The Clocks

‘Oh, no, much older than you,’ said Geraldine, ‘but I didn’t really see him properly because he drove up to the house-this way.’ She pointed to the right. ‘He drew up in front of 19 although he was on the wrong side of the road. But it doesn’t matter in a street like this. And then he went in through the gate bent over the basket. I could only see the back of his head and when he came out again he was rubbing his face. I expect he found it a bit hot and trying, carrying that basket.’

‘And then he drove off again?’

‘Yes. Why do you think it so interesting?’

‘Well, I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I thought perhapshe might have seen something interesting.’

Ingrid flung the door open. She was wheeling a trolley.

‘We eat dinner now,’ she said, nodding brightly.

‘Goody,’ said Geraldine, ‘I’m starving.’

I got up.

‘I must be going now,’ I said. ‘Goodbye, Geraldine.’

‘Goodbye. What about this thing?’ She picked up the fruit knife. ‘It’s not mine.’ Her voice became wistful. ‘I wish it were.’

‘It looks as though it’s nobody’s in particular, doesn’t it?’

‘Would that make it treasure trove, or whatever it is?’

‘Something of the kind,’ I said. ‘I think you’d better hang on to it. That is, hang on to it until someone else claims it. But I don’t think,’ I said truthfully, ‘that anybody will.’

‘Get me an apple, Ingrid,’ said Geraldine.

‘Apple?’

‘Pomme! Apfel!’

She did her linguistic best. I left them to it.

Chapter 26

Mrs Rival pushed open the door of the Peacock’s Arms and made a slightly unsteady progress towards the bar. She was murmuring under her breath. She was no stranger to this particular hostelry and was greeted quite affectionately by the barman.

‘How do, Flo,’ he said, ‘how’s tricks?’

‘It’s not right,’ said Mrs Rival. ‘It’s not fair. No, it’s not right. I know what I’m talking about, Fred, and I say it’s not right.’

‘Of course it isn’t right,’ said Fred, soothingly. ‘What is, I’d like to know? Want the usual, dear?’

Mrs Rival nodded assent. She paid and began to sip from her glass. Fred moved away to attend to another customer. Her drink cheered Mrs Rival slightly. She still muttered under her breath but with a more good-humoured expression. When Fred was near her once more she addressed him again with a slightly softened manner.

‘All the same, I’m not going to put up with it,’ she said. ‘No, I’m not. If there’s one thing I can’t bear, it’s deceit. I don’t stand for deceit, I never did.’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ said Fred.

He surveyed her with a practised eye. ‘Had a good few already,’ he thought to himself. ‘Still, she can stand a couple more, I expect. Something’s upset her.’

‘Deceit,’ said Mrs Rival. ‘Prevari-prevari-well, you know the word I mean.’

‘Sure I know,’ said Fred.

He turned to greet another acquaintance. The unsatisfactory performance of certain dogs came under review. Mrs Rival continued to murmur.

‘I don’t like it and I won’t stand for it. I shall say so. People can’t think they can go around treating me like that. No, indeed they can’t. I mean, it’s not right and if you don’t stick up for yourself, who’ll stick up for you? Give me another, dearie,’ she added in a louder voice.

Fred obliged.

‘I should go home after that one, if I were you,’ he advised.

He wondered what had upset the old girl so much. She was usually fairly even-tempered. A friendly soul, always good for a laugh.

‘It’ll get me in bad, Fred, you see,’ she said. ‘When people ask you to do a thing, they should tell you all about it. They should tell you what it means and what they’re doing. Liars. Dirty liars, that’s what I say. And I won’t stand for it.’

‘I should cut along home, if I were you,’ said Fred, as he observed a tear about to trickle down the mascaraed splendour. ‘Going to come on to rain soon, it is, and rain hard, too. Spoil that pretty hat of yours.’

Mrs Rival gave one faint appreciative smile.

‘I always was fond of cornflowers,’ she said. ‘Oh, dear me, I don’t knowwhat to do, I’m sure.’

‘I should go home and have a nice kip,’ said the barman, kindly.

‘Well, perhaps, but-’

‘Come on, now, you don’t want to spoil that hat.’

‘That’s very true,’ said Mrs Rival. ‘Yes, that’s very true. That’s a very prof-profumed-no I don’t mean that-what do I mean?’

‘Profound remark of yours, Fred.’

‘Thank you very much.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Fred.

Mrs Rival slipped down from her high seat and went not too steadily towards the door.

‘Something seems to have upset old Flo tonight,’ said one of the customers.

‘She’s usually a cheerful bird-but we all have our ups and downs,’ said another man, a gloomy-looking individual.

‘If anyone had told me,’ said the first man, ‘that Jerry Grainger would come in fifth, way behind Queen Caroline, I wouldn’t have believed it. If you ask me, there’s been hanky-panky. Racing’s not straight nowadays. Dope the horses, they do. All of ’em.’