Her London Season by A.W. Hartoin

Author:A.W. Hartoin [Hartoin, A.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The fat little thief was named John Bricke, and he hadn’t escaped their Anderson shelter for one very good reason other than it was made of steel. He hadn’t woken up by the time a trio of men arrived at the house and pulled the pry bar out of the hasp.

Stella and Ursula watched as the men yelled into the shelter for him to wake up and John Bricke sat up, scratching his belly and saying, “Bloody Germans. You’d never have gotten me if it wasn’t for them bloody Germans bombing us to smithereens.”

Then he asked for a cup of tea and a toilet. He had moxie and a charm that was undeniable. Stella couldn’t resist. She asked that he be let in, carrying all their belongings, of course, and they went down into the kitchen to go through it all. All Ursula’s savings were there, not a pound missing, and she cried again with relief.

The men, who never identified themselves in any way, let the crook pee and then interrogated him in the kitchen while he had a cup of the tea that he’d stolen. He wanted the ham too, and Stella found herself wanting to give it to him, crazy as that was.

She went through everything and found a sheaf of bonds and stock certificates he’d gotten out of the safe.

“How’d you get in that safe?” asked one of the men.

The jolly crook cracked his knuckles and said, “I’ll never tell.”

“You will if you want to go free.”

That got his attention and Ursula’s, so the men packed him off before he finished his tea, protesting the whole time about common courtesy and how he’d love to spend more time with the ladies.

They took him out the front door and Stella glanced down the quiet street. “Hey!”

The men looked back at her.

“Ask him about that house over there!”

John Bricke laughed and tipped his flat cap at her before they stuck him in a black car and drove away.

“Why did you say that?”

“I think that moving might’ve been a robbery,” said Stella.

“We should get new locks,” said Ursula.

“Perhaps, but Mr. Bricke won’t be back.”

“Because he’ll be in prison?”

“Sure.” Stella turned to go in when a wave caught her eye and she yelled, “Look who the cat dragged in!”

Ursula jumped, looked, and then ran out to meet Roddy and Nora walking briskly down the sidewalk.

“Where have you been?” she cried.

“Where have you been?” Nora asked. “We’ve been all over Lambeth this morning.”

They walked up to the portico with worn smiles and very dirty clothes.

“The second night got the mobile canteens,” said Stella, “so we came home.”

“We saw them,” said Roddy. “I thought Aunt Nora was having a heart attack.”

“Where will we get new ones?” she asked primly.

“That’s not why. You thought they might’ve been in them.”

“Silly, I know.”

Stella kissed her undamaged cheek. “Not silly. With what’s happened, you never know.” She stepped back to let them in and asked, “So you made it to a hospital, I see.”

“We did,” said Roddy, looking away.

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