Meanwhile Gardens (23 page)

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Authors: Charles Caselton

BOOK: Meanwhile Gardens
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“Nicky?”

The photographer jumped as the hall light went on behind her.

“There’s a light by the bed.”

“Auntie Gem!” Nicky grabbed the miniature in the darkness and put it under her coat, replacing it with the one she bought. “Gotta rush!” she kissed Gemma on the cheek and hurried out.

Again she ran past Wayne, Ollie and Rion who stood talking to Auntie Em.

“I think I left the stove on!” she gasped as she rushed into her house.

“Get it together Nicks,” she heard Ollie call from outside. “We’re late as it is.”

Now completely out of breath Nicky placed the miniature on the mantelpiece. The fake felt almost exactly the same as the original she thought. Almost exactly the same! Smiling at a job well done she went to join her friends in the mews.

“Phew!” Nicky put her arm around Ollie, “Let’s get out of here.”

“When did you say you were going out?” Wayne asked Auntie Em who stood watching Ollie, Rion and Nicky walk laughing out of the mews.

“Gemma and I are going out at about nine fifteen.”

“Could you let me into Nicky’s before you go? I’ll finish up at 1A and then do the quotes before going to meet the others.”

Auntie Em put her head to one side and looked at the builder grinning in front of her. ‘Ah, smile SMILE and still be a villain,’ she thought to herself.

“Of course Mr Watson,” Auntie Em turned on her heels and was soon in her house.

Wayne walked up the mews. There was only a small bit of bathroom ceiling that still needed plastering. He didn’t
have to finish it he realised. He could just wait until nine fifteen, get the painting and be out of there.

But something was stopping him.

He combed through various emotions, hoping against all hope that he wasn’t experiencing decency or some other softness. Feeling any sort of feelings was severely amateurish. With relief he worked out that what was stopping him was professionalism. He had been paid to do a job and so couldn’t leave before it was completed. The fact that he was going to rip them off afterwards was different – that was another matter and should be treated as such.

His conscience appeased he entered lA.

At the other end of the mews Auntie Gem had a surprise for Emma. “You’ll find this interesting,” she said as she put a large manilla envelope on the sitting room table.

Auntie Em opened it to find it contained a folder marked:
In Strictest Confidence.

“This isn’t the original is it?” she asked.

“Of course not.”

Emma settled on the sofa and began to read the report prepared by Mr Paul, the assistant manager at Peters & Peters. It was the inside account on the poisoning of the canal.

“Do you feel strange Ol?”

They were on the towpath heading for Little Venice when Nicky asked the question. Rion skipped ahead of them, excited to be out for the evening.

“Isn’t that what we smoke this for?” Ollie took a last hit of the joint before throwing it in the canal.

“No, it’s not that, I mean,” Nicky struggled to find the words but failed. Was she just feeling guilty about having set
up Wayne she wondered? Well, forget that, he was the one deceiving them wasn’t he? “Nothing, it’s nothing,” she murmured, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave her.

Ollie put his arm around his friend, “You’re still upset about the Kakapo aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Nicky hugged him.

Ollie had gone to see Nicky a couple of nights before to find her in floods of tears in front of a nature programme. Between sobs she explained about the Kakapo, a rare flightless bird found only in New Zealand that at one time was down to its last known member. For fourteen years local ornithologists heard its lone mating call as the bird made its arduous daily trek up to the top of the mountain. For fourteen years its call went unanswered.

And then nothing.

The Kakapo had never found its mate. It had died the last of the species, unhappy and alone.

“But the story wasn’t all bad was it? They discovered another community of Kakapo on an outlying island didn’t they?”

Nicky smiled weakly, “I guess.”

“Maybe it’s just Halloween sweetheart. The change of the seasons?”

“The full moon?” added Rion.

“The night when spirits walk the earth? Or – ” Ollie lit his lighter and placed it under his chin, the flame giving his face a ghoulish glow, “the fact that the weed is called ‘Mausoleum Madness’?”

“All of the above I think,” Nicky decided to shrug off the creepy feeling. “Is there another spliff?”

“We have Jake to thank for this,” Ollie pulled out another matchstick-sized joint from his tin. “So make sure you do when you see him.”

“They’re still here!” Rion gestured to the brightly coloured barges anchored to the towpath. “I walked past these on my first day and for some reason they soothed me -well, all except one of them.”

Ollie read the name of the first boat, “Morrisco?”

“No! That sounds like a ballroom dance don’t you think?”

“The Tango, the Merengue, the Morrisco,” Ollie rolled the word around his mouth, “could be.” He pointed to two colourful prancing figures painted on the side of the barge, “Must be something like that.”

Nicky could see the name of the middle barge, “Longfelloe?”

“Named after a literary buff who couldn’t spell?” Ollie wondered.

Rion didn’t get it, “Refers to the size of the boat doesn’t it?”

“Or the size of his – ”

Nicky cut him off, “Enough Ol!”

“So it must be,” Ollie walked up to the final boat, “Home Sweet Home?” He returned to the Longfelloe where Nicky was struggling to light the joint.

Rion nodded.

“I couldn’t imagine such a place then, but now,” she linked arms with Ollie and Nicky, “thanks to you, I have one of my own.”

Ollie couldn’t handle the mawkish silence.

He looked at his watch, “You know if we have to be at St Mary’s by seven we’d better hurry.”

Nicky choked on the hot, dry smoke burning her throat.

“Wait a sec,” she wheezed, passing the small spliff to Ollie.

“When are we meeting Wayne?” Rion asked.

“Ten thirty at the look-out on the brow of Primrose Hill.”

“We can also meet there if one of us gets lost.” Nicky was fairly sure Wayne wasn’t going to turn up but hadn’t the heart to tell Ollie. That had to be what was making her feel uneasy – all the deception, the trickery. “Do you have your phone?” she asked Rion.

“It hadn’t charged yet, but that’s ok, I’m with you two. C’mon!” Rion pulled at their arms.

Nicky threw the roach to the ground and stubbed it out with her heel, “Let’s go!” She hoped her enthusiasm didn’t sound too feigned.

In the darkness of one of the barges someone had listened to their entire conversation. The eavesdropper made a mental note: “Ten thirty, look-out, brow of Primrose Hill.”

19
FIREWORKS

T
he wine from dinner, and countless mini-spliffs, had helped no end but by nine o’clock Nicky still hadn’t managed to shrug off the feeling of unease, in fact it threatened to derail her whole enjoyment of the evening.

From Primrose Hill they looked over the glittering cityscape that was central London.

“Do you see there?” Nicky pointed to a mass below them, beyond the fairground in the darkness.

Rion looked hard but couldn’t see much of interest.

“It’s London Zoo.”

“Where the pandas are?” the young girl asked.

Ollie nodded, “You know, that would be one of the main reasons to live in Primrose Hill.”

“For the pandas?”

“Not especially, but for the zoo. Imagine,” he took a deep breath through his nose as if smelling the open plains of the Serengeti, “you would wake up in the half-sleep of morning, listening to the lions roar, the monkeys screech and believe you were on safari somewhere in Africa.”

“Just waiting for some deranged gamekeeper to mug you, rape you then steal all your camera equipment?” Nicky shook her head, “No thanks.”

“You know you can walk from Meanwhile Gardens all the way to the zoo along the canal?”

“Really?”

“Yup, you just turn left at Little Venice instead of going straight on as we did to get to St Mary’s. There are a couple of parts where you have to cross over a road but it’s pretty straightforward.”

“Can we do it sometime?” Rion asked excitedly, seeing another London adventure unfold before her eyes.

“Of course.”

“Speaking of St Mary’s, are you going to see Jake on Sunday?” Nicky asked Rion.

They had only managed to see Jake for the last ten minutes of visiting time but that had been long enough. He had been very weak but grateful for their company.

“I can’t make it tomorrow but – ” Nicky continued.

“I didn’t realise he was a particular friend of
yours,
” Ollie said pointedly to Nicky while nudging Rion in the ribs.

“He’s not!” Nicky protested, “but the poor guy’s in hospital and besides, there’s something about a helpless man in bed – ”

Ollie sighed, “Isn’t there just?”

“ – that brings out an incredibly maternal instinct. Didn’t you get that Rion?”

Rion grinned, “I think I’m a bit young for the maternal instinct Nicks.”

“It’s like some hidden Florence Nightingale gene hidden in every woman.”

“And some men too sweetheart,” Ollie chipped in.

Nicky sighed, confused at this sudden appearance of feminine instinct within her. “Weird,” she muttered. “Just weird.” She turned to see Rion entranced by the lights of London. The young girl’s face in the half-shadow of night
made her think suddenly of Merlijnche de Poortje.

It was then Nicky had the most ghastly feeling. She couldn’t have been so stupid, she thought, could she? Could she?

“Oh my God!” Nicky glanced at her watch. It was nearly nine fifteen. Hopefully Wayne would still be there.

“Nicks?” Ollie looked over, concerned.

The photographer gazed around her in a panic, “I have to go.” Nicky felt physically ill. “I’ll be back for the fireworks at ten thirty or I’ll get you on the mobile,” she hurriedly kissed Ollie and Rion on the cheek before racing down the hill towards Regents Park Road and the passing taxis. “I’ll explain later!” she yelled.

“Is she ok?”

Ollie shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve been asking that question for longer than I care to remember.”

Auntie Em looked on in satisfaction as Wayne’s pick up rattled down the mews for what, she hoped, was the last time. She had known he would try to get into Nicky’s at the earliest opportunity.

She hadn’t been wrong.

The builder had called her at half past eight to inspect the bathroom ceiling at lA. His workmanship was good, there was no doubting that side of things. From there she had let him into Nicky’s house.

“He won’t be back will he?” Auntie Gem asked.

Smiling she sat beside Gem at the table, “No,” Emma said honestly. “I don’t believe he will.”

She tapped the folder Auntie Gem had handed her earlier that evening. What with all the Halloween trick’n treaters – another regrettable American habit that had been steadily gaining in popularity – disturbing their peace along with
other goings on in the mews, it had taken Auntie Em quite a while to get through the report.

“What are we going to do about it?”

Auntie Gem put on her coat before helping Emma into hers. She gave a sly chuckle, “I’ll tell you over supper.”

In the taxi speeding towards Meanwhile Gardens Mews Nicky was frantically trying to contact Auntie Em and Auntie Gem, but the phone just rang and rang.

She continually pressed the re-dial button on the small handset before putting her hands together and beginning to pray, “Dear God, please let Wayne still be there. Please let Wayne still be there,” she repeated over and over in a desperate mantra.

The taxi-driver looked into his rearview mirror before stepping on the accelerator. He hated Halloween, all the weirdos were out and proud but it was always the ones who weren’t in costume that you had to watch for.

They made the journey in record time. Arriving outside the small entrance to the mews the driver stopped.

“No, inside!”

The driver turned back to face her, “Miss, I won’t be able to turn round.”

“Just do it!” Nicky ordered.

Before the cab had pulled up outside her house Nicky had jumped out. She threw a twenty pound note at the driver.

“Keep the change!”

Fumbling for the keys she managed to open her door, run up the stairs and was confronted by the sight she had been dreading.

The mantelpiece was empty. There was no sign of the valuable miniature. Wayne, and so Candida, had kidnapped Merlijnche de Poortje.

There would be no ransom demand.

Ollie and Rion had just finished their second go on the dodgems when the call came through. Shouting to make himself heard above the sound of the fairground Ollie answered the phone. “Hello!” he laughed into the mouthpiece.

He could hardly hear the voice at the other end.

“Ollie it’s Wayne.”

“One second mate,” Ollie quickly moved away from the madness of the bumper cars to a quieter spot near the shooting gallery. “Have you finished at Nicky’s?”

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