‘Then I’ll stay until you put the car right.’
She smiled up at him, and he was quick to notice again that there was no brightness in her eyes, the smile just touched her lips.
‘It’s up to you.’
‘Yes, it’s up to me.’
Like the look in her eyes, there was an odd quality about her reply, and he stood awkwardly confronting her. She was the most unusual customer he had come across for a long time. In fact he couldn’t remember having met anyone quite like her. And her voice…He found he wanted to listen to her speaking. ‘You American?’ he asked with a grin.
‘No.’
When she did not enlarge on this, he said lamely, ‘Oh.’
‘Psst! Peter! Peter, man!’
He turned sharply to the window, and there, just above the low sill, were the faces of his brothers, and high above theirs the wide, flat, gaping countenance of Tony Boyle.
‘Here!’ They gesticulated wildly to him.
He frowned at them and said sharply, ‘Get away now. I’ll be out in a minute.’
The girl had turned in her chair, and from the three faces she looked back enquiringly to him. And he grinned again and said with something of embarrassment, ‘Me brothers.’ Then added hastily, ‘Not the top one, he’s Tony. He’s—he’s just a trifle odd.’ Trifle, he thought, was putting it mildly, but people were scared of the word mental.
‘We’ve got sumthin’ to tell yer, Peter…aw! Peter man.’
The two small heads were thrust well into the room now and Peter, looking distinctly uncomfortable, commanded ‘Get away! Get yourselves off. Now! This minute!’
They stared at him in some surprise; then instead of doing as he had ordered they transferred their cheeky glances from him to the girl.
Hastily now he made for the door, from where he turned and asked, ‘Will I bring your cases?’
‘It would be very kind of you.’ Her lips were smiling again. The situation with the bairns seemed to have amused her.
Without further ado he went along the passage and out of the side door, for he did not want to encounter Mrs Booth. Somehow he didn’t quite know what attitude Mrs Booth would take on knowing the girl was to be a guest, but one thing was certain, Mrs Booth would be glad to have someone in, for trade at the Hart most of the week was almost on a par with that of the garage.
As he came out into the sunshine the twins came pelting round the corner with Tony behind them, and he greeted them with a sharp ‘Now, look! Quiet a minute! And you listen to me.’ He held out his finger and stabbed it at them. ‘When I’m talking to anybody you keep your tongues still and keep away, or I’ll pay your backsides for you, the pair of you. And you too, Tony.’ He looked at the creature who was almost as tall as himself.
‘Me, Petter? Me, I found—’
‘You shut yer mouth! I’m goner tell him. It’s a fish, Peter, like an eel, only bigger. It’s in the little lake,’ said Johnny in an excited whisper. ‘Come and see.’
‘A fish?’ The sternness slid from Peter’s face.
‘Aye. A great, long big ’un, a whopper.’
With a smile now forcing its way from the depths of his eyes, Peter looked down on the twins and said, ‘A whopper, eh? How big? Like that?’ With his large hand he measured about six inches, and the twins cried in chorus, ‘No man, no!’
‘It’s as big as Tony, it is. It’s as long as him!’ Johnny nodded towards their gangling playmate, and Jimmy added, ‘Aye, it is. It’s as big as Tony, honest!’
‘Big, like me, Petter. Big!’
The smile was hidden behind Peter’s narrowed lids now as he said, ‘You’re having me on. You know there’s no eels in the lake, nor fish bigger than me hand.’
‘I’m tellin’ you, Peter man. Come and see, man, for yersel. It’s lying below the bank in the clearing.’ Jimmy took on a dignity that doubled his seven years.
Peter, more puzzled now, surveyed them in silence. He knew what type of fish there were in the little lake, but he also knew that there must be something unusual there for the twins were no fools where fish were concerned. They had been bitten with the bug from the time they could toddle. All the Puddleton men were crazy about fish. And so the lure of this enormous one was too much for Peter. For the moment he forgot about his client, her car and her cases, and in a whisper he said, ‘Well, look, we’ll have to be slippy, ’cos I’m busy. You, Jimmy, run down and tell your Grandpop to keep an eye on garage. Then come up Wilkins’ cut and you’ll be there as quick as us. Go on now.’
Hardly had the words left his lips before Jimmy was away, and together with Johnny and Tony, and Penelope quacking her disgust at having to start another trek, he hurriedly went into the road, skirted the wall of the inn yard, and getting under a broken fence ran across the field, and within a minute was in the wood. Another two minutes of running and they were all scrambling in single file through a narrow opening in a high wall of bramble and onto the only firm piece of bank bordering the lake.
Throwing himself down onto the edge of the bank, Johnny pointed into the water, saying, ‘It was just here.’
Peter’s eyes followed his small brother’s fingers, but there was no sign of a fish of any kind. He knew the elusive ripple of the carp, the squiggle of the roach, and the dash of the salmon, but there was nothing here, only a little family of tiddlers sporting in a splash of sunshine.
‘It was here.’ There was a keen note of disappointment in Johnny’s voice. And when Jimmy came pelting through the hedge crying, ‘Have you seen it?’ he spoke dolefully down into the water, ‘No, it’s gone.’
‘Was it an eel? You know what an eel’s like,’ said Peter, looking from one to the other.
‘No, it wasn’t an eel,’ said Johnny. ‘We know an eel, man. This was big. It was like an eel, but longer, yards longer.’
At this moment the quack-quack of Penelope came from behind the undergrowth, and Peter, nodding in the direction of the duck, said, ‘You’re not having me for a Penelope, are you?’
It was a family joke.
‘No, honest Peter, am I, Johnny?’
Johnny shook his head gravely.
Suddenly there came a spluttering yell from Tony. ‘There!…There!…Petter…fish…fish.’
‘Where? Steady man, where?’
‘There! Petter.’
Peter’s eyes searched the expanse of water indicated by Tony’s great flapping arms. And then he saw it, and he silenced them all with a lift of his hand. He watched it slithering about in a shallow, its long body gleaming like silver against the mud, and he lowered himself slowly down onto the bank and gasped, open-mouthed, scarcely believing what he saw. The length of it! The length of it! Four foot, if an inch. What would it weigh? Ten, twelve pounds, perhaps more. It was the biggest eel he had ever seen—or thought to see. He was actually shivering with excitement. Never had he seen an eel of any size in this lake; in the rivers, aye, in both of the North and South Tynes. He had seen one about two foot long once, slithering past at Featherston’s Bridge, but this one here was beyond even a fisherman’s nightmare! She must be ten inches round.
The eel slid forward, the light on her turning her to mother-of-pearl; she was like a floating stream within a stream. She moved nearer, and did she look at him? Everything now was wiped from Peter’s mind—garage, road, women and cars to repair. She was a beauty. By, lad, she was—a wonder! Oh, if his dad could only see her! He wouldn’t believe it unless he saw her with his own eyes. But they must be careful who they let on to about her, for if the village got wind of her every man jack would be after her. He gave a gasp as she flashed out and away, but, his eyes tight on her, he managed to follow her to where she went into deeper water against the sunlit bank and became still on the mud.
Their heads were all close together now, their eyes concurring to the one point, and Peter, letting out an excited hiss of breath through his teeth, said softly, ‘Mind, all of you, don’t breathe this to a soul, except Dad. Do you hear? And you, Tony?’
‘Aye, Peter.’
‘Aye, Peter.’
‘Not me, Petter.’
‘Are you fishing?’
Not having heard the approach of anyone with whom the voice that asked this question could be associated, they almost overbalanced into the water, and Peter, swinging up to his feet, turned to face the guest of the Hart. And his colour rose just the slightest when he thought, Lord, her cases!
‘I was passing and I heard you.’ Again she asked, ‘Are you fishing?’
‘No, no, not just at the moment.’ He scratched his head, then by way of explanation gave a short laugh and said, ‘The lads here told me of something I couldn’t believe. It sounded like a Lambton worm story, but it’s true all right.’
‘What have you found, a ten-pound salmon?’ Her voice was slightly mocking.
‘No, there’s no salmon in this water, but there’s something here that I never expected to see.’ His eyes narrowed at her. ‘And I bet you’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘What is it?’ She moved forward, and he, pushing the twins to one side, knelt down on the bank and beckoned her to him. And when she was kneeling by his side he pointed along the bank and down into the water. ‘See that, down there?’ He felt as well as heard the gasp she gave, and her thrill of excitement went through them all as she exclaimed, ‘Why, it’s an eel!’
‘You’ve seen one afore?’ There was a trace of disappointment in Peter’s voice. She didn’t look the type who would know anything about fish, let alone eels.
‘Dozens.’
‘Dozens?’ There was open disbelief in his tone, and she turned her face to his as she repeated firmly, ‘Yes, dozens.’
‘Where did you see them?’
‘I was born in Norfolk. I lived by the river for years.’
Well, didn’t that cap all! And he had thought she was an American.
She was looking at the eel again, and he looked at the back of her head, not more than a foot away from him, and unconsciously he sniffed. She had a nice smell about her, different from the scent that Florrie wore. But then Florrie only wore scent at a hop, and then it couldn’t cover up the smell of the horses. And Mavis’s scent…He cut off his thoughts abruptly.
‘Oh, she’s a beauty! Has she been here long?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. I come here pretty often and I haven’t seen her afore. I’ve never seen an eel of any kind on this lake. Too far from the rivers. I’m wondering how long she’ll stay.’
‘Not for long, I shouldn’t think. She’s full grown, ready to go back.’ She moved her head in admiration, and her drawl was more defined as she added, ‘She’s a real Slinky Jane.’
They all looked at her, and Jimmy gave a giggle of a laugh, and hung his head as she turned her eyes towards him and asked, ‘Well, what do you call them?’
‘Nowt, miss, ’cept eels.’ He looked up at her under his brows and smiled, and she returned his smile and said, ‘We always called them Slinky Janes.’
Jimmy giggled again. Then Johnny joined him, and Tony, not to be outdone, let out a high, hysterical yell, which brought the girl’s eyes sharply to him. She stared at him prancing like a dervish, until Peter cried, sharply, ‘That’s enough, Tony!’
‘He’s perfectly harmless.’ He spoke reassuringly under his breath, his face turned towards the water.
‘I’m sure he is, I’m not afraid.’ She moved casually around and looked in the direction of the eel again.
Her hair fell forward onto her face and caused him to comment privately that she looked better like that…younger. Yet he knew now she was no young lass, not with that air and that walk she wasn’t. And a young lass couldn’t possess that something which lay in the depth of her eyes, like age or—
He stood up abruptly, saying, ‘I’d better be getting back. I’m sorry, miss, about your cases. I’ll bring them down right away. The trouble with me is I can never resist a fish.’
‘No?’ She turned her head, and for the third time in their short acquaintance she looked steadily at him, and her scrutiny made him feel as gangly as Tony, as if he were all arms and legs, so it was in a very self-conscious tone that he said, ‘There’s just a favour I’d ask of you, miss. We’re not going to let on about it.’ He nodded towards the water, ‘Except to me dad. If the men of the village knew there was one of her size here, there’d be open competition to net her.’
‘Oh, no!’ She was on her feet now, all her casualness gone. ‘Oh, no! I wouldn’t like to see them do that…she’s making for home—the Sargasso Sea, to breed—she must have a chance.’
His eyebrows moved the slightest. She even knew that. ‘Aye,’ he nodded, ‘that’s where she’ll be bound for. So you won’t say anything, miss, down at the Hart?’
‘No, no, of course not.’
‘Thanks. I’ll get those cases down right away for you. Come on, you lot.’
He marshalled his brothers and Tony and the quacking Penelope through the opening, and just as he was about to follow she said, ‘I have nothing better to do, I could sit here and ward off intruders.’
He didn’t know whether she was laughing at him or not, but he answered, ‘Aye, you could do that, there’s worse things than sitting by the lake.’ And just for a moment he returned the concentrated look in her eyes before swinging about and following the boys.
Chapter Two
By six o’clock that evening not even its owner would have recognised the Alvis. From the bits of her that lay strewn about the garage one could be forgiven for thinking that she had been shot to pieces. Peter had decided to give her a ‘fair do’. If the girl was determined to put her back on the road, well, she would be as good as he could make her, although he realised that, in this particular case, that wasn’t saying much, for he was no miracle worker.
The afternoon had been exceptionally hot, and now feeling both tired and hungry he decided to pack up for the day and go home. Towards this end he straightened his back, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm and inhaled a deep breath, and was about to go into the office to get the key to lock up when a low, red MG, coming to a skidding stop almost an inch from his pumps, caused him to turn on it a countenance that was so full of fury as to make him almost unrecognisable. Gone was the loose-limbed, easygoing and, at this moment, tired individual; in his place was a dark, taut, glowering mass of anger. And without any preamble he barked in a voice that almost outdid Grandpop’s, ‘Now! Davy Mackenzie, I’ve warned you about that trick afore!’
‘Aw, man, be quiet!’ The slight, dapper young man eased himself out of the car and came into the garage. ‘You’re frightened of the death you’ll never die, and your pumps an’ all. Look, they’re still standin’.’ He pointed. ‘Calm down, can’t you?’ He stood surveying Peter’s convulsed face with a grin that drew up one corner of his thin, clean-shaven lip. Then his eyes slowly, almost insolently, dropping away, he walked round the stripped Alvis, his raised eyebrows clearly showing his opinion of it, and coming to a stop outside the office, he kicked at the upturned beer box which was old Pop’s seat. Then from this he turned sharply about, stretched his chin out of his collar and began, in a tone which sounded in direct variance to the one of incitement he had just used, ‘Now look, Peter, I’ll come straight to the point, I’m after something.’
‘You’re telling me!’
‘All right! All right! Don’t bawl. I’m telling you. Didn’t I say I was? Well, here it is. Dad’s bought up Cuthbert’s haulage business, and I won’t deny we’re stuck for a place to park the lorries. I offered you four hundred pounds for a share. Now I’ll go further, we’ll give you nine hundred pounds for the lot. There, we can’t be fairer. And you know me, I don’t shilly-shally. It’s a darn good offer, let me tell you, for as a garage it’s a dry well and you know it.’
When disturbed in any way, Peter’s hands became restless, and he was now rubbing them with tow as if they were made of cast iron. And he kept his attention on the process for some moments until he could
force himself to say, with a semblance of calmness, ‘And you’re offering me nine hundred pounds for a dry well, nine hundred pounds just for a place to stick your lorries in! It’s not because the road business is settled, is it?’ Without raising his head he raised his eyes and looked at Davy, and Davy, blinking rapidly now, had the grace to look sheepish, and he blustered, ‘Why man, that’s been in the air for years, it’s only another rumour.’
‘It isn’t in the air any longer, and you know it. It’s no rumour. I can see you offering me nine hundred pounds for a place you said a few days ago wasn’t worth five hundred altogether; I can see you jumping four hundred overnight for a piece of land to stick your lorries on.’
‘Well,’ Davy wagged his head, ‘all right, say it’s as you say. What if the road is going through? It’s a fair enough offer. And when it goes through, where are you going to get the money from to expand? I ask you that. You might raise what this is worth,’ with a disparaging gesture he waved his hand about the garage, ‘but I’m telling you, money’s tight these days and you’d want at least three thousand to build any kind of a show here. Of course, there’s always the other side to this.’
‘Aye, I know,’ Peter put in quickly ‘partnership. I think I’ve heard something of that afore an’ all. Now look, once and for all I’m not selling, and I wouldn’t have you, Davy, for a partner and you know it, at least you should if you weren’t so bloomin’ thick-skinned.’
This statement, which left nothing to doubt, did not apparently hurt Davy’s feelings for he replied, even soothingly, ‘All right, all right, don’t lose your rag. Huh! I’ve never met a bloke like you, Peter—like a lamb with everybody else in the place except me. It’s funny, I’ve never been able to understand it.’
Peter looked at Davy scornfully. Davy Mackenzie would suck up to a cobra if he thought he’d get a share of its venom. Then his scorn gave place to a leaping anger, as Davy in a soft, sly undertone said, ‘And there’s our side to this you know, Peter, for if you’re thinking of coming into our family I don’t suppose you’ll be above taking anything that comes our Mavis’s way, will you?’
Slinky Jane Page 4
