The Bronze Lady (Woodford Antiques Mystery Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter 5

Saturday 21
st
November, 8.45pm

When Rebecca telephoned Peter Isaac, Jackie’s junior colleague, to pass on her mother’s instructions, Peter and his fiancé, Gemma Bartlett, had just finished their evening meal, and Peter was settling down on the sofa to mindlessly watch television. As soon as Rebecca told him where she was phoning from and why he stood up and began to pace, continually running his free hand through his hair in time with his footfalls.

‘Right, right, yes, OK, thanks for letting me know. I’ll switch the phones over now, no need to disturb Alastair. Tell Jackie not to worry about anything here, I’ll sort it all out. Oh, wait, Rebecca which ward is she in and is she going to be welcoming visitors tomorrow?’  Peter was trying to absorb Rebecca’s news whilst simultaneously wondering what he was going to do about filling her vacancy within the next day or so, all the time planning his own short-notice wedding.

‘What’s happened?  Is it Jackie? Is she alright?’ Gemma came in with two cups of tea, only catching the tail-end of Peter’s conversation with Rebecca.

‘Yes and no. Poor Jackie has been flattened by a horse and is in hospital. She’s going to be OK, but has several fractures, luckily all below the neck so no head injury, and she isn’t paralysed, but she is going to be recovering for several months.’

‘Oh no, poor Jackie!  She’ll go stir-crazy; she is such an energetic woman. I’ll give Lisa a ring and see if she can cover for me at the tearooms so I can come with you when you go to see her tomorrow.’ Gemma and her sister, Lisa Bartlett, owned the Woodford Tearooms, a popular local business located further down the High Street from The Ship Inn. ‘So what does that mean for the Practice?  You can’t run it on your own.’

‘I’m not sure. I’ll just give Alastair a ring tomorrow and see if he can help out for a bit.’

‘Don’t wait until tomorrow; I am sure Alastair would want to know about Jackie’s accident tonight.’

Peter then telephoned Alastair Wilkinson, whose retirement earlier in the year had provided the opportunity for Peter to take up his vacated position. Alastair’s wife, Hazel, answered the telephone and Alastair was also at home, and happy to step in if Peter needed him to for emergency support until he could find a locum. The two men had a quick planning meeting over the phone, fortunately both were able to access the Practice’s appointments system from their home computers, and Alastair also offered to take over all of those allocated to Jackie the following week.

‘Oh that is such a relief, what a lovely man.’ Peter rubbed his hands over his face as he sank back down onto the sofa and leant back into the cushions. ‘I do not know what we would have done if he wasn’t able to help out.’

‘Why don’t you give Jennifer a call?’ asked Gemma.

‘Jennifer?  Yes she may know of someone.’

‘Well, I was thinking more of offering your daughter a job. Jackie is going to be out for most of next year isn’t she?  Jennifer may welcome the opportunity of a change of scene. Go on, ask her!’ Peter had two daughters, and Jennifer was the elder at twenty six years old. Peter and their mother, Diana, were now divorced. Peter had moved from Shropshire to Brackenshire the previous year, and met Gemma on the day he came for his interview with Jackie. Jennifer and her sister Alison still lived in Shropshire near their mother, and Jennifer chose a career in veterinary science, while her younger sister trained as a riding instructor.

‘Oh I don’t know, doesn’t sound like the sort of thing my daughter would go for. It would be a big deal for Jennifer to hand in her notice for a temporary position. This Practice is very small compared to what she is used to working in. We don’t have the fantastic diagnostic facilities she uses up in Shropshire. And it isn’t something I can organise unilaterally, Jackie is the senior partner and she may not approve.’

‘I don’t think Jackie is going to argue about who you choose to help you to keep her business going for the next few months do you?  Why wouldn’t she approve of Jennifer?’

‘Well, she is still very young, not long qualified. There is no way she could take on Jackie’s clients.’

‘Maybe, maybe not, but you certainly can. And as you said, Alastair is more than happy to help out if things get tough. Have more faith in your daughter Peter!’

‘Hmmh, I’m not sure about me taking on Jackie’s clients either. She and I have very different approaches to equine health. I don’t think her customers would be too happy about me as her replacement.’

‘Oh for goodness sake Peter, who else is there?  Some unknown locum or Jennifer?  Come on, ask her!  She might say no anyway, and then what are your options?’ 

Chapter 6

Saturday 21
st
November, 10.00pm

‘Uh oh, there goes another poor female heading for heartbreak’ commented Mike Handley, as Paul Black and his latest date, a petite red head, walked hand-in-hand out of the door of The Ship Inn.

‘Where does he keep finding them?  Surely his reputation precedes him throughout the County!’ laughed his wife, Sarah.

‘Well he is a good looking chap. He oozes charm and constantly pays them attention when he brings them in here. He doesn’t stint on the food and drink either. I’d date him,’ teased Mike.

‘He oozes something, not my idea of a potential partner. I prefer the reliable, cuddly, poverty-stricken type of man,’ Sarah said as she gave her husband a big kiss on the cheek.

‘Hey, are you saying I am not good looking and charming?’ asked Mike.

‘No, no not at all!  You are the handsomest and most charming man in here!’

‘Well that’s not saying much’ laughed Mike as they looked around at the last few customers, mostly old men hunched over their pints in silence, and one table of about twenty women of various ages who had spent the whole evening talking and laughing from the moment they arrived.

‘Those Zumba girls know how to celebrate don’t they!  Whose birthday is it this time?’

‘The one in the middle on the right of the table, it is her fortieth. I think I might give it a go in the New Year,’ mused Sarah. ‘I need to do something to get motivated to be fit enough to start horse riding again. Nicola and I have been inspired by old Mrs Barker’s stories and are going to start riding lessons next Easter, when the weather is warmer and drier.’ Nicola Stacey was Sarah’s best friend. They had known each other from their school days, and whereas Sarah had moved away from Woodford when she left school and only returned ten years’ previously, Nicola moved straight into a job working for Cliff Williamson at Williamson Antiques, and had stayed in the town. Nicola and Sarah had recently been visiting a lady, Mrs Margaret Barker, who used to be a big name in the local hunting scene, and they had enjoyed several afternoons listening to her reminisce while they drank tea out of china cups and saucers instead of their usual chunky mugs, and ate cake. When they were at school Nicola and Sarah used to spend every spare hour at the local riding stables, and Mrs Barker’s enthusiasm for the horses she bred and rode was re-awakening that love of horses in Sarah. She continued ‘I was going to ask Jackie Martin about where is the best place to book; I’ll ask her about Zumba too, she’s keen and goes at least twice a week. I am surprised she is not here with this Party.’

‘She is probably working,’ said Mike. ‘For a part-timer she doesn’t seem to have much time off. Good to see Lisa Bartlett dating again, I didn’t think she would risk it after her previous attempt.’

Mike and Sarah stood quietly for a few moments watching the couple who were deep in conversation over a cafetiere of coffee. Lisa had finally taken the plunge into the world of dating earlier in the year after several years of deliberate singledom following the heart-wrenching collapse of her first marriage. Unfortunately the man she chose to navigate the murky waters, a local antiques dealer named Andrew Dover, proved to be a shark and after weeks of stringing her along was forced to admit he had been focusing his affections elsewhere. Lisa would never have known anything about Andrew’s ‘other’ woman if it hadn’t been for Cliff Williamson and Paul Black’s intervention one evening in The Ship Inn.

‘Who is that chap Lisa is with?’ Sarah asked her husband. Mike could usually be relied upon to know a detailed history of most of the people who came into his pub.

‘I don’t know, I am not sure if I have seen him before. Let’s hope he isn’t two-timing her like the last one did. That day when she found out in here what he had been doing was one of the most upsetting in my history as a landlord. I can still remember the look on her face when Cliff and Paul told her, and it brings tears to my eyes.’

‘Aw you are a soppy old thing,’ said Sarah as she gave her husband a hug. ‘But Andrew wasn’t the first man to cheat on her. I think Andrew was the first man she had dated since her marriage broke up, and that ended because her husband had another woman. In fact, I believe he had another family she was unaware of until the truth finally came out. I am amazed she is back on the dating scene so quickly; good for her. Poor girl could do with some good luck in the romance department for a change. At least her sister has found someone decent. Their forthcoming nuptials are going to provide a much-needed boost to this town after all the scandal of recent months.’

‘Yes, Peter Isaac is a lovely man isn’t he. Works hard though; well, they both do.’

‘Like us, we work hard Mike. I’d love to go away in January, somewhere hot. Thailand or somewhere like that. What do you think? We could renew our wedding vows.’

‘Oh I’m not sure about going abroad, I like it here. Just the thought of a long plane journey makes me feel anxious so what’s the point of spending thousands of pounds on a luxury holiday only to have it all undone on the journey on the way back? We’d be better off spending our money on refurbishing the pub, don’t you think? It is well overdue; we haven’t done anything since we moved here ten years ago other than re-painting it every other year. Those carpets could do with being ripped out, and the floorboards are in need of stripping back and re-polishing properly instead of the quick once over we’ve been giving them. And why do we need to renew our vows? It was nerve-wracking enough the first time!’

‘It would be romantic!’ Sarah sighed. ‘Oh well, if you won’t go somewhere warm and relaxing with me then maybe Nicola will. I really need a break from this place.’

Chapter 7

Monday 23
rd
November, 11.30am

‘Hi Gemma,’ called Nicola Stacey as she came in through the front door of the Woodford Tearooms.

‘Morning Nicola!’ replied Gemma. ‘Or should I say ‘Afternoon’. I have made some of your favourite veggie chilli wraps if you fancy one for lunch today?’

‘Oh perfect, yes please Gemma. I expect these tables have been buzzing with this morning’s gossip have they?’ she asked.

The Woodford Tearooms were situated next to Williamson Antiques where Nicola worked, and the tearooms were a regular haunt for antiques dealers on their way to or from the antiques centre.

‘Not really,’ said Gemma. ‘All the horsey people are too busy working or exercising their horses to come in here and talk about Jackie’s accident.’

‘Yes, poor Jackie, Cliff went to visit her in Swanwick Hospital yesterday afternoon, he was telling me about it this morning. He said she was feeling very depressed and miserable, poor lady, she is such an active person I should think enforced bed rest for the next few days is going to drive her mad!’

‘Yes, Peter and I went yesterday morning. I think it will be several months before she can return to work, judging by the state of her. Veterinary practice is physical work, particularly when horses are involved.’

‘Yes I can imagine. Such a shame, she is a super fit lady for her age.’

Gemma laughed ‘She is fitter than either of us and she’s at least ten if not nearer twenty years older than we are!’

‘True. So what is going to happen to the vet practice? Surely Peter can’t run the place on his own?’

‘Oh no, that wouldn’t be possible. Good old Alastair Wilkinson will help out in the short term, and then in the medium term Jackie has offered Peter’s daughter Jennifer a temporary full-time position at the Practice, with the promise of a permanent part-time position once Jackie returns to work. If Jackie returns to work I should say, because the way she was talking yesterday I think she has had enough of the whole thing.’

‘Oh that’s interesting. I should think that would be shock, pain and depression talking, wouldn’t you? I can’t see Jackie giving up the business she has worked so hard to establish after all these years just like that. Look at Alastair Wilkinson! He was meant to retire a few months ago and yet he is always helping them out when they need him.’ Nicola took the plate of food Gemma had prepared for her and moved over to a table near the large open window which separated the kitchen from the eating area. ‘Does Jennifer want to move down here and work with her father?  Although I suppose she will be working for Peter rather than with him won’t she. Not sure I could do that with my father!’

‘Once a vet always a vet, I suppose,’ said Gemma as she walked past carrying used crockery and cutlery from another table. They were the only two in the tearooms, but she knew the lunchtime rush was just about to start so went into the kitchen to check everything was ready. Her niece Caroline should join her any minute now. Once she was satisfied everything was in place she leaned over the wide shelf in the window so they could continue their conversation. ‘I don’t know about the whole father-daughter dynamic. I certainly couldn’t have worked with my father. Peter took a bit of persuading, but now he is all for it. He is very proud of Jennifer and likes the way she is with horses. Jennifer is keen to come and help out for a couple of weeks, but as you say it would be a big shift in her life so she is sensibly going to take some time to consider her options.’

‘Hmmh so could be some major changes for all of you in the up-coming months. There is a little matter of your wedding, too. But no, that wasn’t the gossip I meant.’

‘Ah, you mean Lisa’s date on Saturday night? Yes, one or two people have mentioned it.’ Gemma then proceeded to list, ticking off her fingers as she talked with a wry smile. ‘She met him through an online dating site, and they have been exchanging emails for three weeks. Saturday was the first time they met, and although they had planned just to have drinks she enjoyed his company so much they stayed for a meal. And yes, she does plan to see him again; they have another date booked for tomorrow night.’

‘Well that sounded rehearsed!’ laughed Nicola.

Gemma grinned, ‘I think every other person who came in here yesterday quizzed her about him, and you are now the fourth person this morning to ask me. The food really is good in The Ship, Peter and I often pop across the road for a bar meal in the evenings when we are both too tired to cook or neither of us has done any food shopping.’

‘Are you really telling me that you spend all day preparing and serving delicious food in here, and then go home to an empty larder! They do takeaway food here too you know,’ Nicola winked conspiratorially.

‘Not exactly an empty larder,’ Gemma chuckled. ‘But seriously, after prepping and serving and washing up the last thing I want to do when I go home is start all over again. Besides when I do cook at home I am usually experimenting with dishes to put on the menu here, so every now and then it is very nice for someone else to do the cooking and the washing-up, and then the most taxing thing I have to do with my brain is choose something off the menu.’

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that before. I suppose because the food in here is so delicious I imagined you ate the same at home. But no, as interesting as Lisa’s love-life is, poor girl, and I do hope this one deserves her, that isn’t the gossip I meant either. Has no one mentioned the Great Bronze Fakes scandal yet?’

‘Ooooh no, tell me more. I haven’t heard a thing about bronzes. We are talking antiques are we? Not terrible sun tanning disasters.’

‘Yes we are talking antiques. Well,’ said Nicola, who had finished her lunch and was now walking over to the kitchen serving window so she could share the information quietly, even though there were still no other customers in the tearooms and Caroline hadn’t appeared for work yet either. ‘It would appear that someone is producing fake bronze statues, and it has sent the whole antiques trade into a right old tizz. It has been the main topic of conversation in the antiques centre for weeks now. But this morning every antiques dealer who has walked through the door of Williamson Antiques has been talking about a discussion on one of the antiques television programmes at the weekend.’

‘Really? I don’t know much about bronze statues. When I was first married we went to Venice for our honeymoon and saw the horses of St Mark. Oh my goodness they were amazing! Although, thinking about it, I am not sure that the ones we saw outside on the loggia of the basilica were the originals because looking back I think there were another set inside St Mark’s, but we didn’t go in there. How do you fake bronze?’

‘According to the gossip today you cast an item in brass and call it bronze. Or at least in this case you cast the item in brass, paint it, and call it bronze. They are very hard to detect, but the difference in price can vary enormously, for example a sixty pound brass statue could be worth in excess of three hundred and sixty for a bronze version. Remember when the bronze statue by Henry Moore was stolen three years ago from a Scottish country park? That was worth tens of thousands of pounds, but melted down, as probably happened, it was worth about fifteen hundred pounds.’

‘Oh yes! Or at least I remember that quite a few bronze statues have been stolen over the past few years. I can’t imagine how on earth the thieves organise to steal them; they are huge and very heavy. But then when I was at university a team of workmen arrived in their liveried works’ van at about ten o’clock one morning, walked all the way through our four storey building in their overalls, removed every single one of the payphones from the walls and stole them! No one stopped them or questioned them because the men looked as though they were meant to be there.’

‘Wow, I know they are criminals but I do feel a little bit of admiration for audacity on that scale. Those old payphones would have held quite a lot of money. Such a waste of beautiful artwork though, going back to the Henry Moore statues, to melt it down like that. But no, the bronzes which are causing such hoo-ha in the world of antiques are tiny in comparison, probably measuring around three to thirty centimetres tall. The craftsmanship that would go into faking large bronzes by famous artists like Barbara Hepworth, or intricately worked Japanese vases for example, negate the financial pay-off if they were cast in brass. However these small statues are based on cold-painted Vienna bronzes or silvered art deco erotica, and are relatively easy for someone with the skill to create in their spare bedroom. They have been around for years, even the original factories used to cast in brass or spelter as well as bronze, but in recent years more and more of them have been turning up which are being sold as genuine bronze, but are in fact modern brass fakes. I am surprised no one has mentioned it in here yet? You usually hear most of the antiques gossip at the same time as me.’

‘Someone may have been talking about it, but I probably wouldn’t have noticed or realised what they were talking about. Bronze antiques aren’t something I have ever paid particular attention too before. But I will now.’ They both turned as the bell rang to signal someone else was entering the tearooms and put an end to their conversation.

The newcomer was a man in his fifties or sixties, wearing a patterned flat cap over his greasy dark hair. The cap had the vague appearance of once being brightly coloured but was now darkened with age and grime. He wore thick black rimmed glasses, a cravat, and a three piece suit in similar state and appearance as his cap. After nodding at the two women he weaved between the furniture to a table and chair in the far corner of the room, and studied the menu.

Their opportunity to catch-up on each other’s gossip brought to an abrupt halt, Nicola walked over to one of the tables in the window, through which the November sun was surprisingly strong, and sat down as Gemma brought her cappuccino over to her. Gemma then went and took the newcomer’s order, and resolved to seat any more customers as far away from him as possible, and to liberally spray the air with a freshener once he had gone.