D&P23 - The Price of Butcher's Meat aka A Cure for all Diseases

by Reginald Hill

  I said—must be nice to have your own private beach—

  He said—strictly speaking its not aunties at all. Anything between the high tide & low tide marks belongs to the Crown—& the spring tides here reach several feet up the cliff—but it would take a bold trespasser to argue the point!—

  I couldnt argue with this. We soon reached the edge of the water—where he paused—staring out to sea—& said something I didnt catch.

  —sorry?—I said.

  He spoke again—more clearly—but I still couldnt make any sense of it.

  Seeing this he smiled—rather patronizingly I thought—& repeated the sounds.

  —thalatta thalatta—he declaimed (thats how its spelt—I checked it out on the Net)—the sea—the sea—

  —no argument there—I said—its the sea—sure enough—

  —its Greek—he said—tho I hadnt asked—its what the Greek army—in retreat from Marathon—all shouted in releif—when they breasted a hill & saw the Aegean—which meant they were home. I know how they felt—my own heart always swells when I glimpse our own dear North Sea—

  I suppose he was trying to impress me with his classical learning—& his poetic sensibility—but I just felt he was trying a bit too hard—plus when I checked the word on the Internet—I also got the history—& the plonker didnt even have his facts right! Not Marathon—but some place called Cunaxa—& not the Aegean—but the Black Sea!

  I said—OK—now weve established what it is—are we going to swim in it?—

  He said—of course—& then—youre not going to believe this—he pushed his trunks down—& stepped out of them—so there I was—standing alongside 1 0 4

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  this guy wearing nothing but his big nobbly Rolex—thats his watch I

  mean!—with his trio of womenfolk not thirty yards away.

  I said—for Godsake!—

  He said—dont be shocked—I always skinny-dip—

  I said—Ive got 4 bros—plus I grew up on a farm—Im not shocked—but what about Lady D—& the others?—

  He laughed & said—oh theyre used to it—auntie pretends to look the other way—but like many old country ladies she likes her meat well hung—& Ive often caught her taking a peek—

  —through powerful binoculars you

  mean?—I said—sneering—quite

  unjustly!—hed have made a donkey envious!—then waded out till the water was deep enough to dive into.

  He took his watch off—dropped it on his trunks—followed me in—came up alongside me—& stayed there—doing a pretty fair crawl—smiling at me from time to time—as if to say—dont worry—I wont sprint away & leave you—so youre quite safe—

  Well—you know me—not the fastest thing on fins—but can keep going forever.

  There was a buoy about 1⁄4 mile offshore. I fixed my eyes on it—& got into my rhythm. He stuck with me for a while—then dropped behind—& when I reached the buoy it was 3 or 4 minutes before he joined me. He tried a smile—but I could see he was knackered—& I started to feel guilty. Just cos he had a lousy chat- up line didnt mean he deserved to drown! & dragging that thing along beneath him must have been like a plane trying to take off with its flaps down!

  We clung on to the buoy for a few

  minutes—then I

  said—ready for

  home?

  He nodded—& I set off back—breaststroke this time—a lot slower—& it gave me room to keep an eye on him.

  By the time we reached the shallows—he was so whacked—a little wave knocked him over when he tried to stand up.

  Big- test time now—would he turn nasty—or could he take it?

  He collapsed on the sand. Wed come ashore about 30 feet from where wed left our gear.

  T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 0 5

  He gasped—do me a favor—Charley—fetch my trunks will you?—Id like to be buried decent—but not at sea—please!—

  So that was OK. Dont mind a prat—so long as he can laugh at himself.

  I fetched his watch & his trunks—he made himself decent—then we sat on the sand together—warming ourselves in the sun—till he got his breath back.

  I said—do you ski as well as you swim?—

  He said—better—youll be glad to hear—but I usually keep my clothes on.

  Why?—

  I said—I was out in Switzerland before Christmas—near Davos—bunch of my mates from uni—thought I saw your sister there—at a dance—but could be wrong. Kind of place us poor students party at—not really her thing—I shouldnt think—

  He pulled a face & said—might well have been—Aunt Daph had a rush of blood to the head—took me & Ess on a skiing holiday last Christmas—near Davos—

  That was generous of her—I said—where were you staying?—Morasinis?—

  The Fluela?—

  —O no—he

  laughed—dear aunties not that

  generous!—we had a

  chalet—but in fairness it was very comfortably appointed—

  —so why would Esther be moving & grooving with the plebs?—I

  pressed.

  —why not?—he said in the casual tone the upper classes use to disguise an evasion.—Could be there was a ski instructor she fancied—holiday

  romance—no strings—no harm—but wouldnt do for auntie—

  I almost asked—whats it to do with her?—but I didnt need to—being such a clever observer of human behavior! She who pays the piper calls the tune—right? Lady D definitely would not care for the prospect of any of her money—now or later—fi nding its way into the pocket of a penniless foreigner.

  So if her beloved neice wanted to stay in her good books & her will—shed better pick her young men v carefully. The HB feels much the same—so the way youre going—Ill probably be getting your share!

  I was also recalling that—according to George—Emil was a student—not a ski instructor. Teddy—I thought—either youre lying—or Ess lied to you—

  1 0 6

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  I said—so Esther went slumming with us plebs—& Lady D never found out—

  He said—happily auntie had her own affairs to divert her—

  The way he stressed affairs got me curious—but our interesting chat must have been observed—for now it was interrupted by a sergeant- major bellow—Teddy!—what are you doing down there?—Time for lunch!—

  The bart flinched—& made a face—but he still started to get to his feet.

  Shes really got him at the end of a leash—I thought as we headed back to the group. Must be hard for both of them—having to be careful who they got the hots for in case Lady D disapproved. Wonder how shed feel about me?

  I was soon to find out!

  The women

  were all on their feet. Clara was gathering up their stuff—bags—towels—Lady Ds folding chair—while Esther gazed out to sea like she was trying to freeze it over. Lady D greeted me with a stern look—then she said—Miss Heywood—if you could lend me your arm—too much sitting makes me stiff—

  Not much sign of stiffness—the speed with which she walked me away from the others—but it quickly became clear what she wanted was a private chat.

  —a word to the wise—she said—Teddy is a fine young man—

  —yes—I noticed—I said.

  That got me a sharp glance—then she went on—but alas—he may flatter to decieve—

  —you mean hes not to be trusted with a girls affections!—I exclaimed—all shock horror.

  —of course I dont mean that!—I am talking of his circumstances—she declared—He may look like a good

  catch—big

  mansion—expensive

  watch—but Denham Park is entailed—cannot be sold—& needs more spent on it in repairs than it would probably fetch anyway. As for the watch . . .

  —Yes—I noticed the Rolex—I said—all bright eyed—thinking no harm in letting the old cow peg me as a predatory
fortune hunter—could lull her into a false sense of security if I decide to have me wicked way with the bart!—That must be worth 5 thou of anyones money!—

  T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 0 7

  —yes indeed—she said triumphantly—mine!—it was Sir Harrys—my late husbands—Teddys uncle. I gave it to Teddy as a memento—there was nothing in the will—you understand—but I beleive Sir Harry would have wanted it—family meant much to him—& as Teddys circumstances have meant he has had to part with many Denham heirlooms—it is good he should retain at least one item—to remind him of dear Harry—& better days—

  Meaning—I interpreted—that Teddy wouldnt dare flog it—cos shed be

  asking him the time whenever they met!

  Well—I had news for her—Id wondered why the bart took off his Rolex before entering the water—those things are supposed to be still working when theyre dredged up from a ten year old shipwreck. So when I collected the guys trunks—I checked it out—& its definitely a Hong Kong job—20 quid off a sampan—you could bend the expanding “gold” bracelet with two fingers if you took a fancy to! I reckon Ted-on- the-rocks has flogged the original—& invested in a fake—to fool auntie. Could explain how come he could afford a Buell. That

  won- it-in-a-lottery story had

  sounded pretty feeble!

  Good for him!—I thought—& I said to her—yes—I understand—& Im sure someone as attractive—& talented—as Teddy will have little difficulty in fi nding someone his equal in name—& his superior in income—

  Nicely put—eh?

  She nodded—&

  smiled—&

  said—Im so pleased we understand each

  other—my dear—now I must toil up this path to lunch—

  She let go of my arm—& Ess—whod been veiwing our tete- a-tete with great

  suspicion—went into ministering angel

  mode—leaping forward—

  presumably to ensure Lady Ds foot did not dash against a stone.

  Her ladyship did not look at her—but gazed on me assessingly. I guessed she wanted to reward me for being a sensible peasant—possibly with an invite to lunch—which I wasnt crazy about—but might just accept—to put Esthers nose out of joint!

  Then she said—in a very mea sured extremely condescending tone—Miss Heywood do tell Tom Parker to bring you to my hog roast this Sunday—

  Her hog roast—which—according to Mary—the consortium was paying for!

  1 0 8

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  I resisted the temptation to do a curtsy—& said—that would be lovely—but Im probably going home on Saturday—

  I expected her to react sort of amazed anyone could turn down a royal invite—instead she said—yes—of course—your family must miss you—family loyalties are so important. Come if you change your mind—meanwhile—do feel free to stay here as long as you

  like—& dont be afraid to come

  again—whenever the public beach is full—

  There! In my place—or what?

  I felt like kicking sand in her face.

  Instead I said—very dignified—thank you—so kind—but I really ought to get back to my friends—& off I stalked!

  Id gone about a dozen yards when Teddy caught up with me.

  —dont take any notice of the old bat—he said—she cant help it—still thinks were living in the dark ages!—

  Which might have impressed me with his independence—if he hadnt still been whispering—for fear of being overheard!

  I said—better get

  back—else you might be sent to bed without any lunch—

  He grinned—hes got a great grin—& said—who cares about lunch—so long as the company in beds good? Look—Id like to see you again—soon—

  I said—pushing it—is that an invitation to Denham Park then?—or do you need permission to invite someone to your own home?—

  He winced—then said—of course not—though I warn you—the plumbings terrible! What Id really like is to give you a ride—on the Beast I mean. You could borrow Ests leathers. The trick is—to get the full experience—not to wear anything at all underneath!—

  Who writes this guys scripts?!!

  But—like a good thriller—it may be a load of crap—but you cant stop reading it!

  I said—Ill think about it—& scrambled over the rocks—back to the main beach—even more crowded now than before. Suddenly the peace & friendli-ness of Kyoto House seemed very attractive.

  So off I set to trudge back up the hill.

  T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 0 9

  But my exciting adventures werent over yet!

  However—youll have to wait for the next exciting episode—as I have to go & interview a woman who says that an infusion of whortleberries & a nettle oil massage have taken 20 years off her age.

  You see—Im a working girl too!

  Much love

  Charley xxx

  15

  FROM:

  charley@whiffle.com

  TO:

  cassie@natterjack.com

  SUBJECT: sex on wheels!

  Hi again!

  Well that was fun! If the berries & nettles have made her 20 years younger—

  she must have been nigh on 100 before. Fits under my grasping at straws category. Ready to beleive anything except that youre going to die.

  Back to the land of the living. Now where was I . . . ? Oh yes. The foot of the hill.

  The road up North Cliff seemed a lot steeper than when Id come down—& showing off to the bart had taken more out of me than I thought.

  By the time I reached Witch Cottage I was ready for a rest—so I sat on the little garden wall. There was an ancient motorbike plus sidecar parked outside. Some poor sod hoping to alleviate his saddle soreness by having needles stuck in his bum—I theorized.

  I heard the door open behind me—& glanced round to see Yan Lee ushering a man out. He was wearing motorbike leathers—& putting on a

  helmet—but the brambly beard was a dead giveaway. It was Gordon Godley—the healer from Willingdene. I remembered Tom saying hed agreed to come over—to check the setup here in Sandytown. Remembered too my sense he knew a lot more about the setup here than hed let on.

  & when I saw them exchange a hug & a kiss—not a one cheek peck either—but a full lip job—I thought hello!—not so unworldly after all—bit of pillow talk going on here Id guess—wonder if theres a book on faith healing in that Teach Yourself series!

  T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 1 1

  When he clocked me sitting on the wall—he stopped dead in his tracks like hed seen a rabid Doberman. Behind him Miss Lee gave me her little Oriental bob—went back

  inside—& closed the

  door—leaving him & me

  standing facing each other—both stock still—like a pair of gunfighters in a spaghetti western—each waiting for the other to make a move. While his bik-ing leathers didnt do for him what they did for the bart—they did have a juvenating effect—& I adjusted my estimate of his age down a few notches—more 45 than 55—

  He cracked first & finally started toward me like a man on his way to the gallows!

  Funny—not nice having a really off-putting effect on somebody—not even somebody you dont care a toss about! Id have moved off without passing the time of day—but I felt I owed it to Tom to make it clear—in case Mr G

  hadnt grasped it on our previous meeting—that I wasnt a permanent blot on the village landscape. Wouldnt want it on my conscience that I was responsible for putting the Sandytonians out of reach of godly Gordons healing hands!

  So I said

  brightly—hello—Mr Godley. Charlotte Heywood—remember?

  (Not that there was much doubt of that—the way he was looking at me!)—On your way to see Mr Parker—are you? Im staying with the family for a couple of days. Its lovely round here—isnt it? (Doing my best to give the place a puff!)—but I wont be
sorry not to have to face this hill every day—

  Even as I said it—I thought—oh no!—sounds like youre trying to hitch a ride!

  Sure enough—what I could see of his face beneath the fungus turned color a couple of times—like you when youre nerving yourself up to go in off the high board!—then he mumbled something about a lift.

  My first instinct was to say—no way!—

  Then I thought—dont be a prat—youve cut off your nose to spite your face once already by letting Lady Ds patronizing ungraciousness drive you off her empty beach. Its stupid—& bloody difficult!—to cut off your nose again.

  So—a moment later—I was sitting in the sidecar—bouncing up the hill!

  1 1 2

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  I couldnt help but contrast the Godley motorbike experience with what Teddy Denham had promised me on the pillion of the Beast. This was a bit like being dragged behind a tractor—in an old tin bath! At least it meant I didnt have to make small talk.

  When we got to Kyoto I hopped out—said thanks—& dashed inside—yelling at Tom as I passed his workroom—Mr Godleys here!—

  When I got to my room—I met Minnie coming out. Said shed been looking for me—but I wasnt fooled. I remember when I was her age—I was always looking for a chance to get my sticky little fingers on your gear & makeup! I said I wanted to get out of my wet cozzie—& went in—thinking shed stay outside. But she followed me in—& sat on the bed watching as I toweled down—like she was a judge at a gymnastics floor exercise—so I said—OK

  how many points do I get?—& she said—quick as a flash—7 for performance—

  8 for interpretation—

  Cheeky little cow—but you cant help but like her.

  I took the chance to pump her for info about Miss Lee & Lady D—not that it took much pumping!

  Seems Miss Lee got Witch Cottage on a long lease from Lady Ds land agent—whose arthritis shed fixed with a couple of judiciously placed pins.