pace ever so slightly Auntie Gem crossed the yard towards the main building.

  The change in feeling was apparent when she came out of the lift on the first floor. There was none of the chatty buzz that normally greeted her. Apart from a few muted phonecalls all worked in silence. From here she could just make out Doreen in her place of banishment behind the giant plastic plant.

  Eyes pleaded with her as the trolley slowly squeaked towards Mr Edwin’s office. Even before she was halfway there Gem could hear her boss’ muffled angry voice.

  Sitting rigidly at her desk outside was Miss Collins, Edwin’s personal assistant. The normally irrepressible PA waved Gemma over.

  “Is it as bad as I’ve been told?”

  “Worse!” Miss Collins replied her voice just above a whisper. “Have you any arsenic?”

  Auntie Gem chuckled, “He’d taste it Liz.”

  “It’s for me silly!”

  Auntie Gem gave a hoot, which she quickly suppressed. “What started it off?”

  “At first we thought it was about Lady Peters but then something arrived in the post. Something he wouldn’t even let me see.”

  “And Kitty?”

  The PA waved her hands to minimise the firing, “I’ve spoken to her already. She’ll be back on Monday.”

  Again the rumbling of Edwin’s voice carried through the office walls.

  “Who’s in there now?”

  “Mr Paul but he shouldn’t be – ”

  At that the office door swung open and the young assistant manager strode out, his face like thunder.

  Miss Collins raised her eyebrows, “ – too long.” As Auntie Gem wheeled the trolley in Miss Collins stage-whispered after her, “Don’t forget to call him Sir!”

  Sir Edwin looked up from his desk when he heard the squeaking trolley. “Ah Gemma, it’s you.” He returned to the papers on his desk, “I had to let Kitty go.”

  Knowing her assistant would be back on Monday Auntie Gem pacified her boss, “I’m sure she deserved it.” After a pause she added, “Sir Edwin.”

  Sir Edwin’s naturally suspicious features narrowed further at this unexpected acquiescence. After a worrying few seconds he smiled, “That’s the first time you’ve used my title Gemma.”

  Auntie Gem bobbed her head in a slight bow of deference, “Sir Ed-win,” she repeated but this time separated his name in two in the Jamaican lilt he liked. She poured a milky tea, put three digestive biscuits on a plate and placed them in front of him.

  “Everybody says you’re in a filthy mood,” again she paused before his name, “Sir Edwin.”

  Looking at the honest face of the lady who had worked first for his father and now for him, Sir Edwin Peters sighed. Holding a large brown envelope he stood up and paced along the huge window that looked over the canal.

  “It’s just some damn scientist,” the chairman of Peters & Peters shook the envelope in his hand, “has made allegations – without any evidence to back them up I might add – about us. They’re lies, damn lies, and he’s threatening to print them.”

  Auntie Gem shook her head, “Well if they’re lies,” she began.

  “It doesn’t matter if they’re lies or not. If he prints them it would harm us.”

  Sir Edwin used the ‘us’ when he meant ‘me’. When there was trouble to be shared he used the collective pronoun, the singular when there was glory. “Some of it would stick, it always does,” he said glumly.

  “Can’t you sue?”

  Sir Edwin didn’t care if his sigh was deemed demeaning. He spoke slowly as if explaining something very difficult to a very simple person, “That would take ages by which time the damage would have been done. We would only get a retraction anyway – by then it would be too late.”

  “Bribery?”

  Her boss smiled icily but said nothing.

  Auntie Gem thought it best to change the subject. She knew the thought of food often improved his temperament. “What will you
be having for lunch?”

  Sir Edwin felt some of his bad mood coming back. “It’s Friday isn’t it?” he snapped.

  Auntie Gem nodded.

  “What do I always have on Fridays?”

  “Fish.”

  “You know how I value tradition. I’m not changing now.” Sir Edwin felt a familiar burning pain in his bladder. Flinging the envelope on his desk in dismissal he walked quickly across the office to his adjoining bathroom and closed the door.

  Never one to let something private of Edwin’s escape her attention, Auntie Gem went over to his desk. She opened the brown envelope to find it contained a bound dossier. As she was about to open it she heard the toilet flush. Sliding the dossier back in the envelope she hurried back to her trolley.

  Just in time.

  Sir Edwin came back to find Auntie Gem poring over the cups and saucers. Much as he liked her, well as much as he could like any of his staff, she did tend to hang around.

  “I thought you’d gone,” he said in a tone that implied he wished she had.

  Auntie Gem straightened up. Smiling she placed a small white bowl on her boss’ desk, “Cheer up.”

  She was almost out the door when Sir Edwin called her back, “Gemma.”

  Auntie Gem turned back into the office.

  “The fish,” her boss asked nervously, “it’s not caught locally is it?”

  “I don’t think so Sir Edwin, but I’ll ask cook.”

  Auntie Gem chuckled as she left the office.

  “He’s having a bad day alright,” she said to Miss Collins.

  The PA rolled her eyes, “We knew that Gem!”

  “He was worried the fish for lunch was caught in the canal!”

  Sir Edwin didn’t notice the envelope was in a different place on top of his desk. Instead his eyes were drawn to the bowl the tea-lady had left. It contained his very favourite things: fruit pastilles.

  13

  IT’S NOT UNUSUAL

  The weekend had dragged by for Ollie but finally it was Monday morning. He could hear Wayne whistling the theme from Bewitched as he cleared out number lA, right next door.