Finn raised an eyebrow.
“She’s nice enough, but she loves to gossip. She’s one of those women who thrive on other people’s misfortunes. It's as if she’s a harbinger of doom.”
Kieran glanced at the floor and then back at Finn.
“I’ve probably said too much. All I’m saying is don’t take too much notice of some of the things she says.”
“What about the man who we bought this house from? I understand he lives in this road and our house belonged to his father.”
Kieran nodded.
“That’s what I’m trying to say. Just take what your neighbour says with a pinch of salt, and it’s probably best not to get to know Henry Buxton too well either.”
“Henry Buxton? Is that who I bought the house from?”
Kieran nodded again. “Yeah, he lives at number five.”
Jack stirred and snuffled.
“Thanks for the food and beer, but I’d best be getting on with things. It looks like Jack’s waking and he’ll probably want feeding.”
Kieran stood up to leave.
“Sorry the place is such a mess, I’m nowhere near finished unpacking. We moved in two weeks ago and I’ve still got loads of stuff to sort out,” said Finn.
“Don’t worry, we moved into this road over twenty years ago and we have things in the attic still in boxes.”
Finn smiled.
“If you need a hand with lugging stuff up to your attic, let me know. I’d be more than happy to help.”
“I might just do that,” replied Finn shaking Kieran’s hand.
Kieran crossed the road to his house where Linda, his wife, was waiting for him.
“Did you tell them?”
Kieran shook his head.
“No, but I’m sure it won’t be long before they find out.”
Chapter 10
Jack was crying. His tiny voice was getting louder and was interrupted by sharp inhales of breath.
Sophie rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. Six fifteen. She sighed, stretched and yawned. Finn was next to her and out for the count. She looked at him with a pang of jealousy. She was desperate for more sleep. If she had her way, she'd stay in bed for a week.
She carried Jack downstairs and fed him whilst watching television. She struggled to keep her eyes open as Jack suckled.
After Jack had finished feeding, his little eyes closed, and he drifted back to sleep. It wasn’t long before Sophie joined him and fell asleep in the chair, holding him tightly against her.
Just after seven she was woken by Finn clattering around the kitchen making breakfast.
“Morning sleepy head,” said Finn as he brought Sophie toast and tea.
She smiled and placed Jack in his Moses basket.
“If you prefer there’s pasta in the fridge from last night.”
“You didn’t cook did you?”
“No, our nice neighbour Kieran brought it. He stopped over for a chat. I didn’t wake you, I didn’t think you’d appreciate it.”
Sophie nodded as she took a bite of toast.
“What did he have to say?” asked Sophie, wiping butter from the side of her face.
“Oh, you know this and that. He offered to help me get these boxes up to the loft.”
“That’s nice of him.”
“He told me something we should know. He said we shouldn’t pay too much attention to Ruth.”
“Ruth, who’s Ruth?”
“She's the lady next door. He said she’s the street gossip. He reckons we should be careful of her.”
“I’ll try to remember that. I won’t tell her any of our big secrets,” said Sophie with a glint in her eye.
“Kieran also said we shouldn’t get too involved with Henry Buxton. He’s the guy from whom we bought this house. It belonged to his dad.”
“What happened to Henry’s dad?”
“Kieran didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. But from what I gather Ruth will be chomping at the bit to tell us any juicy gossip.”
Finn cleared the dishes and returned to the lounge.
“I’ve got to pick up Rosie from your sister’s at nine. It’s a nice day, and I thought I’d walk instead of drive. I think Rosie would enjoy the walk.”
“Okay, but be quick. I’m alone with a two-day-old tiddler.”
Finn left the house at eight fifteen and made his way along Whitcombe Fields Road. It was a glorious August morning, and despite being early, the sun made him perspire. He stopped and took a minute to consider how lucky he was. He had a beautiful wife and daughter and was now father to an amazing little boy. Everything was falling into place.
From the corner of his eye he saw he was being observed by a figure behind a net curtain. He was standing outside number five, Henry Buxton’s house. Finn tried not to stare and recalled what Kieran had told him the previous evening.
He turned onto the High Street and called into the newsagent for a magazine and as he left the shop he noticed something he’d not remembered seeing before.
Across the road was an antique shop. He stopped and looked. He’d driven along the road hundreds of times over the years and couldn’t recall it being there.
It wasn’t even eight thirty, and the shop was open.
The shopkeeper had hung a ‘closing down’ banner from the window.
Closing down? thought Finn. He crossed the road to take a closer look.
An old man was carefully wrapping ornaments in bubble wrap and placing them in boxes. Most of the display cases were empty. There were pictures hanging on the wall. He was drawn to a beautiful painting of a huge black bird soaring over a landscape of trees.
The old man moved towards the display and smiled at Finn through the window. He opened a display case which contained necklaces, rings and brooches.
Finn spotted a gold ring with two patterns etched onto its face. There was something familiar about the patterns. He became fascinated by the red circular symbols. He was mesmerised until he was distracted by the man tapping on the window. The shopkeeper gestured at Finn to enter the shop.
He pushed the door and heard the ping of a bell which rang as it opened. The place smelt musty and old. In the corner where the wall met the ceiling was a damp patch and the paint was flaking.
“I’ve lived around here for years and before today I’ve never noticed your shop,” said Finn as he gazed around the half empty display cases.
“Better late than never,” replied the old man.
“And now you’re closing down?”
“Better never than late,” said the old man with an air of sadness.
“How long have you had this shop?”
“Longer than I care to remember.”
Finn looked at the ring in the display case.
“Do you like it?”
Finn didn’t answer, he continued to admire the ring.
“Would you like a closer look?”
“Huh, um, sorry yes please.”
The old man gave Finn the ring.
He took the ring from the shopkeeper in his right hand and instinctively pushed out the middle finger of his left hand. The ring slipped into place. Again, Finn fixed his eyes upon the patterns. He was drawn to them and as he studied the ring in the sunlight streaming through the window he sensed something deep inside urging him not to remove it.
The shopkeeper passed him a jeweller’s loupe.
“Here, use this.”
He looked through the eyeglass and saw that the two circular patterns were not engraved into the ring, they were tiny individual red stones which had been placed into grooves etched into the face of the ring.
“Wow, the workmanship is outstanding,” said Finn as he examined the detail of the ring.
“Are those rubies?”
The shopkeeper nodded.
“Amazing!”
Reluctantly, Finn tried to slide the ring from his finger, but it wouldn’t move. He tried again, but it was jammed behind the joint of his finger.
“It slid o
n easily enough, why won’t it come off?”
“Let me help,” said the shopkeeper. “Hold on young man, we need something to lubricate that finger, something to help slide that ring off.”
The shopkeeper disappeared through a door and returned with a plastic bottle of washing up liquid.
“This should get it off for you,” he said as he rubbed the soapy liquid into Finn’s finger. “Have a go now.”
Finn pulled at the ring, but it wouldn’t move.
“It’s stuck fast,” said Finn, with a hint of panic in his voice.
“Just relax, panicking won’t make it any easier.”
Finn admired the ring, and the truth was, he didn’t want to give it back. There was something about it that made him feel different. It was a feeling he’d not experienced before.
Finn Maynard wasn’t a shy person, but he wasn't a man who stood out in a crowd. Throughout his life he’d been someone who was comfortable in the middle ground. Happy not to rock the boat unless he felt passionate about something. He was the sort of man that didn’t go out of his way to make friends, but once he’d befriended someone, they’d soon discover how lucky they were to know him. Finn was a true gentleman.
But wearing the ring made him feel different. He felt assertive and more decisive.
“How much is it?” asked Finn.
“That’s a good question, but I’m afraid I don’t know. Wait there while I find my book.”
The shopkeeper rummaged around boxes and crates looking for a book in which he’d noted the prices of his stock.
“I’m sorry sir, but I appear to have misplaced my little red price book.”
“Can’t you remember, or have a guess?”
The shopkeeper screwed his face as he tried to remember.
“I think it may have been a couple of hundred pounds, but I’m not sure.”
Finn pulled his wallet from his pocket.
What am I thinking, this is madness thought Finn. I can’t afford to spend money on a gold ring.
The shopkeeper noticed Finn had a credit card in his wallet.
“I’m afraid I can only take cash, I don’t have one of those card machines to take your money.”
“I don’t have any cash on me, other than the change in my pocket.”
Finn wished he’d never set foot in the shop.
Suddenly he became overcome with a sense of assertiveness.
I work hard for my money, and if I want this ring, I’m damn well going to buy it, he thought.
He glanced at the time and hadn’t realised how late it was. It was nearly nine o’clock.
“Would you trust me?” said Finn.
The shopkeeper looked up.
“I need to collect my daughter, she’s with my sister-in-law and she’s expecting me.”
He handed the shopkeeper his debit card.
“Will you take this for security, and after I’ve picked up my little girl and taken her home, I’ll get cash and come back and pay you. I’ll be back by midday at the latest.”
The shopkeeper shook his head.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be gone before then.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know what else to suggest, I can’t get it off.”
The shopkeeper stood in silence whilst he considered what to do.
His kind eyes smiled as he looked at Finn.
“I’ll tell you what…….. you can have it…….. you don’t have to pay me.”
Finn looked at the man curiously.
“But you told me that you wanted two hundred pounds.”
The shopkeeper shrugged his shoulders.
“Let me have your address, I’ll send you the money.” said Finn.
He shook his head.
“I’ve run this shop for over sixty years, and before me it was my father's and before him it was run by his father. That ring has been here as long as I can remember. I’m sure it was here when my grandfather was alive, and nobody has ever shown an interest in it. Until now that is.”
Finn frowned.
“You've not found the ring, the ring’s found you,” smiled the shopkeeper.
“But I just can’t take it.”
“Yes you can. I’m an old man and no one will inherit this shop or any of this stuff when I’m gone. I don’t need the money. Please take it, consider it a gift.”
Finn turned the ring in the sunlight.
“It truly is a beautiful thing.”
“Take it and do it before I change my mind.”
A grandfather clock chimed in the corner.
“You had better get going, it’s nine o’clock…….. your daughter will wonder where you are.”
Finn sighed.
“Thank you, you’re a kind and generous man. Tell me, what’s your name?”
“Go, get your daughter, you don’t need to know my name.”
The shopkeeper gently nudged Finn towards the door.
“Go now, or you’ll be late.”
Finn shook his head. The shopkeeper had won. He smiled and left the shop. The man smiled and waved him on his way through the window.
From his shop the old man stared as he disappeared from view, then instead of a smile, he wore a sinister expression.
Finn was late. He’d promised Sophie he wouldn’t leave her on her own for long while he picked Rosie up from Heather’s.
He hurried around the corner and into Whitcombe Fields Road holding his daughter’s hand.
Rosie was excited to meet her new brother, she couldn’t stop asking questions about him. She’d seen him two days ago in the maternity hospital and she couldn’t wait to see him again.
Finn stopped outside the house and searched for his keys. He took them from his pocket with his left hand and as he fumbled to find the key to the door he noticed that the gold ring had gone from his finger.
He put his hand back into his pocket and found it. It had slipped off. Finn was confused. He took the ring from his pocket and looked at it. He slipped it back onto his middle finger and saw how loose it was. It made no sense. A red mark remained just below his finger joint where it had been earlier.
“Daddy, I want to see Jack,” called Rosie.
Finn snapped back to reality. He slipped it back into his pocket and opened the door.
Rosie rushed passed.
“Where’s Jack, mummy I want to see Jack?”
“Shush Rosie, you’ll wake him.”
Sophie knelt to her daughter’s level.
“We need to be very quiet, he’s tired and has just got to sleep……. shall we see him?”
She nodded and followed her mother to the lounge.
Her face lit up when she saw him scrunched up and sleeping in his Moses basket.
“What do you think?” asked Sophie.
“I love him mummy. He’s tiny.”
Finn put his arms around his wife.
“I’m sorry I took so long, is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, but what took you so long? I expected you to be back an hour ago. Did Heather keep you talking?”
Finn shook his head.
“I just took longer than I thought.”
Sophie looked at him and sensed he wasn’t telling the truth.
“Are you okay?”
Finn nodded.
“Everything’s fine.”
He stood over Jack and watched as he slept.
“Don’t you dare wake him up,” said Sophie.
She looked tired.
“Go upstairs and lie down, I’ll take over,” said Finn as he kissed her on the forehead.
“No, I’m okay, I’d prefer to keep busy. I’ll collapse in a heap when I’m ready,” she replied with a smile.
Finn turned to her and looked serious.
“Do you recall an antique shop on the High Street, opposite the newsagent?”
She shook her head.
“Neither do I, but it was there this morning.”
He pulled the ring from his pocket and placed it in her hand.
“What’s this?”
“It came from the antique shop.”
Sophie examined it and looked at him with a churlish stare.
“Jesus, Finn, what were you thinking, how much did you pay for this? It’s gold.”
“I didn’t pay for it. At first the shopkeeper said he wanted a couple of hundred, but in the end he let me have it.”
After Finn had explained what had happened, Sophie blew out a long sigh and handed it back.
“Well, now you’ve removed it, you should return it.”
“He said I could keep it,” replied Finn as he snatched it back from her.
“Take it back to the shop. You never know he may have had a change of heart and want it back.”
Sophie saw a look in her husband’s eye which she didn’t like.
“Did he only want two hundred pounds for it? Because if you ask me, it’s worth a lot more.”
He glanced at his watch.
“He said he would be closed and gone by now, I don’t think it’s worth it.”
“Go now and hurry, he may still be there,” snapped Sophie.
He knew she was right, he should return it.
“Okay,” he sighed.
Finn jumped in the car and headed to the High Street.
He parked on the main road outside the newsagent and got out.
The antique shop across the road was boarded up and empty.
He looked at the dusty windows and the weathered door. Paint flaked on the window seals. The place looked old and tired. It was a mess, and looked different to how it had earlier that morning.
He went into the newsagent.
“Hi, can I ask you a quick question?”
The lady looked up and smiled.
“Do you know what time the antique shop closed this morning?”
“Antique shop?”
“Yes, the one opposite,” said Finn as he pointed across the road.
The lady walked to the door.
“Where?”
“Directly opposite, right there.”
The lady frowned.
“That’s not an antique shop. The last time it was open it was a sandwich shop.”
“Are you sure?”
The lady nodded.
Finn was going to explain what had happened earlier, but decided against it. He didn’t want to run the risk of sounding insane.
The Third Skull (Book one - The Discovery): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller Page 5
