The Golden Anklet

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The Golden Anklet Page 28

by Beverly Hansford


  Jane’s reply was equally casual. ‘Perhaps something to do with his wealth,’ she remarked dryly.

  Annette steered the conversation back to business. Quite out of the blue she asked, ‘How’s the Rompton feature coming along?’

  She was referring to an article about the author J.C. Rompton, which Jane and Amy were preparing and was similar to the Angus Pike feature. It was due to appear in the next but one issue. As Annette knew the author personally, she had been keeping her eye on what Jane and Amy were going to produce and had been checking on their progress at regular intervals.

  Jane had an answer ready. She was glad the conversation had turned away from Miles Ashington. ‘Very well. We’ve got the photographs now, and the text is all ready. No changes since you last saw it.’

  Annette seemed satisfied with the update. She went straight on to her current favourite topic: the forthcoming book review pages.

  Jane took up the challenge and explained how things were going. It was a good half-hour before she was able to take her leave.

  As she passed Amy’s desk, Amy looked at her enquiringly as usual, concerned that Jane’s meeting with Queen Bee might involve her in some way.

  Jane grinned, remarked that Annette had wanted an update on work in progress, and left it at that. She had no intention of discussing her family history with any other member of the staff. Amy was satisfied. With a shrug of her shoulders she returned to her work.

  *

  At the end of the week Jane received an unexpected telephone call. She was working away quietly in her office one morning, when the shrill noise of her telephone disturbed her. She made a grab for it, at the same time continuing her work.

  ‘Jane Carroll.’

  A man’s voice was at the other end. ‘Jane, good morning! Miles Ashington here.’

  It took a full two seconds for Jane to overcome her surprise, but she regained her composure quickly. ‘Hello, Mr Ashington. Good morning.’

  She waited. What could Miles Ashington want with her? Perhaps he had been serious about inviting her and Bob to dinner. She had thought at the time that he was simply being courteous.

  He quickly explained. ‘Jane, I’ve been thinking about you. I was at my house in the West Country over the weekend and I came across some old photographs I think you might be interested in. For example, there is one of your mother.’

  Jane’s heart gave a leap. Of course she was interested! Her reply echoed her excitement. ‘I would love to see them.’

  ‘I will have some copies made and let you have them.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ replied Jane. ‘Thank you.’

  There was a slight pause, and then Miles Ashington spoke again. ‘Jane… I was wondering whether you and your fiancé would like to join Gail and me for dinner one evening soon. I could have the photographs ready for you.’

  ‘I’d really like that,’ said Jane. ‘When were you thinking of?’

  There was another silence. Jane could tell that Miles Ashington was consulting his diary.

  ‘Let’s see… This Saturday evening is out… What about Saturday week? Would that suit you?’ he asked.

  ‘I think that will be OK, but I’ll have to check with Bob, just in case he has something else on,’ replied Jane.

  ‘Yes, of course. Let’s make that a date. Shall we say 7pm at my house? You have my telephone number. Give me a ring if it isn’t convenient, or if you can’t get hold of me, leave a message with my secretary.’

  ‘That will be lovely.’ The idea was beginning to appeal to Jane.

  ‘Excellent. We will look forward to seeing you both.’

  He was preparing to ring off, but Jane suddenly thought of something. ‘That will be the house where I met you last week?’ she asked hurriedly. She had a horror of going to the wrong place, after Annette’s disclosure earlier that week.

  She was quickly reassured.

  ‘It will be indeed. Goodbye for now.’

  ‘Goodbye… and thank you.’

  Jane just had time to get the words out before the line went dead.

  She was quite excited about the phone call. She had been reasonably impressed when she met Miles Ashington, but she hadn’t really expected him to phone her. Now it seemed that he really wanted to help her. She just hoped Bob would want to come with her.

  *

  She need not have worried. That evening when she called Bob on her mobile and told him about Miles Ashington’s invitation, he said straight away, ‘I’d like to meet him.’

  During their conversation Bob mentioned something Jane had had on her mind ever since Miles Ashington’s phone call. ‘I imagine it will be a collar and tie affair,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve been wondering about that too,’ replied Jane. She went on, almost speaking her thoughts, ‘I should think it would be.’ She thought of something else. ‘I suppose I could ask Annette. She goes to his dinner parties.’ Even as she said it she was not keen on the idea. She really had no desire to discuss Miles Ashington further with her boss.

  ‘We’ll play it safe,’ Bob chipped in. ‘I’ll dig out my best suit and tie and get Mrs McGinty to wash my shirt.’ He laughed.

  Jane knew he was joking about Mrs McGinty washing his shirt. Bob was always well turned out, even when he was dressed casually. His suggestion had given her an idea.

  ‘I’ve got a cocktail dress I can wear. You’ve never seen it, but it’s quite pretty.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you dressed up, then,’ said Bob.

  Jane knew he was joking, but she took the bait and pretended to be shocked. ‘Darling, how can you say such a thing? You know I’m always dressed up for you. I’ve a good mind to wear something awful you won’t like.’

  Bob was quick to reply. ‘Poppet, you will look beautiful in anything.’

  ‘Hmm. Just you wait and see. You don’t know me yet,’ Jane replied breezily.

  ‘Nothing you do will shock me,’ Bob chipped in quickly.

  With that their conversation returned to more mundane matters. Bob wanted to know where they were going for dinner with the Ashingtons, and at what time. Jane wanted to know how the photographs had turned out, and Bob told her she would have to wait and see. In the end they chatted for over half an hour.

  *

  When she returned home the following evening Jane had another surprise. In her post was a slim package. The address was written in neat handwriting that she did not recognise. Before she did anything else she tore open the package to reveal a paperback book. She glanced at the title: A Short History of the Ashington Family and Ashington House. There was a note tucked inside it. Jane quickly read it, puzzled as to who had sent the book:

  Hi Jane,

  I saw this lying on a stall at our local boot sale. I thought of you and immediately snapped it up for the grand sum of 50p. I hope you enjoy reading about the history of ‘your’ family.

  Talk to you soon.

  Love,

  Lucy

  Jane smiled to herself. Good old Lucy, she thought. Just like her to do this sort of thing.

  She had already made up her mind that she would spend the rest of the evening reading more about the family that everything now appeared to point to her being part of.

  Chapter 31

  Jane was pleased with her day so far. Saturday had loomed bright and sunny and she had walked to her early-morning hairdresser’s appointment. Then it had been a quick dive into the supermarket to top up on one or two things. Walking back to her apartment she had encountered Margot and her faithful Sam out for their walk. They had chatted for a few minutes until Sam decided that he wanted to continue his exercise.

  Back home, Jane had quickly changed and flung herself into cleaning the apartment and doing some washing. It was close to one in the afternoon by the time she finished. She made herself a bite to eat, and topped everything with a cup of coffee, which she took into the lounge. She was just relaxing on the settee when her mobile rang. She knew it must be Bob; he was working,
but he would be coming over towards evening.

  She pressed the answer button. ‘Hello.’

  Bob’s voice came through. ‘Hi. It’s me.’

  ‘Hello, darling. Are you still slogging away at work?’

  ‘We’re nearly finished. I’ll be able to join you earlier than I thought.’

  ‘Super! About what time?’

  ‘Three-ish.’

  ‘Marvellous. We can have a cup of tea when you get here.’

  She was about to say something else, but Bob beat her to it. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  ‘Ooh, what is it? I can’t wait.’

  She heard a chuckle at the other end.

  ‘Not going to tell you.’

  Jane almost wailed, ‘Oh, no! Now I’ll be all eaten up with excitement.’

  Bob was enjoying himself. ‘Good. I’ll let you into the secret later.’

  ‘Oh, you’re horrid to me,’ Jane complained, laughing. Then she suddenly thought of something else to add to the conversation. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for you, too – and I’m not going to tell you, either.’

  There was a faked sigh at the other end of the telephone. ‘OK. I’ll wait, but I’ll want to know what your surprise is first.’

  ‘You will,’ replied Jane breezily.

  ‘I’d better finish up now. I’ll see you soon.’ Bob was serious again.

  ‘Bye, darling,’ Jane replied, with a secret smile to herself.

  ‘Bye, poppet.’

  ‘See you—’

  But he was gone.

  Jane put down her mobile and relaxed back onto the settee. She sipped her coffee. She was pleased that Bob was coming early and extremely glad that she had got through all her jobs. She wondered what his surprise was, but she could guess: she hadn’t seen the photographs he had taken of her yet. As for her own surprise for him, she had been planning it all week, driven by a chance remark he had made during a recent telephone conversation, with just that little bit of wickedness added to her intention. Putting the final touches to her plan was the next item on her agenda. On her way home the previous day, she had popped into Mario’s and reserved a table for the evening. At first Mario had protested that the restaurant was fully booked, but after gentle coaxing from Jane he had found room for them, provided they arrived early. In the end she had secured a table for seven o’clock and felt well pleased with her efforts to generate an extra surprise for Bob.

  Draining the last of her coffee, she dived into her bedroom. She knew it was there somewhere: the dress she had scheduled ages ago as part of a clear-out she had never got round to. She found it in a bag at the back of her second wardrobe. She pulled it out and held it up, scrutinising it. It was a long-sleeved, drab brown affair, knee length and buttoned up to the neck. She had acquired it during her marriage and had worn it only once. Graham had joked and threatened to divorce her if she ever wore it again. It had been hidden away, regarded as a bad buy on her part. Today she had a use for it.

  She spent a while having a relaxing bath and then, worried that the time was slipping by, she started to panic. It was essential to her plan that she be completely ready when Bob arrived. Hurriedly finishing off, she went back into the bedroom.

  It did not take her long to put on underwear and slip into the dress. A glance in the mirror confirmed to her how awful it actually was. Next came the cheap tights she had purchased from a market stall a few days earlier: dark brown, with an ugly pattern. When it came to footwear she was stuck for a few minutes. Then she remembered that the only thing she had in her wardrobe that would serve her escapade was the pair of lace-up ankle boots she kept tucked away for walking in the snow. It seemed to take ages to put them on and do up the laces, and all the time she was worried that Bob might suddenly arrive early. She quickly found the never-used dark lipstick she had acquired as a sample somewhere, and applied a generous coating to her lips. Next, dark eyeshadow added to the effect. To complete the makeover, she found a long, hideous string of beads, which she dangled round her neck. A final glance in the mirror made her realise that she found it hard to even recognise her own image. She grinned to herself. She was ready.

  It was fast approaching three o’clock when the doorbell rang. It couldn’t be Bob, unless somebody had let him into the block. She hurried to the door and looked through the spyhole. Gerald stood on the other side. She flung open the door.

  ‘Hello, Gerald.’

  ‘Hello, Jane. I just—’ Gerald stopped abruptly as his eyes regarded her.

  Jane realised she must have blushed visibly. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Gerald. I was waiting for Bob, and… I was dressing up for something.’

  The words just came out. She had momentarily forgotten how she was dressed in her haste to answer the door. Fortunately Gerald seemed to accept her explanation.

  ‘Please come in,’ she urged.

  Gerald stepped into the hall. ‘I don’t want to hinder you, but I wanted to tell you that Eric contacted me yesterday evening.’

  ‘That sounds interesting. Come into the lounge.’

  Gerald shook his head. ‘I just wanted to tell you that he is continuing the Ashington family research. He’s been very busy on another project recently, but that is now finished and he is taking up the Ashington business again.’

  ‘Oh, that’s really sweet of him.’ Suddenly Jane remembered something that had been worrying her. She voiced her concern. ‘But if he does it all professionally, surely I have to agree a fee with him for his services?’ She looked at Gerald for an answer.

  Gerald shook his head again and raised his hand in protest. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Gerald is an old friend. We shared much together and he is doing it as a favour for me – and you, of course.’

  Jane was slightly embarrassed. So far, she felt, she had contributed very little to her family history. ‘It really is very nice of him, but it does seem a little unfair,’ she said.

  Gerald smiled at her. ‘Eric was very impressed with you when he met you. He wants to help you and he also likes the challenge of a mystery to unravel.’

  ‘What did he do for a living before he started doing genealogy?’

  ‘He was a solicitor,’ Gerald replied, with another little smile.

  Jane suddenly thought of something she wanted to show Gerald. ‘Just a second,’ she said.

  She dashed into the lounge and returned with the book about the Ashington family. She handed it to him. ‘My friend Lucy picked this up at a boot sale and sent it to me,’ she explained.

  Gerald read out the title. ‘This looks very interesting,’ he remarked. He studied the contents of the book, turning the pages slowly. ‘I wonder if Eric knows about this. I must tell him.’

  Jane interrupted his musing. ‘I just want to show it to Bob, and then you can borrow it,’ she suggested.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Gerald, readjusting his spectacles and handing the book back to her. ‘Thank you,’ he added. ‘I would really like to have some time with it.’

  They chatted for a few more minutes and then Gerald looked at his watch and said he did not want to take up any more of Jane’s time. With a promise from her that she would drop the book in over the weekend, he departed.

  Closing the front door, Jane stole another glance in the hall mirror. What must Gerald have thought about her appearance? No doubt he would tell Anna, and Jane would have some more explaining to do, but that was for later. She was rather glad that Bob had not arrived while she was talking to him.

  Almost twenty minutes later the outer door buzzer rang loud and clear.

  Jane pressed the button to speak. ‘Hello.’

  ‘It’s me,’ answered Bob’s voice.

  ‘Come in, me,’ she responded cheerfully. She could not help adding, ‘I’m all ready for you.’

  She stood in the hall, one hand on the door latch. Her heart was thumping. She waited until the doorbell rang, and then she threw open the door.

  ‘Darling, it’s marvellous to see you.’

 
She threw her arms round Bob and nuzzled him for a kiss.

  When she broke free from the embrace, she realised that he was looking at her with a mixture of surprise and shock. He closed the door silently and then turned to her without a word as he took in her appearance.

  Jane stepped back, beaming at him. She glanced down at her attire, her hands holding her skirt wide.

  ‘What do you think of my new image?’ she asked.

  Bob was lost for words. ‘Well… I…’

  Jane was pleased with her escapade. ‘You said you wanted to see me dressed up, so this is what I thought.’

  Bob was looking glum. ‘I’m not sure if I like it,’ he replied, scrutinising her outfit.

  ‘Oh, I expect it’s just a matter of getting used to it. I’m sure you’ll like it in the end,’ responded Jane, smiling at him as she turned to walk into the lounge.

  Bob followed her in silence. He sat down on the settee. He looked both shocked and gloomy.

  Jane sat down opposite him. She was enjoying her prank.

  ‘I thought I might wear this when we go for dinner with Miles Ashington and his wife,’ she announced casually, still concealing her humour.

  Bob still had an air of disbelief about him. ‘Why have you got to change your image?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, darling, you said I’d look nice in anything.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I had in mind the sort of thing you’re wearing now,’ he replied, still staring at her.

  ‘I thought I might change my hairstyle as well – perhaps have it dyed,’ Jane remarked, continuing the ruse.

  Bob looked at her but said nothing.

  Maybe I’ll buy some different shoes as well – more like these.’ She glanced down at her footwear as she spoke.

  ‘Why not wellington boots?’ remarked Bob in a decidedly sarcastic tone.

  Jane took up the challenge. ‘Darling, you don’t seem to like my new image at all.’ She gave him a bemused look.

  ‘I preferred you as you were,’ he replied quietly.

  Jane looked at him. She could see that she had continued her joke long enough. Bob was looking sad and bewildered. The last thing she had wanted was to upset him. Prompted by his remark the previous week, she had planned everything meticulously, but now she realised the folly of her prank. She had initiated something that had gone horribly wrong.

 

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