by Wendy Gill
“Still solving crimes, are you?” the sergeant asked.
"Jackson says your guest is mentally unstable and he needs a doctor. You had better get him one but keep an eye on him because if he is mentally unstable it can make him very dangerous. He has not uttered a word since I arrested him, not that I have arrested him, for I am no longer a police officer, nor has he made a move to escape.
“As soon as I overpowered him he retreated into himself. He is a very violent man sergeant, so let your men know to be very wary of him, you never know when he might go into one of his rages and lash out.”
“What crime has he committed on our patch?”
“Assault, abuse, kidnapping, breaking and entering, threatening murder, take your pick.” Knowing how much paperwork this was going to generate Charlie was glad he was no longer a policeman.
“How long has he been in Marchum? I have never seen him before.”
“I would say around two or three weeks, if that.”
“Three weeks and he has done all that? Thank God he wasn’t here a month.”
“There has been carnage up at The Retreat. You need to send one of your officers up there to take statements.”
“I shall send PC Keyser, he likes making notes in his occurrence book.”
“So I have heard.”
“He is not as good as you Charlie. You are well and truly missed. Is there any chance of you coming back?”
“Not a chance in hell sergeant. I have surprised myself, I enjoy running the estate and in a couple of weeks I am to be married, which I am also looking forward to. I can milk the cows, feed the pigs, plough the land and at the end of the day, no paperwork, no there is not a chance in hell of me coming back.”
Charlie waited until they had Henry safely under lock and key before he made his way back to The Retreat. He entered the sitting room and looked around to find Ella.
He saw her sitting on a hardback chair near the window next to Clarence.
“Is everything alright Ella?” he asked.
“Yes, everything is under control now.”
“Good,” then he added, “I see Jackson has managed to get himself the best seat in the house. You spoil him too much Blanche, just look at his face, he is in seventh heaven.”
“Me too,” Blanche told him.
“I can’t argue with that Blanche,” and Charlie gave her an affectionate smile and felt for Ella’s hand.
“If it wasn’t for your Ella, I would not be here, sitting in the state you found me in. It is about time you got married and gave Ella half a dozen nippers to look after. That will keep her out of Clarence’s porch.”
“I had come to take you all home, but PC Keyser is on his way to take some statements, so I think we should all stay here and get it over with,” Charlie told them.
“If yon PC Keyser is heading our way with his occurrence book, you might as well get the spare blankets out, Aunt Sylvia. We are in for a long stay,” Jackson informed them all.
Charlie laughed. There was no one on this planet like Jackson and he would be eternally grateful he was his best friend.
When PC Keyser arrived, Isaac informed him that the Bossett police were looking for Henry for the murder of his mother and PC Keyser made a note in his occurrence book.
Two days later saw the departure of Isaac, Freddie and Charlotte. Freddie was going back to Bossett to put his house on the market, but he would be back.
Charlotte had asked Miss Tubby what she wanted to do, whether she wanted to stay at The Retreat or to go back to Bossett with them. Miss Tubby opted to stay; she had decided that life was going to become most exciting from now on.
Chapter Fifteen
Mrs Moyer had invited Blanche, Jackson, Mr Grundy, Charlie and Ella to dine with them and they were all happy to do so.
Since Charlie had left the police and gone to work his grandmother’s estate, these little get-togethers were becoming less and less frequent.
Jackson’s face, although the swelling had gone down, was still showing just a trace of a yellowy green colour, it would soon be back to normal. The bump on the back of his head only hurt him when he laid his head on the pillow, or he ran the comb through his hair, so he did not bother using the comb on the back of his head. That would have to wait until it was fully healed, but nobody noticed any difference.
Charlie and Ella had been married three whole days and the honeymoon was still new.
Ella and Mr Grundy had moved into Charlie’s grandmother’s house after the wedding so at present Mr Grundy’s house on West Street was empty. Mr Grundy said he did not want to sell it in case he didn’t like living in the country and he could always go back to West Street to live.
Mr Moyer looked over at his son-in-law, “Caught a murderer, did you? Not many can boast that.”
“More like the murderer caught me. Look at the state of my face? He didn’t get his face rattled down a flight of wooden steps, nor was he trussed up like a dead chicken,” Jackson complained.
“Yes, but if you hadn’t called at The Retreat when you did that poor girl would most likely be dead by now, so that is another life you have saved,” Mr Moyer told him logically.
Jackson cast around in his head for something to say and failed.
Charlie’s eyes lit up and Jackson did not miss the smile that Charlie tried his hardest to hide.
“It is about time Clarence knocked down that damned porch. I have already told him to get rid of it, it is like a magnet to any waif and stray in Marchum and Ella is bound to find them, and who ends up with um, Charlie and me. And I would just like to point out to you Clarence; you will not bribe me with sausage and mash a second time. I am having a baby you know, and it isn’t good for the baby to see his father looking like this the minute he is born. It will frighten the little thing to death.”
Jackson waited for someone to reply to his remarks but what he got was an “OUCH” from Blanche.
Jackson shot out of his chair as though he had been struck by lightning, panic showing on his bruised face.
All eyes turned to Blanche. She was rubbing her tummy and breathing deeply.
“I think it is time,” she said.
“I will go for the doctor,” Jackson panicked.
“You are the doctor,” Charlie told him.
“I am not a doctor, I keep telling you. I am a vet. I am not having my baby delivered by a vet,” Jackson informed them all.
All eyes were now on Jackson until Blanche said “OUCH,” again.
“I will go for the doctor,” Jackson insisted.
“I want you Jackson,” Blanche told him.
“What if I do something wrong, what if something happens to either of you, I would not be able to live with myself,” Jackson told her.
“My daughter is in the safest hands in Marchum when she is in your hands Jackson. Blanche wants you and she will damn well have you,” Mr Moyer said.
“You could always head back to Mars,” Charlie told him.
“Sod off,” Jackson said.
“Language boy, baby on the way,” Clarence said.
Mrs Moyer stood up and helped Blanche to her feet, “While you lot are deciding what to do, Blanche and I are going to the bedroom and we are going to have a baby, with or without you.”
Ella jumped up and opened the door, “May I come too?” she asked.
“Of course, my dear, let the men fight amongst themselves.” Mrs Moyer guiding her daughter through the doorway, turned and said, “Mr Grundy, you seem to have a slight sense of understanding about you. Would you be so kind as to pull the bell and ask the butler to see there is hot water and clean towels sent up to Mrs Jackson’s bedroom?”
Mr Grundy’s chest puffed out with satisfaction, he had not expected to be involved in having this baby, so he willingly went over to the fireplace and pulled on the bell, and he waited for the butler to appear so that he could to do his bit.
After two hours of pacing the carpet Jackson could stand it no longer so he went to see
what was happening above stairs. He found his wife well into her labour and his medical instincts took over.
Mrs Moyer with a pleased smiled on her face, stepped back and let Jackson do his job.
Mr Moyer watched his son-in-law leave the room and then he looked across the room at Charlie and Clarence, “He is a fine lad, that son-in-law of mine.”
“He is indeed Mr Moyer, we love him, don’t we Clarence?”
“We sure do, and my Fran loved him too,” Clarence confirmed.
“As does my Ella,” agreed Charlie.
“And Blanche of course, we all love Blanche, isn’t that right Charlie?” Clarence asked.
“Of course, we all love Blanche, that should go without saying, she is one of our gang, has been from the very first day we met,” confirmed Charlie.
“Mind you, she does tend to encourage Ella in her escapades you know,” Clarence confided in Mr Moyer.
Mr Moyer nearly burst the buttons on his waistcoat when his chest swelled out and he stood two inches taller, Blanche has bagged herself a good catch after all, he thought, and carrying on with his thoughts, he decided to buy Jackson a present.
Mr Moyer cast around in his head for a suitable present he could buy for his son-in-law until he finally hit on the very thing, ‘a comb’, he would buy Jackson a comb.
Blanche had a little boy. He had a healthy pair of lungs that he exercised while Jackson bathed him gently in warm water then wrapped him up in a clean white towel before he took him over to Blanche and laid him on her chest.
Blanche cradled the little bundle to her and the baby stopped crying, but Blanche started.
After a few minutes, Jackson took the baby from Blanche and handed him to his grandma then he went back to his wife and wiped the tears from her face before kissing it soundly.
“That’s my girl,” and they hugged for a while.
“Right, while you ladies clean up here I will take my son downstairs to show the men. Charlie will be green with envy.”
Jackson walked into the dining room where Charlie, Mr Grundy and Mr Moyer were still gathered. All three men looked over at Jackson.
Jackson announced, “It’s a boy.”
“I knew it, I damn well knew it.” Mr Moyer slapped his leg to show his approval.
“Congratulations Jackson, are mother and baby doing alright?” Charlie asked.
Jackson took his son over to his grandpa and handed him over.
“Mother and baby are doing just fine,” Jackson told them with satisfaction.
Mr Moyer looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms and asked, “What are you going to call him?”
Jackson looked at all the Charlies gathered in the room and said, “Charles, because he is a proper little Charlie.”
Mr Moyer lifted the tiny bundle up to his lips and he kissed the baby’s soft forehead and as he did so the towel fell away to reveal an unusual amount of hair for a newly born baby and the thought that went through Mr Moyer’s head was, TWO COMBS.
