Silence.
Gazing up at him, I saw he was grinning at me and I met his inquisitive stare. ‘Now, Kitty Lewis, do you want to tell me the truth?’
‘Honestly, there’s nothing to tell.’ There wasn’t actually anything to tell. I hadn’t clapped eyes on Robin since he wrapped his arms around me in the field. I had spoken to him on the phone a couple of times but I told him I was a little unwell and I’d catch up with him soon.
‘Well, if that’s the way you want to play it, then so be it.’ He scrunched his face up teasingly at me and patted my knee. I felt myself blush. ‘Come on, you; I have a different kind of job for you to do today.’
‘Hang on a minute, I thought I was the boss!’ I joked. ‘Shouldn’t I be the one giving out the orders?’
‘You delegated that job to me! No doubt you’ll be giving out orders very soon, but in the meantime …’ He laughed.
Following him into the office, I stared around the room. It most definitely looked like a bomb had exploded. Every drawer in the filing cabinet was ajar and there were piles and piles of papers stacked up, covering the desk. I had no idea what any of them were for.
‘What’s going on in here?’
‘It’s that time of year when not only the coops receive an extra spring clean but the paperwork needs a thorough sort out too.’
‘There’s a lot of paperwork to sort out,’ I commented.
‘It’s not too bad. Those piles over there are for shredding – the shredder is just behind the desk on the floor. Those invoices are over five years old so we can destroy those and then move the remaining ones in the filing cabinet up a year and so on. To be honest, anything you think we don’t need anymore just destroy it. Let’s reshuffle this filing system so each and every one of us will know exactly where everything is.’
‘Yes, I can do that. I’ll make a start now,’ I offered, removing my jacket and throwing it over the back of the chair. Obviously I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, but sitting in the office for most of the day suited me down to the ground.
‘Once you’ve worked your way through this little lot, there’s also that cupboard over there that’s bursting with paperwork. Could you possibly see what you could do with that lot as well?’
‘Not a problem. What’s in that safe there?’ I asked, pointing to another cupboard-like feature with a combination keypad on the front.
Tom looked up to where I was pointing. ‘I’ve no idea what’s in there; that was Agnes’s cupboard. I don’t even know what the combination is for the lock,’ he said, shrugging.
‘OK, I’ll work my way through these papers first.’ Walking over to the radio, I switched it on and sank down into the office chair.
Suddenly the office door opened and in walked Jeannie. ‘Good morning, you pair. I was wondering where you were,’ she said and smiled.
This morning Jeannie looked radiant. Her skin was clear and her cheeks a little flushed. Standing at the door, she cupped one of her hands underneath her stomach. It was an instinctive reaction, but there was nothing to see as yet. Her overalls were still baggy, but no doubt that would soon change as the months rolled on.
‘Good morning, Jeannie,’ Tom replied. I watched with curiosity; there was nothing, nothing at all – not even a hint that they were in a relationship, never mind having a baby together. If I hadn’t known, there was no way I would’ve guessed. I was impressed that they weren’t letting their private life impinge on their professional life, so to speak.
‘Perfect timing, Jeannie. Please will you pass me those bin bags and switch that kettle on? I may as well have a cuppa whilst I sort through this paperwork,’ I said.
Jeannie scrunched her face up at me. ‘Cheeky, what did your last slave die of?’ she joked.
‘Huh?’ I pretended to be insulted.
‘I’ll leave you girls to it. I’m heading down to the barn to pack the eggs for the deliveries. I’ll see you later.’ And with that Tom was gone and the door closed behind him.
Perching on the desk, Jeannie swung her legs back and forth waiting for the kettle to boil. I was tempted to ask how Tom had taken the news of the baby but something held me back. I didn’t want to pry. Jeannie would tell me in her own good time, and unless Tom mentioned the baby I wouldn’t say a word. They didn’t need me interfering. I was sure Tom would be shocked but delighted, and maybe the pair of them had decided to keep their news quiet until after their first scan. Wasn’t that what most couples did?
‘How are you feeling, Jeannie?’
‘Absolutely great this morning. I’ve nibbled on a couple of ginger biscuits, which seemed to curb my sickness a little.’
‘Any mad cravings? Pickled onions, roast beef monster munch or eating ice?’
Jeannie looked up at me like I had gone mad. ‘Eating ice?’
‘Yes, eating ice! Honestly, I saw it on a TV programme once. There was a pregnant woman who would just order a glass of ice at the bar. Then she would sit there and quite happily chew her way through it!’
‘Ewww … no ice chewing for me, but I am a little partial to chocolate though. Chocolate for breakfast seems to be the norm at the moment.’
‘By any pregnant woman’s reckoning that’s probably the most wonderful craving to have.’
After a quick drink, Jeannie disappeared out of the office door to carry on with her chores. Glancing around the room, I didn’t know which mound of paperwork to start on first. Grabbing the pile nearest to me, I thought I might as well start with the desk because once that was clear it would be easier to work from the uncluttered space.
Sitting on the floor, I fed each sheet through the chrome teeth of the shredder. To tell the truth, I hadn’t really got a clue how important any of it was. But I was sure we didn’t need to know that Willard Jones ordered ten dozen boxes of eggs to sell in his butcher’s shop over half a decade ago. It was a very therapeutic job though, and it certainly wasn’t taxing. The piles were soon diminishing.
Nearly two hours and several bin bags of shredded paper later, I was near the end. Sipping on a glass of water, I scanned the room – only two smaller piles left to shred, then I’d have a look to see what was inside the cupboard. Dragging the bursting bin bags across the office floor and out the door, I piled them up outside. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tom striding up the path towards Brambleberry Cottage. He always returned home for his lunch. Since beginning work at the Lodge I could never remember Tom spending his lunchtime with Jeannie and me. He paused outside the door – he must have sensed me watching him. Turning around, he waved his hand above his head in my direction then disappeared through the front door.
Going back inside the office, I stared at the cupboard. I’d skipped breakfast this morning and now my stomach was beginning to gurgle and hunger pains were slowly creeping in. I decided to break for lunch before I started to clear out the final cupboard.
Jeannie popped her head around the door. ‘Are you ready to eat?’
‘You read my mind! Yes, come on, let’s eat before I start on the rest of this clearance.’
‘How’s it going in here? Are you able to sort it into some sort of order?’
‘It’s not been too difficult. If in doubt I feed it through the shredder!’ I laughed.
‘That sounds like the best way.’
‘I’ve got that one left,’ I nodded in the direction of the cupboard, ‘and then I’ll reorganise the filing system.’
‘What’s in there?’ Jeannie pointed over to the safe.
‘Tom said that belonged to my grandmother. He doesn’t know the code to open it, so I’m not entirely sure.’
Grabbing the carrier bag containing my lunch from the top of the filing cabinet, I followed Jeannie outside and we sank down onto the bench. She stretched her legs straight out in front of her then sighed. For a split second I had forgotten she was pregnant.
‘I’m feeling really tired. My mind is active but my body just won’t move. If I’m like this now what’s it going to be like
after six months? I’m dreading it when I become huge.’
‘They always say you bloom in your last trimester.’
‘Well I’m hoping so, because I feel blooming awful right now.’ She laughed, sinking her teeth into a cheese sandwich and then went pale and placed the sandwich back inside the tinfoil wrapping.
‘I can’t eat that,’ she said. ‘I don’t fancy it at all.’
Glancing at Jeannie, I saw she did look a little peaky. ‘What do you fancy then?’
‘I feel like chips and gravy with lashings of vinegar!’
‘Ha ha, this could be your first craving. Right, I’m on it – your wish is my command! You put your feet up, I’ll take the bike and I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
Tossing my purse into the basket of my bike, I put one foot on the pedal and pushed off. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind and I placed both feet back on the ground. ‘I’d best check if Tom would like some chips.’
Leaning the bike against the stone wall, I strolled towards the front door and knocked on the door to Brambleberry Cottage. I stood on the herringbone doormat and waited. I heard a scraping of a chair across the floor and talking. I strained to listen; I recognised Tom’s voice. A couple of seconds later it was silent and then I heard the sound of his footsteps approaching the door. The door opened slightly and Tom peered around the edge of the door.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yes of course. We’re treating ourselves to some chips for lunch, would you like some?’
‘No thanks, I’m fine.’
I’m not sure whether it was my imagination but Tom looked shifty and seemed to be in a hurry to close the door.
‘Are you OK? Did I interrupt you?’ I knew I was prying but I was convinced I’d heard Tom’s voice. He had definitely been talking to someone.
‘Yes, of course I’m OK. Ted’s popped in the back door; we’re just catching up on some farm stuff while I’m eating my lunch. I’ll see you in an hour.’
‘Working lunch, no rest for the wicked.’ I smiled and turned around towards my bike.
I quickly glanced back over my shoulder to see a shadow shift behind the closed curtains – Tom must have been watching me walk back up the path.
Cycling down the path and towards the chip shop, something was beginning to bug me and it wasn’t just Tom’s odd behaviour. Instantly my thoughts turned to the safe, the unopened safe of Grandma Agnes. I was feeling a little anxious and couldn’t quite put my finger on why. The harder I cycled, the more my mind whirled. Placing two bags of steaming hot chips in the basket, I furiously pedalled back towards the Lodge. I was now completely breathless.
Jeannie hadn’t moved a muscle except for the fact she’d slid down the bench and her eyes were closed, her face tilted towards the afternoon sun.
‘Here you go: chips and gravy with lashings of vinegar.’
Looking up, she smiled. ‘Mmmm, they smell divine, just what I needed.’ Before I’d even propped the bike up against the wall of the office, she was stabbing her fork into a chip and swirling it around in the gravy at the bottom of the white polystyrene tray. Jeannie began chatting whilst we sat there eating, but my mind was wandering. I wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Curiosity was beginning to eat me up; I only had one thing on my mind. I wanted to know what was inside that safe.
How was I going to work out the code? There could be hundreds, maybe thousands of different combinations. In addition, I was also feeling pretty bad about the prospect of going through the safe, but to be honest, Grandma Agnes was dead now and the safe would have to be sorted at some point. As I was now the boss and, as far as I knew, her only surviving relative, wasn’t I the best person to do it?
‘Are you listening to a word I’m saying?’ Jeannie was watching me with an amused look on her face.
‘Oh no, I’m sorry, Jeannie. I was daydreaming.’
Patting my knee, she stood up and laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it, I was only babbling on about absolutely nothing! Thank you for the chips. I’d best wander back down to the bottom field.’ I watched her slim figure walk down the yard. I couldn’t imagine her with a baby bump, but no doubt it wouldn’t be long before it started to show through her baggy overalls.
Strolling back into the office, I threw the chip wrappers into the bin and turned my attention to the locked safe.
Scooping my hair up in my hands, I tied it back with the bobble that was wrapped around my wrist. Bending down, I looked closely at the lock. There was a keypad and four spaces followed by a green enter button. Next to the enter button was a red LED light. I chewed on my lip and stared. I was tempted to try and crack the code. I wasn’t sure why I was even so intrigued. The safe could easily be empty. But curiosity got the better of me and I leant forward. Pressing the numbers one, two, three, four, the light still stayed red. It appeared Grandma Agnes was a little more adventurous with her choice of combination numbers.
Randomly, I began to press numbers: zero, three, seven, six.
Nothing.
I tried again: nine, eight, seven, six.
Still nothing.
After a few more attempts I got up and slumped into the office chair.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Did I really think that I’d work out the code so easily and the safe would suddenly ping open and reveal all of Agnes’s secrets?
Now I was chewing on the inside of my cheek, a habit I’d acquired as a little girl; I always did this when I was deep in thought.
Pausing, I swung the chair around and stared at the lock again.
I went over to examine the keypad thoroughly.
Hovering nervously over the door I scrutinised it closely. I’d seen detectives do this in the movies. The numbers zero, one, five and seven were more worn than the other numbers on the keypad. My heart was thumping, my hands were sweating and my skin began to prickle. Taking a deep breath, I punched in the numbers in that exact order.
The light remained red.
Sighing, I crossed my legs and sat directly in front of the safe. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I cupped my hands around my face. The last time I could remember sitting like this was in primary school.
I typed in the numbers backwards.
The light still remained red.
Closing my eyes I thought hard.
Come on, Kitty, you must know.
It hit me like a bolt out of the blue.
Rubbing my sweaty hands together I pressed the numbers one, five, zero, seven. I was praying the numbers were the same as the combination code for the gate at the end of the driveway, the numbers of my birthday, 15 July.
Please open, I urged silently.
There was a little pause then a click.
Staring at the lock, the red light changed to green.
There were two things I was absolutely sure about before I rifled through the safe: that the numbers were no coincidence and that there were a lot of questions that needed answering. I was beginning to think more and more about Agnes and why my parents had pretended she was dead.
Chapter Twenty-One
Curled up on my bed, I yanked the duvet up to my chin. Clasped in my hand was a fabric-bound journal held together by an elastic band. This afternoon when I had peered inside the safe my heart had lurched; it appeared to be empty. Frantically I thrust my hand inside, feeling every nook and cranny. Lying right at the back, I felt an object, and, pulling it out, I found it was some kind of journal. I had hidden it from prying eyes and closed the safe again, making a huge effort not to read it at work. Now that I was back in the flat, on my own, in peace and quiet, it was time.
I made myself comfy. Alfie jumped onto the bed next to me. He arched his back and I stroked his soft fur. He paddled the covers gently, his claws lifting the fabric of the duvet before he settled down and curled up in a ball.
Staring at the journal, I knew I was about to invade someone’s privacy. My head was telling me it was wrong to trespass into someone else’s life, but my heart was telling me
to open the book.
What was I going to do? The fact was this book was in my grandma’s safe and it might help me to uncover more about my family. If I returned the book back to the safe unread, it would always be on my mind.
Taking a deep breath, I removed the elastic band. Opening the front cover I was met with the words ‘Violet Porter’ in bold capital letters.
I had no idea who Violet Porter was. I didn’t recognise the first name at all, only the surname, which was the same as my mother’s maiden name.
I was curious about this book. Why was it the only thing in the safe? My heart was racing; the pulse in the side of my head was throbbing. My hands began to sweat as I turned the first page.
‘Violet Porter, aged sixteen, 1960.’
Whoever Violet Porter was, her handwriting was small, neat and joined up, and as I flicked through the book there appeared to be an entry for most days of the year.
I settled down and returned to the first page. It was dated 21 October.
* * *
21 October 1960
* * *
Mum and Dad have been rowing downstairs. It was something to do with Christmas but I couldn’t quite hear. They must have known I was trying to listen because I heard Dad tell Mum to shut the door. The house is not the same now Alice has left.
I know she’s older than me at 27, but she’s always kind to me, looks after me and sticks up for me when I’m in trouble with my parents. Mum and Dad seem to have less patience with me; they don’t seem to like my quirky ways or my friends. Mum always niggles at me. Alice just tells me it’s because they aren’t as young as they used to be. It feels different, kind of empty, now Alice has left. Mum wept for hours after she finally moved out and started her new married life with Julian. I did too. I feel kind of abandoned, but Alice has promised I can go and stay with them anytime I want, because they have a spare room. Though when Alice suggested I could stay, Mum was very adamant that one day they would need that room for a nursery and they shouldn’t make me promises. They haven’t moved that far way, maybe about an hour or so, but Alice has moved nearer to Julian’s family now. I think Mum and Dad were arguing over Christmas dinner, which is a little ridiculous as we’re only near the end of October. Maybe Alice wanted to spend it with Julian’s family. It will be strange if that happens; it will be the first year without my sister at home.
Kitty's Countryside Dream Page 13
