by Ray Scott
‘Well, not too long, but maybe tonight and tomorrow, got to be back by Wednesday.’
‘Good. We can have dinner at the pub and drink all night, it’s within walking distance so no worries about breathalysers.’
They left for the pub at around 7.00 that evening, before they left Ben went around the house carefully checking all the windows and doors.
‘Can’t be too careful,’ he said as he secured the front door. ‘I’ve just had extra locks put on this door and the back one.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Had a burglary some weeks back, some bastards broke the laundry window and stuck their hand in and just opened the laundry door. I’ve had a mortise lock put on it since. They didn’t take much, hardly anything at all, but it wasn’t a nice experience.’ Ben gave the front door lock a final turn. ‘Bloody good job Jane wasn’t here, she would have been frightened stiff sleeping here before I got the local locksmith in.’
‘Presume you were insured?’
‘Insured? Nah! We just couldn’t afford the premiums.’
They both chortled at that. In England and Australia there were frequent instances of houses being burnt down or ran-sacked by burglars with a miserable householder fronting up to the TV cameras saying: ‘…we weren’t insured…unfortunately!’ The operative word for this situation was not so much ‘unfortunately’ but ‘stupidly’!
‘The claim didn’t amount to much; mainly building damage – broken glass, I reckon they must have been disturbed, so far as I could see they took bugger all. But I’m putting in an alarm system next week, I keep some office records here and wouldn’t want those destroyed or stolen.’
‘Surprised with your insurance background you hadn’t got an alarm already.’
‘Frankly, so am I, ol’ son,’ said Ben sorrowfully. ‘It was a case of cobblers’ children. The office in Stratford is alarmed, and this should have been as well. I’m afraid we learn by our mistakes.’
Too bloody right, Wallace thought savagely as he remembered how he had been taken in by Kalim.
They had a good night and returned home late, had some strong coffee and then talked about old times. They reminisced about the Melbourne escapade when they had finished up in court, and gave their opinion on their four mates who had fled and abandoned them as the police descended.
‘I wonder what happened to them,’ Ben mused, and they spent the rest of the night discussing them and their respective fates. Wallace knew what had happened to two of them, one worked in the Victorian Parliament house as a public servant, and the other worked for the National Bank but he had lost track of the other two. Then they turned in for the night.
The next day Ben had to go to work and he came into Wallace’s bedroom early on with a cup of tea and then left him on his own in the house as Wallace was still feeling under the weather.
‘See you later tonight, ol’ son,’ he said.
He paused by the door as he went out.
‘Best get out of bed Harry, Liz arranged to come in to clean up and to prepare my evening meal. She should be in about 10.’
Wallace must have fallen asleep. He woke again at about 9 o’clock.
‘Ye Gods!’ he muttered and jack knifed out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. If Liz was coming in he didn’t want to be caught by her in bed or wandering about half dressed. He had a quick shower and tidied up his beard. He was descending the stairs when a key grated in the lock of the front door. The door opened and a young woman entered.
‘Oh!’
She was so startled she dropped her bag and keys on the floor. Wallace hastily backed up the stairs and raised his hands in the air.
‘Liz! Liz! It’s me!…Harry!’
Recognition dawned and her face lit up.
‘Harry! Where did you spring from?’
‘I’m in England for a few weeks. Ben’s putting me up for a couple of days.’
‘Why didn’t the bastard tell me? It’s good to see you Harry, how are you?’
They went through the usual pleasantries; she then gathered up her bag from the hall floor and carried it into the kitchen. As Wallace watched her move up the hallway, he had stirrings. She was certainly an attractive young woman now, a far cry from the leggy schoolgirl who had left Australia all those years ago. She had dark hair which she wore in a short hair style, and she was wearing a tight skirt that fitted her like a glove, and a tight white blouse that seemed to show more than it tried to hide. Her hips and buttocks moved rhythmically as she walked up the hallway to the kitchen.
‘Bloody hell!’ Wallace thought to himself.
She dumped her bag on the kitchen table and began taking items from it.
‘How long have you been in England?’ Liz asked.
‘About two weeks,’ Wallace answered guardedly. He had a possible problem here, unless her reading of newspapers was like Ben’s. He wasn’t sure how much his situation had been publicised, it was possible that after the initial flurry the murderous Henry Wallis was now dead news, especially as a scandal had broken over the infidelities of a Cabinet Minister during the past week and three members of a Premier League soccer team had been arrested after a brawl in a night club. The other point was that Wallace’s description and the name spellings had been so erratic that identification was problematical, with the advantage that his identity had been somewhat garbled by the press.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
Wallace nodded.
They managed some desultory conversation while the kettle boiled, it didn’t take long. She poured the water into the tea pot.
‘Do you like it strong?’
‘Yes please. Where are you living now, Liz?’
‘Not far away, I’m studying at a college in Leamington, but I said I’d look in on Ben while Jane was away.’
‘Where are your parents now?’
‘They’re living in the north of England now, don’t see much of them these days.’
‘How long have you been living in this area?’
‘Four years,’ she answered. She crossed her legs and Wallace found his eyes dropping and admiring her legs and ankles. It had long been one of his contentions that a woman’s legs are her main armament, apart from the ability to walk well. Any deficiencies elsewhere can be disguised, faces are quite unimportant as long as they indicate animation and interest, and can break out into a radiant smile. Yet legs are on view most of the time, despite the current high use of trouser suits, and a well shaped pair of legs will always turn heads. Wallace became aware that she was cognisant of his interest and he hastily averted his gaze. He could recall that even in her leggy school girl days, he had always had time for a second look below the knees.
‘What does your father do for a living?’
‘The employment market didn’t do him much good after we came back, I knew there were many occasions when he regretted coming back here.’
‘Why did he come back?’
‘He came back because he was a socialist; he thought everything should have been laid on for him.’ Liz wrinkled her nose as she spoke, something Wallace remembered from her early teenage days when she disapproved of something. ‘And of course, it wasn’t! In Australia you make your own way. Also he joined too many organisations catering for British migrants, I think these organisations merely attracted malcontents and made people homesick, they certainly affected my parents that way. How long did you say you’ve been here?’
‘Just visiting,’ Wallace replied, managing to partially evade the question.
‘What do you do for a living?’
‘I.…er…I give lectures…on insurance.’
‘Insurance?’
‘Insurance.’
That was not strictly true; though it was in the main. His presentations or lectures were mainly motivational, though it was true that much of his business came from the insurance industry because of his previous employment history and contacts.
There was a silence. They seemed to have exhausted t
hat topic.
‘What are you taking at Leamington?’
‘It’s a course in public relations, it’s quite interesting.’
She spent much time in the kitchen preparing food for Ben, and then placed it in the refrigerator. She then cleaned the house. Wallace looked around the house for newspapers, but didn’t find one, which was a relief.
She prepared a light meal for herself and Wallace and they ate it in the veranda, it was quite warm out there with the midday sun playing on it. They talked of Australia and the old days, and Wallace became aware that she was looking at him fixedly at times, when he became aware of it she hastily looked away. Wallace was guilty of the same thing, he found himself casting his eyes over her and admiring her feminine attractions, there was no doubt she was an eye catcher, everything was in the right place and in the right proportions, but what caught his attention most were her cultured accents and her ready smile.
She picked up the plates and took them into the kitchen, it was a straight walk of about 15 feet to the kitchen door from where Wallace was sitting, but he found her carriage and deportment was most disturbing and felt his groin twitch. She returned and picked up her bag.
‘I have to go now, Harry,’ she announced. ‘Will you be here tomorrow?’
‘For sure,’ Wallace replied, if she was coming in tomorrow wild horses wouldn’t have dragged him from the house.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’
She shouldered her bag, and made for the front door.
‘Great to see you again, Harry.’
The second night was a repetition of the previous one, Wallace and Ben descended upon another local pub. There was a television set in the bar and Wallace eyed it nervously from time to time, but the Ravindran murder seemed to be stale news. He couldn’t catch anything that looked like a report on any missing Australian political assassin. Ben had to make an early start the next morning and didn’t want to be too late so they both returned relatively early.
Wallace decided that it may be a good opportunity to ring McKay to see what had been happening at his end. Ben had a small office in one of the back rooms of the house, and when Wallace broached the subject he airily waved his hand at his sanctum.
‘Go for your life,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll turn in anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.’
McKay was pleased to hear from Wallace but so far he had no news.
‘We’re investigating that lease right now,’ he said. ‘If you know nothing about it then somebody must have signed it. Where are you now?’
‘I’m staying in Knowle with an old school mate of mine.’
‘Where the hell is that?’
‘It’s near Birmingham.’
‘Does he know you’re on the run?’
‘No! He doesn’t have time to read the papers.’
‘OK! Well tread carefully, the descriptions haven’t been too explicit and your name details have been a little erratic. Regarding the possible identification of Craddock, the shop is in Stourbridge High Street, it’s a book shop, selling all sorts of books but with a Left Wing bias, rights of the workers and all that, plus some fiction books. He lives in the town suburbs somewhere, it isn’t a large town. When will you be there?’
‘It will probably be tomorrow at a guess or possibly the next day.’
‘How are you getting there, by boat or train?’
‘I’ll take the boat,’ Wallace said. ‘There’s an arm of the canal at a place called Amblecote which isn’t far from the main town of Stourbridge, I’ll anchor the boat there and then walk into the town, or take a bus if there is one.’
‘Good. Keep in touch,’ and McKay rang off.
The next morning Ben arrived at Wallace’s bedside with a cup of tea again, Wallace felt like death but the tea was welcome.
‘See you later tonight, ol’ son,’ this seemed to be his usual mode of greeting or farewell, and he added. ‘But I may be late. I’ve got a difficult job to sort out, someone is trying to pirate one of my connections.’
That morning Wallace had decided to have a walk around the immediate neighbourhood, but he was forestalled as Liz appeared much earlier than expected. She arrived while he was still frying an egg in Ben’s frying pan.
‘Here, let me do that,’ she said and took the pan from him. ‘You go and lay the table, I’ll join you, I haven’t had any breakfast yet either.’
She was wearing another tight skirt today, which had a split down the one side, which was most alluring. She also wore a tight nylon top with a plunging “U” neckline. He felt his mouth go dry as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, once again being aware how long it had been since he had any close contact with a woman.
She did herself some eggs as well and they sat down again in the veranda. He managed to catch sight of her left hand. She had no rings on her fingers.
‘You’re not…um…not married yet?’ he asked clumsily.
‘No, I had two near misses but the first one drank too much.’
‘Oh!’ Wallace said, thinking uneasily of how much he and Ben had put away the previous night. ‘What about the second one?’
‘He was very straight laced, which was a change, but he was very possessive. We lived together for a spell, but he objected to me speaking to any other male, even when I was doing business. I was living with him the last time you came to England and he raised hell because I spoke to you about old times, if you remember.’
‘Yes I remember him, and I remember talking to you about the old days in Australia, but I didn’t realise there was an under current.’
‘Well there was. You weren’t the only one he took exception to; he was behaving like a gaoler in the end, so I escaped!’ Liz smiled as she said it.
‘Did he follow you?’
‘He did initially. We were living in Leeds at the time, I found a flat up there but he seemed to believe I was still his property and persisted in calling or waiting for me outside. So I asked Ben to find me somewhere down here.’
‘Near to here?’
‘Not far away. I came down here in a hurry and stayed with Ben and Jane and then I found my own place. What about you?’
‘No, that is, not any more. I married Elsie Palmer, remember her?’
‘Yes, I do remember her,’ she sniffed. ‘You say you married her?’
‘Yes, it wasn’t the happiest five years of my life. I’m divorced now.’
‘Not surprised, I never could stand that girl. What were you thinking of?’ Liz gave a grimace and wrinkled her nose again. ‘I could have told you what she was like.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I wasn’t around then, was I?’ she said defiantly. ‘I was forced back to England. But I never liked her. In fact I’d put it more strongly than that, I used to dislike her intensely, I thought she was a spoiled bitch.’
‘Well, that makes two of us,’ Wallace said feelingly. ‘I thought I loved her, but things changed as soon as the marriage took effect, she seemed to think she had to change me to her specifications.’
‘That sounds like her,’ Liz said pointedly.
They finished breakfast but didn’t quite know what to do next. She had cleaned the house thoroughly the previous day and though she made some perfunctory dustings here and there, it seemed to Wallace it could be his presence that had drawn her to the house for a second time and not any tasks she may have had in mind.
That presented something of a problem. In their younger days they had been quite close, despite there being about five years between them, a large gulf when one is 19 and the other aged 13 or 14, but not such a gulf when aged 32 and 26. As she moved around between veranda and kitchen, and made one trip into the back garden to pin something on the line, he felt sexual stirrings as he watched her move around, he wondered if she had taken lessons in deportment. As she stretched up to pin a hand towel onto the line he felt his palms sweat.
When she came back in, Wallace realised he would have to do something to take his mind
off things.
‘How about a trip out,’ he suggested brightly.
‘Good idea,’ she replied. ‘Where would you like to go?’
‘How about…um…is there anything around here of historical interest?’
‘Heaps, we’ve got Stratford, Warwick and Kenilworth Castles, take your pick.’
‘Great, let’s do that,’ Wallace said, removing his eyes from her cleavage with an effort.
She had her car outside. They took a trip to Kenilworth Castle, Wallace wasn’t too keen on Stratford in case they ran into Ben, despite his more noble intentions to remove any temptation he wanted Liz to himself.
They spent an enthralled morning pottering around Kenilworth Castle, an edifice that was in a remarkably good state of preservation. As they wandered around, Wallace found that his eyes were wandering all over her most of the time, and he hastily looked away whenever she turned towards him. She caught him at it several times, she gave no sign but she didn’t seem to ob ject.
‘Would you like a coffee?’ she asked eventually.
‘Yes,’ he replied. He caught sight of her reflection in the nearby shop window and managed to cast his eyes over her once more without being caught.
‘Come on then,’ she said. They entered a coffee shop and he found himself looking around suspiciously for possible members of the Warwickshire Constabulary or the Indonesian secret police. They sat down at a table and began to talk.
They talked of the old days in Melbourne, and then moved to music, he discovered that, like him, she was a traditional jazz fan.
‘Do you like jazz?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but traditional, I can’t stand modern,’ Wallace said. ‘We used to go to a few jazz club meetings back in Melbourne.’
‘We?’
‘Myself and Elsie…my dear ex-wife,’ Wallace laid emphasis on the ‘ex’.
‘So you and Elsie had something in common.’
‘That didn’t help in the long run,’ he replied. ‘You know what she was like, you probably knew her better than I did in my pre-marital days. She couldn’t admit fault with anything, she was always right, utterly intransigent. Maybe she thought I was. So we parted and it wasn’t friendly. Are you…do you have…that is…are you involved with anyone right now?’
