The Golden Deed Read online

  ‘You must be tired. Come and sit down.’

  Mellanby joined her on the settee and began to fill his pipe. ‘How’s our friend been?’

  ‘He was quite all right at dinner … At the moment, he’s walking round the garden with Kira.’

  Mellanby said, ‘Oh!’

  ‘I hope he’s not going to turn out to be a wolf.’

  ‘Well – Kira’s not likely to come to much harm in the garden, I shouldn’t think.’

  ‘It’s not just that – it’s everything. Haven’t you noticed how he looks at her?’

  ‘Very much the way he looks at you, I’d say.’

  ‘That’s what I mean.’

  ‘Well, you’re both quite an eyeful!’

  Sally smiled. ‘John, do be serious for a moment – I’m really very worried. Kira’s only eighteen and she’s rather impressionable, and everyone knows that a foreigner often seems very attractive … It would be awful if she fell for him – I think we’d just have to bundle her off home. It’s a bit of a responsibility … It isn’t as though he’s a young man … Don’t you think perhaps we ought to do something about it?’

  ‘Do you mean you’d like me to speak to him?’

  ‘Well, I think that would be the best way … I could talk to Kira, but I don’t want to upset her … I would feel much happier, darling, really. They’re together so much here – I hate the feeling I’ve got to keep an eye on them. Anyways it’s not possible … They’ve been out there nearly half an hour …’ Abruptly, she got up and went to the door.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Mellanby asked.

  ‘I’m going to put the garden light on,’ Sally said. ‘It’ll help them to find their way back.’

  When Roscoe went out to the car in the morning, Mellanby strolled with him. It was a distasteful task he had to perform, and he was anxious to get it over.

  ‘Have you a big programme today?’ he asked.

  ‘Four places,’ Roscoe said. ‘One of them sounds quite promising.’

  ‘Good – let’s hope it turns out a winner … By the way, Roscoe, a word in your ear. I’m sure you’ll understand … Don’t let young Kira get too fond of you.’

  Roscoe swung round, gazing down at Mellanby with a truculence that was something new. ‘What’s the idea?’

  ‘I gather you were walking round the garden with her last night Well, there’s no harm in that, of course, not just once, but she obviously admires you, and we don’t want any bother with her. She’s very young, you know.’

  Roscoe shrugged. ‘A man in my position has to take his fun where he can get it.’

  Mellanby stared at him for a moment, speechless. Then he said, ‘Well, don’t try to take it here, that’s all.’

  Roscoe looked sullen. ‘I don’t see …’ he began. Then a grin spread slowly over his face. ‘Okay, old man – I certainly don’t want to abuse your hospitality. I’ll lay off her – she’s not the only well-shaped pebble on the beach. No more walks in the garden I promise.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Mellanby said coldly.

  Chapter Seven

  There was more trouble over Roscoe that afternoon – this time of a sort that Sally had been half-expecting all along. Around five o’clock, just as she was settling down to an instalment of Winnie the Pooh with Alison, he rang up to say he’d got in a bit of a jam with the car.

  ‘Nothing serious,’ he said, ‘no casualties, and no damage to speak of – but I’m stuck and I’ll need some help to get clear.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Sally asked.

  ‘Got my near-side wing jammed against a stone wall – I was trying to pass a caravan in a lane, and there wasn’t room. We’re both stuck … What’s the best place to ring for a breakdown van?’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Well, I’m telephoning from the main road where the lane turns off. The signpost says “Eversleigh 1/2 one way and – just a minute! – “Crouch 4” the other. The lane goes to Pointings …’

  ‘Oh I know the place,’ Sally said, ‘it’s Blackett’s Lane …’

  ‘There’s a bridge being rebuilt a little way along – looks as though they’re widening it.’

  ‘That’s right … How far along is the car?’

  ‘Just beyond the bridge.’

  ‘Aren’t there any workmen who can help?’

  ‘Not a damn one, or I wouldn’t have bothered you.’

  ‘Well, I’d better ring our own garage and get them to send someone. They’re very reliable.’

  ‘Thanks a lot, Sally. Sorry to be such a nuisance – bad show, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Sally said, ‘it could happen to anyone … Don’t worry.’

  She rang off and dialled the garage. The owner, a phlegmatic man named Jack Reed, said the breakdown van was out on a job, but as soon as it came, in he’d take it straight round to Blackett’s Lane himself. He couldn’t say exactly when it would be.

  Sally called Kira and asked her to take over the reading session and then went along to the study to tell Mellanby the news. He didn’t seem at all surprised.

  ‘Perhaps I ought to run over there, John,’ Sally said. ‘Roscoe will wonder what’s happened if no one turns up.’

  Mellanby pushed his papers aside. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said. ‘We may be able to lend a hand.’

  There was a real tangle in Blackett’s Lane. The caravan, a large and opulent-looking cream trailer, was immovably wedged between one of the stone walls and the Humber car. The Humber was firmly locked against the other wall, with its near-side wing sprung over a pointed lump of granite. Mellanby and Sally had to go through a field gate and back over the wall to get round to the front of the obstruction. Roscoe was standing there in the road, smoking a cigarette. A few yards away a man and a woman were leaning against an unhitched black Chrysler. The glum expression on all three faces suggested that there’d been a certain amount of recrimination about the incident.

  ‘Well – hallo!’ Roscoe said in surprise, as he caught sight of the Mellanbys.

  ‘The breakdown van won’t be here yet,’ Sally explained, ‘so we thought we’d better come.’

  Roscoe said, ‘Oh!’ He looked at Mellanby in some embarrassment. ‘Sorry to bring you out, old man … Sorry about it all! ’ Fraid I’ve put up a bit of a black.’

  The caravan owner approached. He was a big, burly, greying man of fifty-five or so, with a florid, fleshy face and a bit of a paunch. He was wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and khaki drill trousers belted over his stomach. ‘It’s your car, is it?’ he said to Mellanby.

  Mellanby nodded.

  ‘Well, if you don’t mind me saying so, this young fellow’s not fit to drive it. He was going a heck of a lot too fast.’

  ‘I’d have been all right if it hadn’t been for the bridge,’ Roscoe said. ‘All that clutter they’ve left around …! What do they want to widen a bridge, in a lane like this for, anyway?’

  ‘They’re going to widen the whole lane,’ Mellanby told him, ‘and bring the main road through it to by-pass Eversleigh village. It’s an accident black spot.’

  ‘So will this be if people try to bring caravans through it,’ Roscoe said.

  ‘We wouldn’t have thought of it,’ the caravan’s owner’s wife said, ‘but someone told us there was an old quarry along here that would make a good stopping place. We didn’t realize the lane would be quite so narrow …’ She was at least twenty years younger than the man, and very attractive – a striking brunette, with dark eyes and a beautifully curved mouth and one of the loveliest complexions Sally had ever seen.

  ‘I know the quarry,’ Sally said, with a friendly smile. ‘It would make a nice stopping place.’

  ‘Anyhow,’ Mellanby said, ‘there doesn’t seem to be much harm done …’ He walked over to the wall and took a closer look at the Humber wing. ‘I suppose the three of us couldn’t lift it off …?’

  ‘We’ve tried it already,’ Roscoe said – adding, with a sl
ight grin, ‘I doubt if you’d make much difference, old man.’

  Oh, well, the breakdown crane should be able to lift it from the other side of the wall – and when it’s free we can back out.’

  ‘That’s about it,’ Roscoe agreed. ‘Let’s hope no one else tries to use the lane, that’s all.… How long do you think it’ll be before the breakdown van comes?’

  ‘I should think it might be an hour,’ Sally said.

  For a moment or two they continued to stand and gaze at the road block. Then the caravan owner said, ‘Well, we’re not going to shift it by just looking at it. What about you folks joining my wife and me in a glass of sherry while we’re waiting?’

  ‘That’s a cheerful suggestion,’ Sally said.

  ‘I reckon it’s better than arguing about who’s to blame … Come on in and see the homestead – that is, if we can get in … Our name’s Sherston, by the way, George and Eve Sherston.’ He had a bluff, direct, manner that Sally found engaging.

  Sally said, ‘Ours is Mellanby. This is Frank Roscoe – he’s staying with us.’

  Sherston nodded. ‘Glad to know you all …’ His accent and way of speech had a transatlantic flavour, but Mellanby didn’t think he was American. ‘Shall I go ahead …?’

  The door of the caravan was just clear of the Humber and with a little difficulty Sherston managed to open it wide enough for them all to squeeze through.

  ‘But what a marvellous caravan!’ Sally exclaimed, gazing around at the exquisitely appointed interior.

  ‘It is nice, isn’t it?’ Eve Sherston said.

  ‘It’s so roomy – why, it’s more like a flat.’

  ‘Yes – we’ve got a sitting-room, bedroom, kitchen and bath. It’s much easier to keep clean than a flat too.’

  ‘I love the big windows,’ Sally said.

  Eve nodded. ‘It’s almost like living out of doors, but without discomfort … Do come and have a look round.’

  Sally followed her into the kitchen. It was a housewife’s dream in miniature, with every variety of space-saving contrivance and gadget.

  ‘I never realized caravans could be as exciting as this,’ Sally said. ‘How the children would love it!’

  ‘How many children have you?’ Eve asked.

  ‘Two – a boy and a girl. Eight and six.’

  ‘Aren’t you lucky?’ Eve looked very wistful. ‘I adore children, but that’s as far as I seem to get … Still, I haven’t given up hope.’

  Sherston was drawing the cork from a bottle of Bristol Cream as they returned to the sitting-room. ‘So you like our little home, Mrs Mellanby?’ he said.

  ‘It’s wonderful … It must be enormous fun.’

  ‘We think so – which is just as well, as it’s all we’ve got for the time being. We debated whether to stay in hotels or buy a van, and decided the van would be more free-and-easy …’ He poured five glasses of sherry and handed them round.

  ‘Well, this is very hospitable of you,’ Mellanby said. He savoured the sherry, which was excellent. ‘You’re on holiday, are you?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Sherston said. ‘And a good long holiday it’s going to be, isn’t it, Eve?’ His glance rested on his wife for a moment with possessive affection. ‘First England, then all round Europe with a bit of luck. If it takes us years, so much the better.’

  ‘Where are you from?’ Roscoe asked.

  ‘We’re from Trinidad – British West Indies. I’m an oil man – at least, I was. Mining engineer.’

  ‘Really?’ Roscoe looked interested. ‘bloke in my regiment was going out to Trinidad – chap named Curthoys. Redundant, like me. He had some notion of buying a share in a sugar estate.’

  ‘I reckon he could do a lot worse,’ Sherston said. ‘They’re doing well with sugar just now, and the life’s very pleasant for a man who doesn’t mind hard work. You’ve got to be pretty tough, of course – but that goes for all those places.’

  ‘Are you planning to go back there eventually?’ Sally asked.

  ‘Well, we haven’t really got around to deciding that Mrs Mellanby. The fact is, we had a big stroke of luck and we’re going to enjoy ourselves – aren’t we, Eve? I’m a very fortunate man. I bought myself a small Crown concession in the bush with the idea there might be oil there – and it turned out there was. So now we’re sitting pretty.’

  ‘That was very smart of you,’ Roscoe said.

  ‘Well, it’s my line, of course I knew what I was doing up to a point – but there was another fellow after it so I had to act fast. I thought shall I or shan’t I, and Eve said yes, and I thought yes, so I closed the deal. I reckon that’s the best way to make decisions – quickly. More people regret doing nothing than doing something, in the end – don’t you think so, Mr Mellanby? Impulse, that’s the thing!’

  Mellanby laughed. ‘It certainly makes for an exciting life.’

  ‘Sure it does! Like the way we packed up and came over here … Now some people would have salted away the cash for their old age and died before they reached it. Not us, though. Eve and I packed up and let the bungalow and got a boat right away. We’ve always done that. Act first and think afterwards. Sounds silly, doesn’t it, but it works. We even got married only two days after we met didn’t we, darling? – and we’ve certainly never regretted the speed of that.’ He looked fondly at his wife, who gave him a rather inscrutable smile and held her glass out to be refilled.

  Mellanby said, ‘How long are you thinking of staying around here?’

  ‘Well, it depends what there is to see – our time’s our own. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, but I’ve heard Bath’s a pretty interesting place.’

  ‘It’s unique,’ Mellanby said.

  ‘Yes, that’s what they tell us … What would you advise us to go for?’

  ‘Well, you’ll want to see the Roman bath, of course there’s nothing quite so marvellous in the whole country, to my mind. It’s very much as it was two thousand years ago – you can see the worn stones where the Romans used to stand at the edge of the water, and the places they used for drying and dressing. You can see their lead pipes, and the hollow tiles they used, and a dismounting block for the chariots – it’s all there, a complete bit of history.’

  ‘That sounds tremendous,’ Sherston said. ‘We mustn’t miss that, Eve.’

  ‘And if you happen to be interested in architecture,’ Mellanby went on, ‘Bath’s sheer delight, of course. Queen’s Square, the Circus, the Royal Crescent – they’re all perfect eighteenth century.’

  ‘And Pulteney Bridge,’ Sally put in enthusiastically.

  ‘Yes – that’s the little bridge that has houses built into it. It was designed by Robert Adam. Oh, there are no end of fascinating bits if you’ve got time. That boot and shoe shop near the Abbey, Sally, with the lovely bow windows …’

  ‘And the house in River Street with the link extinguisher,’ she said. ‘It’s a metal thing like a dunce’s cap,’ she explained to the Sherstons. ‘The linkmen used to escort the sedan chairs of the well-to-do people with torches at night because the streets weren’t lit, and the dunce’s cap was where they put their torches out. Most of the big houses had them.’

  Sherston was listening as eagerly as a schoolboy. ‘Now isn’t that interesting, Eve?’ he said. ‘I reckon we’re going to be here for some time … And what about those famous waters they talk about so much – do you think they could get this turn of mine down, eh?’ He patted his comfortable waistline.

  Eve said, with a smile, ‘Someone told George that a spa course was just the thing to tone one up in middle age. Do you think it works?’

  ‘Well, I’ve never tried it myself,’ Mellanby said, ‘but a lot of people do, of course.’

  ‘Does he need toning up?’ Roscoe asked. He was looking at Eve Sherston – looking in such a blatantly intimate way that his meaning couldn’t be mistaken. Combined with the remark, the glance was almost an indecent assault

  There was an awkward silence. Sherston was gazing at R
oscoe in amazement. Eve looked most uncomfortable. Mellanby felt too ashamed and embarrassed to speak. Really, the man was quite intolerable where women were concerned – an unrestrained oaf …!

  At that moment, fortunately, there was a hoot from the lane. Roscoe said, ‘That’ll be the breakdown van,’ and eased himself out of the door. The others followed. Jack Reed, with the two men he’d brought with him, was already sizing up the job. He nodded to Sally and Mellanby, said ‘Bit of trouble, eh?’ and got straight down to work.

  The disentangling took quite a time. Even when the car wing was lifted it still had to be got away from the wall. But at last it was freed, and one of the garage men backed the car out, not without a few more scrapes and dents.

  ‘You’ll have to let me know what the bill is, Mr Mellanby,’ Sherston said. ‘I’ll be happy to pay half.’

  ‘Oh, it won’t amount to much,’ Mellanby said. ‘You needn’t worry about that.’

  ‘Well, it was partly our fault – this lane sure is narrow … How much further do we have to go before we reach the quarry?’

  ‘Only a couple of hundred yards or so.’

  ‘Oh – then I guess we should make it without difficulty … Well, I must say it’s been fine meeting you people …’ Sherston’s cordial glance embraced Mellanby and Sally, but ostentatiously excluded Roscoe.

  Eve smiled at Sally. ‘I wonder if you’d care to bring the children along to see the caravan some time, Mrs Mellanby? It would be so nice if you would.’

  ‘Do you mean it?’ Sally said. ‘I know they’d adore it.’

  ‘Of course I mean it. Come and have tea one afternoon. I don’t know what George’s plans are, exactly – perhaps the best thing would be for me to give you a ring.’

  Sally nodded. ‘The number’s Bath 41004 … It’s in the book.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Eve said. ‘I shall look forward to it.’

  Chapter Eight

  Sally and Mellanby had two more days to study Roscoe’s peculiar personality before the next major incident occurred. During that time, his behaviour was so unpleasant that they could no longer have any doubts about their feeling towards him.