Harnessing Peacocks by Mary Wesley

Author:Mary Wesley [Wesley, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-5055-4
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-10-02T23:35:00+00:00

Eighteen

JIM HUXTABLE LEFT HIS car in the pub car park and went into the bar, ordered a pint of bitter and stood drinking it, glad to stretch his legs after the long drive. ‘Got any sandwiches?’ he asked the landlord.

‘Brown bread with crab, brown bread with beef, brown bread with turkey.’

As he ate he listened to the talk of the storm, the street up the hill flooded. He pricked his ears. So, Bernard’s friend of the paperweights was in trouble. As he finished his sandwich he watched a black youth and a white boy arguing with the barman.

‘Ya, ya, he’s under age. Beer’s not for him, it’s for the helpers,’ the youth was expostulating to the barman. ‘Council blokes who helped at Miss Tremayne’s. His ma wants to give them a beer.’

‘So long as you know under eighteens can’t be served.’

The youth burst out laughing. He nodded towards Jim. ‘He’s a dealer, not a copper. Come on, Giles.’ He loaded Giles with beer cans. ‘See you.’

‘Have to be careful,’ said the barman to no one in particular.

Jim walked up the street. The wind was drying the surface of the road. A magpie from a nearby park hopped beside the gutter, searching for titbits, flew off sideways. Jim stopped outside Hebe’s house, hesitated, rang the bell. If she came to the door he would get the pang of disappointment he had grown to expect. He pressed his thumb on the bell, saw a curtain move. Was she nervous? What was she afraid of? He turned his head. The curtain moved again. A tortoiseshell cat peered out, fixing him with a green stare. Jim gave up.

Across the street the door of the owner of the paperweights was propped open. Jim knocked. A weak voice from upstairs called. ‘Who is it?’

‘Jim Huxtable. I came to see you a while ago. Friend of Bernard’s.’

‘Come up.’

She was in bed, the paperweights on a table beside her. She looked frail.

‘I see you’ve had a flood.’

‘The boys and Hannah mopped up. I’m waiting for something to eat. Sit down.’

Jim sat by the bed. ‘Still not for sale.’ He eyed the paperweights.

‘Not for sale.’ She smiled, observing him.

‘Know me the next time,’ he said. ‘Are you ill?’ It seemed strange that with her ground floor in a mess she should lie so calmly in bed.

‘Just a bit. Better now. The chocolate boy climbed in and saved me. A little bit of heart trouble, that’s all.’

‘Is the doctor coming?’

‘Don’t want him, my niece—’

‘The dark girl?’

‘No, Hannah, the fair girl. Do you know Hebe, then?’ Amy’s voice was suddenly sharp.

‘No, I don’t. I just wondered whether she had any antiques to sell. I called at all the other houses. I thought I’d—’

‘Hebe has no antiques. She wouldn’t sell antiques, not now.’ Amy was weakly aggressive.

‘Did she once?’

‘Sandwich coming up, Auntie.’ Feet on the stairs, Giles hurrying into the room. ‘Mum says would you like anything else.’ Giles caught sight of Jim. ‘Hullo, saw you in the pub.’ He put the plate of sandwiches beside Amy.

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