The Old Bakehouse

by Daphne Neville

  “You bet. Kyle will most likely be there too as he likes to get in a bit of practice at the weekend.”

  Over the next few days Hetty, Lottie and Sandra spent their time sorting through Joe’s belongings. Bill meanwhile started work with the supermarket chain with whom he had been transferred and the twins began to attend their new school and work towards their A-Levels. Zac, after his visit with Emma to the Crown and Anchor secured a part-time job on the bar to bring in some money while he made up his mind what he wanted to do with his life.

  The ladies began their work upstairs in the bedrooms. The unwanted furniture they advertised for free in the post office and on Facebook and to their delight within a couple of days most of it was gone. Joe’s clothing they bagged up and took to the charity shop in the village and his personal things they boxed up for Norman. They then took up the old carpets and put them in the outhouse ready for Bill to take to the recycling centre at the weekend. After they had washed the walls and cleaned the windows the upstairs rooms were ready to be decorated and have radiators installed.

  “I think we’ll leave the sitting room for now,” said Sandra, “We can’t do much anyway until we’ve got the beds upstairs.”

  “Shall we do the kitchenette then?” Lottie asked, “After all you’re going to need somewhere to cook and it’ll be several weeks before the baking room has been transformed.”

  As they walked through to the kitchenette, Hetty opened the door of a cupboard under the stairs. “My goodness look at this lot. That’ll keep someone busy for a few hours.”

  Sandra stepped back to take a peep. Inside there were dozens of cardboard boxes, bulging sacks, an ironing board and a vacuum cleaner. “Yes, I think it best if we keep that door shut for now. Out of sight out of mind and all that.”

  The following Monday, Bill was at work and the twins at school. Inside the Old Bakehouse, Sandra was hanging wallpaper in Kate’s bedroom, Sid the plumber was disconnecting the old bathroom suite from the water supply and Basil and his young assistant Mark were working in the old baking room. Zac, eager to make himself useful, restacked boxes, bags and furniture stored in the living room in the space left following the removal of Joe’s bits of furniture, and in the kitchenette, Hetty and Lottie made tea and coffee for the workers. When it was ready, Lottie took mugs up to Sid and Sandra while Hetty took mugs to Basil and Mark. Zac fetched his own.

  “These ovens look like they’ve had very little use,” commented Basil, as he and Mark pulled the first one away from the wall.

  Hetty placed the coffee mugs on the draining board and then ran her fingers along the dusty surface of the ovens. “In which case it looks as though Eve must have run off soon after they were installed because that’s when Joe ceased baking. Such a shame. I bet they were beauties in their day.”

  “What are we going to do with them?” Mark asked.

  “I know someone who’s going to take them away. Whether or not he’ll be able to put them to good use I don’t know but I hope he can, otherwise they’ll be scrap.”

  “Such a shame but then we do live in a throwaway society now it seems,” Hetty pointed to the chimney breast, “So when will you be starting to expose the old oven, Basil? I must admit I’m curious to see what it’ll look like.”

  “Not today but hopefully tomorrow. The render seems to be a pretty hard mix so I reckon it’ll be a full day’s work. Besides we want to get these cupboards out first to give us a bit more room.”

  As they finished their tea, Sid called from the bathroom upstairs. “Can someone come up and help me bring the old bath tub down?”

  “I can, but I need to secure this strip of wallpaper first.” Sandra was in the next room.

  “No need, Mum,” Zac ran up the stairs two at a time, “I’ll give Sid a hand.”

  After the bath tub was outside in the back garden, Zac helped Sid carry down the old toilet, cistern and wash basin.

  “What now?” he asked when they returned to the empty room.

  “The radiator,” said Sid, “I need to get that on the wall over there where your mum’s painted it white and then get some pipe work done ready for when the chap comes to install the boiler at the end of the week. But before that though we’ll get the new loo in to save the ladies having to pop next door to the hairdressers.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Of course, it’ll save my back a bit. You’ll find the radiator for in here out on the landing.”

  That evening as the family sat by the fire at Primrose Cottage discussing the day’s activities, Zac seemed deep in thought.

  “Are you alright, son?” Bill asked, “It’s just you seem very quiet this evening.”

  “Probably tired,” said Lottie, “he’s been helping Sid today.”

  “A budding plumber, eh?”

  “Well, actually I have been thinking about it,” admitted Zac, “Sid says he enjoys his work and would hate to be stuck in an office or something like that and I’m much the same. It must be nice too to get out and about and meet people. I think I’d enjoy it. What do you think?”

  “You could do a lot worse,” reflected Bill, “and people will always need plumbers. Have you asked Sid about training and so forth?”

  Zac smiled. “Yes, and he said if I’m really serious he’d be happy to take me on as an apprentice. It’d mean college work as well but I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

  “Sounds ideal,” gushed Sandra, “I’ll have a word with Sid in the morning and then look into it a bit deeper.”

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning, Basil and Mark began to chip away at the chimney breast wall where they hoped to reveal the old oven. Sid was up in the bathroom fitting pipes helped by Zac, Sandra was wallpapering one of the bedrooms and Bill who had the day off work was in the outhouse sorting through boxes some of which looked as though they had not been touched for years.

  “Gosh, it’s a hive of activity this morning,” observed Lottie as she popped her head around the old baking room door after she and Hetty had arrived to help.

  As she spoke a huge chunk of plaster fell from the wall. “And it’s getting a bit dusty in here.” Mark flapped his hand and stepped away.

  “Nice bit a stonework underneath though,” Basil’s voice was muffled by the mask he wore, “should look smashing when it’s cleaned up and pointed.”

  Hetty looked over her sister’s shoulder. “Hmm, I think we’ll leave you to it and get the kettle on.”

  Waving dust away from their faces, Hetty and Lottie retreated to the kitchenette and closed the door.

  Having heard their voices, Sandra came downstairs to greet the sisters. “You must come and see what Bill found while rummaging in the outhouse earlier this morning.”

  Hetty put the kettle down on the draining board and with Lottie followed Sandra into the sitting room. Leaning against a table leg was an old weather-beaten board saying S. J. Williams & Sons, Bakers. Established in 1729.

  Hetty ran her hand across the wooden board. “Good heavens. Is it the original do you think?”

  “No idea but isn’t it lovely? I’ve cleaned it up a bit but it could do with another coat of paint and a bit of filler here and there.”

  “You can’t put it outside though, can you?” Lottie reasoned, “Because if you do you’ll have all and sundry walking into your dining room thinking it’s still a shop.”

  “That’s what Bill said, which is a shame and so we’ve decided instead to have it hanging somewhere indoors. Probably in here but not above the fireplace because the heat will dry it out too much.”

  “Has he found anything else of interest out there?” Lottie glanced towards the back gardens through the patio doors.

  “Not yet but there’s a large metal trunk at the back which he’s trying to reach but to get to it he has to move lots of boxes, a stack of wood, a door or two, old garden tools and stuff like that.”

  “And it’ll probably be empty when he does get to it,” laughed Hetty.

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nbsp; As she spoke there was a mighty crash as a huge piece of plaster fell from the chimney breast wall.

  “Come and have a look, ladies,” they heard Basil shout.

  Hetty, Lottie and Sandra dashed into the old baking room where through the dust they could see that part of the oven door was revealed.

  “How exciting, I do hope it’s still intact.” Sandra hopped from foot to foot.

  Basil chortled. “You’re not thinking of using it surely.”

  “No, no, but it’ll be a lovely feature and no other house in the village will have one. I can see it now and it’ll compliment the old beams beautifully.”

  After leaving Basil to continue chipping away at the old oven door, Hetty and Lottie made tea for everyone and took mugs to the rooms where they worked; they then joined Sandra in one of the bedrooms to help with the wallpapering. Mark meanwhile, took a mug of tea out to Bill in the outhouse.

  “There’s a great big crow on your roof and he was watching me with his beady eyes as I walked out here.” Mark placed the mug on a cluttered work bench.

  Bill chuckled. “Don’t tell Sandra or she’ll get all spooked again. The crow was on the chimney pot the other day, you see but she reckoned it was a raven.”

  “He’s not on the chimney pot now, he’s on this roof.” Mark pointed upwards.”

  As Bill’s eyes followed Mark’s hand they heard footsteps shuffling across the tin roof.

  “Perhaps he’s hungry,” said Bill, “which reminds me, aren’t the pasties here yet? I’m starving.”

  “Nope, your missus said they’d be here at one.”

  Bill looked at his watch and groaned. “One! That’s another hour yet. Okay, Mark, and thanks for the tea.”

  “You’re welcome. Anyway, I better get back and help Baz, not that there’s much I can do at the minute apart from clear up the mess he’s making.”

  “Has he managed to uncover the old oven door yet?”

  “Nearly. Should be done by lunchtime I reckon.”

  When the oven door was fully exposed Basil called the ladies back down again; as they entered the room, he attempted to open it.

  “Oh, that’s a pleasant surprise,” he remarked as the latch creaked open, “I really thought it’d be jammed after all this time.”

  Gently he opened the door only to find the inside of the oven was crudely bricked up. “Hmm, looks like I need to do a bit more chipping. Still, it shouldn’t take long.”

  Disappointed, the ladies returned upstairs to their wallpapering and Basil picked up his tools and began to chip away at the bricks; soon after there was a hole large enough to see a cardboard box on the other side. Basil called the ladies back downstairs and they were joined by Sid and Zac. The excitement amongst the onlookers grew and Bill, thinking the noise meant the pasties had arrived, joined everyone else. When all of the bricks were removed they all huddled around the oven door where the cardboard box tied up with string was clearly visible; alongside it were two wooden poles.

  “Well I never, I wonder what’s in here.” With care Basil lifted the box out and placed it on the dusty floor. While Sandra untied the string, Basil pulled out the poles.

  “They’re funny looking oars,” puzzled Mark.

  “They’re not oars, they’re baker’s paddles,” gasped Lottie, “Well, I never, they must be the ones Joe used.”

  “And look at the length of them,” squeaked Hetty, “shows how deep the oven must be.”

  Sandra looked up. “Now they are going to look fantastic when the wall’s fully exposed because I’ll be able to hang them on either side of the oven door or even along the beams.”

  When the knot in the string finally came undone, Sandra peeped inside the box. “Old books and newspapers. How fascinating.”

  “Like a time capsule,” Hetty knelt beside Sandra as she pulled out a 1958 copy of the Radio Times. Digging down further she found a Woman’s Own magazine from the same year.

  “Looks like the old oven was bricked up in 1958 then,” reasoned Lottie.

  “Hmm, it does, which is the same year that Eve left home with a young Norman,” Hetty wondered if that fact was of any significance.

  Lottie flicked through the yellowing pages of the Radio Times. “We’ll have to show Norman this lot. He’ll be fascinated.”

  “We’ll give it to him,” opined Sandra, “after all it must have been put here by Joe and probably after Eve scarpered with him.”

  Also in the box was an old Daily Mirror newspaper from February that year telling of the fatal Munich plane crash in which the Manchester United football team known as the Busby Babes were travelling. There was also a 1950s dress and white sandals which had seen better days, an empty perfume bottle, empty food packets, jars and bottles which had once contained tea, sugar, washing powder, soap, coffee, jam, cigarettes and mustard powder. Basil looked inside the oven, “Well, I never, there’s another box in here as well.” He pulled it out. It contained a large white linen apron with a rip down one side, a man’s shabby donkey jacket, a pair of men’s slippers with worn out soles and a flat cap.

  “Wonderful,” Hetty picked up one of the slippers, “it takes me back to my childhood. Dad had a pair like these.”

  Eager to see if there was anything else, Lottie peered inside the oven, “Looks like there’s some old bedding at the back. I’m sure that’s an eiderdown. You don’t see them nowadays.”

  Basil reached inside, pulled the eiderdown out and shook it. A jumble of old bones clattered onto the flagstone floor and a skull rolled across the room and stopped by Lottie’s feet.

  Chapter Eight

  The body in the oven proved to be a mystery for the police. Forensic examination established the remains were that of a white, dark-haired female who they estimated to be in her mid-thirties when she died in the late 1950s and because of the dated items in the cardboard boxes it was considered unlikely that she had died before February 1958 and although it was impossible to give the exact date, it was possible to say at what time she had died due to the broken face of a watch she had worn on her right wrist; it had stopped at one o’clock but whether that was am or pm was anyone’s guess. Furthermore, because of wedding and engagement rings on the skeletal finger of her left hand they knew that she was married and the remains of the clothing she had worn indicated she was relatively well off. With the estimated knowledge of the year and details gathered, the police checked records for the nineteen fifties to see if any married woman was reported missing in and around Pentrillick but they drew a blank. They then extended their search nationwide but again to no avail and even before Forensics began their examination the police ruled out it being the remains of Eve Williams because they had visited Norman at his Dawlish home where he had produced her death certificate. Furthermore he agreed to a DNA test to see if said woman was related to him and the result was negative.

  Inside the Old Bakehouse, work in the kitchen had been brought to a standstill while the police carried out various tests; Bill was also denied access to the outhouse and so the renovation work was confined to the upstairs rooms. Consequently, by the end of the week all the bedrooms were decorated and ready for new carpets which had been chosen and were due to be fitted the following week when the police had finished their investigation. Likewise, the bathroom was also finished and the new white suite gleamed in the ceiling’s spotlights. The radiators and pipework were in place ready for the engineer to install the new boiler.

  On Monday, the TV film crew who had earlier filmed regarding the contents of old Joe’s will, returned to the village to get the latest news and do a piece about the discovery of the body in the oven; Bill and Sandra were briefly interviewed. Off camera they were asked if they felt uncomfortable knowing a murder had been committed in their new home. Bill wisely replied that if the truth be known most houses built more than a century ago probably held dark secrets and every old home would have witnessed death at some stage. Besides, he added there was no evidence to say that the person buried in the o
ven had actually died in the Old Bakehouse as she could easily have been murdered elsewhere. Likewise there was no proof that it was Joe the baker who had taken her life.

  “That’s stretching the truth a bit,” Sandra chided her husband as the film crew packed up their equipment, “after all most people think the deceased will prove to be one of the women with whom Joe had a dalliance and that seems a pretty good motive to me.”

  “Pure speculation, and I don’t see how you can say he had a motive, after all his wife had cleared off and left him so he was foot loose and fancy free. As far as I can see there’s no motive for him to kill anyone, male or female. I mean as a single man, he’d have been perfectly entitled to have a fling with whomsoever he wanted.” Bill had found himself frequently defending Joe since the discovery of the body although he didn’t really know why.

  “Ah, but had Eve already left him when it happened? It looks to me very much as though she was still around judging by some of the things found in the oven. So I reckon she left just after it was bricked up. Poor woman probably even went because she knew what he’d done.”

  Bill looked smug. “In which case she’d be as guilty as Joe. Withholding information from the police is a criminal offence.”

  “And who can blame her for keeping quiet. I expect the poor woman was scared stiff.”

  “Rubbish. Anyway, why would Joe have murdered one of his lady friends in the first place? If she was one of his lady friends, that is. I mean at the moment we’ve no idea who she is or should I say was.”

  “Well at a guess I’d say the reason was because he wanted to end the affair with whoever she was. She didn’t and so threatened to tell Eve. Something like that.”

  “Again that’s pure speculation, Sandra. Besides, I reckon Eve had already gone.”

  “So you’ve said,” Sandra angrily folded her arms. “So if it wasn’t Joe who killed her, who was it, clever clogs?”