‘Tom has discovered they’re clearing the shed, the one in the churchyard, where we stored the trunks. We need to move the shoes, and soon. According to Tom, we’ve a week, at most.’ Miranda went on.
‘Why don’t we store them in the tunnel? We could use the side passage that leads to the school from the tunnel proper, I’m sure the trunks would fit in there. Then they wouldn’t be in your way. The tunnel proper would still be clear.’
Ben was shaking his head, looking pensive. ‘It’s not possible Miranda, sorry.’
‘But this is a crisis, we need to get going and move them now. Don’t you understand?’
Ben laughed and grinned at Miranda. ‘Now, this minute? You and I, and maybe young Thomas? Just like before, it was really easy. I’m sure you remember.’ Miranda’s eyes flashed.
‘Fine, don’t help me, I’ll do it on my own, I don’t need you, or anybody like you. It’s all very well, you laughing at me, but the shoes still have to be moved from the shed. Imagine if somebody found them in there.’
‘Oh, I am,’ said Ben, ‘I’m imagining everything, more than you would ever believe.’ He stopped smiling and stared at Miranda. Miranda felt her face go red. Ben grinned, broadly.
‘The shoes aren’t the issue that’s standing between us and you and I know it. But it can’t go anywhere, you’re far too young for me, Miranda.’ Miranda stared at Ben disbelieving.
‘How dare you say that I’m too young! I’ve been running our pub for years on my own, while Ma’s been out doing God knows what. When I first started work in the bar, I had to stand on a crate to serve, I couldn’t even reach the counter without it. If it wasn’t for all the work I put in, we’d have lost our pub when Da keeled over, and might do yet, which is why I have to move those shoes. With or without your help, Ben Tencell.’ She glared at Ben. ‘That tart came into the pub again, Tanya Curtis, you know who I mean.’
‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘She’s been spreading some rumours about your ma. I’m not going to ask if they’re true or not.’
‘My ma’s bereaved,’ Miranda said, and wished she hadn’t. She sounded defensive.
‘She was bereaved,’ said Ben gently. ‘Time has moved on and so should she. I should know, doing what I do.’ He glanced around at the coffin lids.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘I understand more than you think,’ said Ben. He reached across and grabbed her hand, brushed her cheek with his lips softly. ‘We’ll move those shoes, like we did before. We’ll find a way, I promise you that. But, we still can’t move them into the passage.’
‘So tell me why not?’ It seemed the perfect place to Miranda. But Ben turned away, he seemed to be having some sort of struggle. Then he turned back.
‘Because we need the passage for access. Wetherby likes to use that route to get to the tunnel, and also the church. He and I are in partnership.’
‘The church?’ said Miranda. ‘I don’t understand. And you and he are in partnership? In the business, you mean?’ She looked around.
‘In business, yes, but not my business, in the antiques business. Here, I’ll show you.’
He opened a cupboard under the bench and pulled out a sack, then lifted it carefully onto the workbench, moving a coffin lid out of the way. She watched him open the sack with ease and pull something out, something quite heavy. Miranda gasped.
‘You mustn’t tell a soul Miranda. Promise me now, you’ll not tell anyone. Just like I did with the shoes, remember?’
Miranda barely heard him speak. All she could do was stare at the object. There in his hand was a silver chalice. It was clear to her it had come from a church.
Chapter 57
Now – Aleph
I was sitting at home, waiting for Alice. After our last, rather fraught meeting, something had shifted, with Cressida anyway. Now she was hoping I’d talk to Alice, to try to find out what was wrong.
‘Remember what happened the last time she visited.’
‘Can’t you just send the ghosts away, at least for a while?’ We were on the phone, so she couldn’t see what I thought of her comment. I didn’t bother answering.
‘I’ll assume that’s a no then, shall I, Aleph?’
‘Send her round whenever you like. But if she won’t stay, you know I can’t make her.’
‘Fine,’ said Cressida. ‘I’ll send her round, as soon as she’s home.’
The rest of the day dragged on, relentless. Guinevere James had rung me twice; I’d left the phone to ring both times. I was up to my ears in a tedious transcript, a rather predictable business analysis. I toyed with the thought of giving up counselling, or any kind of paid work, and taking myself round the world for a year. It didn’t appeal. Then the door bell rang.
‘Alice,’ I said and smiled at the girl. Why don’t you come in?
Alice waltzed in, looking older and even more self-assured than before. She wandered ahead of me into the kitchen.
‘There’s nobody here, apart from us.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m glad about that.’ I offered her tea.
‘I’d rather have coffee, if you don’t mind.’ Her new adult voice was quite like her mother’s.
‘Just like your mum,’ I told her, smiling.
‘It’s about the only thing we have in common.’
‘Apart from being female.’
‘Huh!’ said Alice. We sat at the table, me with my notes.
‘Where’s your iPad?’ I asked her, smiling.
‘I don’t need it.’
‘I’d noticed,’ I told her. Perhaps she thought she could trust me now.
‘Your name’s Aleph,’ she said to me then, stating the obvious.
‘Always has been,’ I told her, smiling.
‘Some people change their names,’ she said. She didn’t much like me humouring her.
‘True,’ I said, ‘but not in my case. I’ve always been Aleph.’
‘It’s an odd sort of name. What does it mean?’
‘Ox, I believe. It’s also the first letter of the Hebrew word emet, and that means truth.’
‘Are you truthful?’
‘Sometimes,’ I said. ‘I try to be.’ But would a reversal say something different?
‘Isn’t it better to keep quiet, sometimes, if telling the truth can cause people pain?’
‘It all depends on the case in question. Some things are better not said, that’s true.’ Or done, I thought.
She leaned towards me looking pensive. ‘I was there that day, when you hit – the boy. I saw it happen.’
‘Were you?’ I said, my blood running cold. While the heart inside me beat faster than ever.
‘I saw him run from between the parked cars. He ran into the road and I saw what happened.’
‘Right,’ I said, but my mind was racing, zoning out. I got to my feet and walked to the window, stared at the courtyard, once a graveyard. I was scared, frozen. Behind me, Alice still sat at the table, silent as the graves I looked at.
‘Did you see anyone apart from us? Me and the boy?’
‘I saw an old man but he didn’t see me. At least, I don’t think so, but he did see what happened. I noticed him staring.’
So she had been there, she was telling the truth. That might be the reason for some of her behaviour. ‘Have you told your mother what you saw?’
‘No,’ said Alice, smiling suddenly. The smile seemed wrong, and somehow shocking. ‘She only knows what I want her to know. It’s our secret, yours and mine. And you won’t tell her, will you Aleph, you know it will only make me worse. I’ll talk even less, if you tell her. Now would you mind if we talked about Tom?’
I didn’t have much experience of kids but I still thought Alice’s behaviour was odd. She’d been so serious when we talked about Daniel but talking about Tom was a different matter. It was hard to focus on what she was saying, I was still reeling from what she’d imparted and wondering what to say to her mother.
‘You know Tom’s dead?’ she said to me then.
&nb
sp; ‘What?’ I said.
‘He’s a boy from the past, he’s not alive now. But I guess you know that already, Aleph, if you’ve heard me talking on the recording. The one I did with Alison Clipper.’ She smiled, slyly.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve heard the recording, and in reverse you said he was dead, but you weren’t going to say so, not to Alison.’
Alice nodded and looked rather cross. ‘I never thought all that stuff would work, playing the sound files in reverse. I’m not having anything else recorded.’
I smiled at that. ‘That’s fine by me. I’d have to have your permission, anyway.’
‘That’s alright, then, I won’t give it.’ Suddenly, Alice the child was back.
‘How can you talk to Tom, Alice, if he’s dead?’
‘I don’t know. I made him use the iPad at first, because that’s what I do with everyone to begin with, but then, if I want to, we can talk, like you and I are. He took me back to see his house.’
‘Did you like it there?’ I nearly said, On Haversham Road?
‘I did and I didn’t. It was dark and grim, and the factory towered over most of the houses and the gutters were flooded and overflowing. It smelt awful.’
‘And the good things?’ I said. Alice grinned.
‘It was fun, and exciting to go somewhere different, and in the past. Tom said the next time, I can meet Norah, she’s Ben’s horse; Ben’s his friend, and Tom said he’d show me a secret tunnel.’
‘I don’t think going in a tunnel is wise. It might collapse and land on your head.’
Alice’s look said, I’m not a baby, but she didn’t argue, just nodded agreement. ‘Fine, I won’t go.’ I didn’t believe her.
‘I think you ought to talk to your mum. Before you go on any trips with Tom. Tunnel or not.’
But Alice was shaking her head, firmly.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t do that. I never talk to my mother now.’
Chapter 58
Then – Miranda
The next evening, when it was dusk, Miranda walked up to Curdizan High, heading up Croston and then Convent Court, slipping through the alley to Curdizan Church. She was praying she wouldn’t see Mary-Ann. She passed through the gate into the churchyard, and made for the shed.
Jake had given Tom the key, under sufferance, so he’d said. ‘You’ll get me shot for this, Thomas Islip.’
‘No-one will ever know, I promise. It’s just for a mate.’
Miranda knew she had to be careful. The wood in the shed was stacked how they’d left it and in the right place to hide the trunks, although getting up close to the trunks was hard. It wouldn’t be such a problem for Tom, Miranda considered, when he takes the first stock to Percy. But, as for the rest, where could they put it? She went outside and up to the door.
The key turned easily in the lock and Miranda stood at the top of the steps. She used her lamp to light her way and made her way down to the basement, carefully. Wishing today was a soup-kitchen-Sunday. Thankfully, the place was deserted. She swung her lamp around as she walked. She needed to find a storage space.
The basement wasn’t designed for storage. There was one huge cupboard and plenty of space underneath several benches. All of the space was clearly visible and quite unsuitable for hiding trunks. Then she saw the small door to the right, with the key still in it. Jake must have left it there for me.
It was so tempting. She didn’t know why she wanted to look. The door led into the narrow passage, the one that led to the wider tunnel, the tunnel she’d walked with Ben and Thomas. And although the passage was narrow and dark, she had the light and the courage to face it. I’m looking for stock if anybody finds me. Nobody did.
It didn’t take long to reach the tunnel. She slipped through the door, was suddenly wary. What if there were some rats about? There, to the right, were the steps which led to the crypt of the church, Mary-Ann’s church. Miranda wondered if she should climb them. Because of what she’d learnt last night.
‘Undertaking’s a badly paid business. And joinery too, when you’re working for Pike. Teaching young lads to use a saw, for very little pay and far less thanks.’
So when Ben had heard some news from a mate, that the mate had some stock which needed selling, and better still, would be getting some more, he’d struck a deal, to take the goods off him. The job was big, too big for Wetherby, he needed a bloke who could store the goods and polish them up, even transport them and then sell them on.
‘And that was you,’ said Miranda, bitterly. First my mother and now Ben, why am I surrounded by thieves? Her heart contracted.
‘Yes, that was me, and no, I’m not sorry, it’s made me much richer, which means I can offer some funerals more cheaply and help the poor bury their dead. Because I can afford to. So it’s not all bad, whatever you think.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘But don’t go sharing this story around. Others might want a cut of my earnings.’
‘Or they might want to shop you,’ Miranda snapped. ‘So where does all of this ‘stock’ come from?’
‘Mostly old buildings, deconsecrated churches, that sort of thing. The vicar has left, the owner has died, and there’s no-one around to claim the goods. If it’s a church, the money could be useful for the person who gets it, for improvement work or alms for the poor.’
And you think I’ll believe all that? Miranda felt bitter. ‘Was there stuff from McCarthy’s house?’ Ben looked startled.
‘No, of course not. I told you, Miranda, these are goods from older buildings like churches and manors and some unwanted haunts of the rich. Not from blokes like Matt McCarthy.’
‘He might not have lived in a stately home, but to people like me, McCarthy was rich,’ Miranda said, grimly.
‘Yeah, right,’ Ben agreed, looking rather sheepish. ‘But you must see now why we can’t use the tunnel for storing your shoes? The tunnel is how we shift the goods. And Wetherby needs to have access from the school.’
‘They’re not my shoes! But I do understand. You can’t be seen to be moving them in daylight.’
‘No,’ said Ben and looked embarrassed, uncomfortable almost. Miranda felt bitter. How quickly the dreams of passion were tarnished.
And so, a night later, there she was, standing in the passage and staring at the steps that led to the crypt.
Remembering talking to Tom and Ben, suggesting they store the shoes in the crypt. And Ben saying no. She wondered why.
She gritted her teeth and made for the steps. As Tom had discovered, the door wasn’t locked. The crypt was cool and dark as the night and the smell of old churches rose up to greet her. She drifted around, examining the space, swinging her lamp which flickered a lot. I wonder what I’m looking for?
She headed towards the steps upstairs, the ones that led to the nave of the church but her exit was barred by a wrought iron gate. Miranda stopped at the top of the steps. The gate was more or less shoulder height and far too high for her to climb over, wearing a dress. The gaps in the railing were also too narrow for her to squeeze through. Tom must have climbed the gate, she thought. She shook it again, it was definitely locked.
Miranda walked back down to the crypt, heading for the door that led to the tunnel, when she noticed some crates piled high in the corner. The sort that were used for fruit and veg but why would such boxes be sitting here? Miranda walked towards the crates, stretched out a hand and felt in the top, pushing aside some sacking to do so. What emerged, with a bit of a struggle, was a silver cup and further rifling produced jugs and a plate. Miranda was stunned. This didn’t look like discarded stock, but rather like treasure to kit out a palace. She stepped back quickly. She didn’t much like the smell of all this, and she liked it being stored in a church even less. She shoved the goods back into the boxes then hurried away as fast as she could. Once she’d descended the steps to the tunnel, she closed the door with a bang, and fast. Not hearing the high-pitched clang that followed as a jug bounced onto the floor from a crate.
Miranda hurried alo
ng the passage and back to the basement as fast as she could. She went back outside, shocked by what the crypt had revealed and no further forward regarding the shoes. She stood in the churchyard, silent, thinking. Then she remembered the second boot, the one her mother had stored in her bag. Damn, she thought, I should have dealt with the boot first of all. But where had she left it?
She found the boot by the workshop door and carried it carefully back to the shed. Once inside, she squeezed her way through the wood to the trunks and gingerly opened the first one she saw. Then she shoved the boot down the side of the trunk, where it lay half-crushed in amongst the rest. Miranda sighed and dusted her hands.
Having a boot in the bar for luck was fair enough and a good thing to do, but why her ma had kept the second, the other half, was a mystery to her. If someone found the second boot, it wouldn’t do much for the old legend and people might gossip about Matt McCarthy’s link to her mother. And a bigger pile of brand new shoes.
Which needed a new hiding place.
Miranda was feeling more than dejected. Apart from removing a single boot, all she’d done was discover more problems, big problems. The thought of the jugs and the cup bothered her.
Chapter 59
Then – Thomas
I was feeling harassed, and tired. I’d been up at dawn to do the deliveries, fruit and veg all over the place, and then there was school, doing sums and prayers and other daft rubbish. Now, I was meant to be at the pub. I couldn’t be late for my shift yet again.
I waited for Pike to turn his back; since he’d been talking about clearing the shed, I’d gone right off him. Not that I’d been that smitten before. But when I thought of the effort we’d made, and all for nothing, I felt really peeved.
A few minutes later, I slipped the leash, dashed out of the room and hurried downstairs. The front door was locked while school was on so I made my way out through the joinery workshop. I nodded to Jake as I hurried through the back door, stepped into the churchyard and stopped abruptly. Wasn’t that Eisen by the woodshed? Talking to a lad who looked like Carson, Conrad Carson, who was meant to be missing.
Shadows of the Lost Child Page 17
