Название | A Woman’s Fortune |
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Автор произведения | Josephine Cox |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008128586 |
When everyone was back at the van and standing around in the sun, Sue got out a cake tin, which was filled with rather warm sandwiches, and when they’d eaten those, another in which there was cake, and Jeanie poured lemonade from a flask. Michael produced a bottle of beer with a flourish, which Fergus declined to share because he was driving. Evie noticed that her father drank it all himself then.
The sandwiches and most of the cake eaten, the Carters and Fergus climbed back into the van and set off again. There was a stop at a petrol station, where Sue paid for the van to be refuelled and bought some boiled sweets, but by mid-afternoon the novelty of the journey had worn off and everyone was bored, fidgeting and eager to arrive. They had long since passed signs for the city of Birmingham and still they headed south.
‘Not too far now,’ said Fergus when Robert asked for the tenth time if they were nearly there. ‘We’ll be there before nightfall, don’t you worry.’
‘Thing is, Fergus,’ said Peter, reasonably, ‘it isn’t dark until nine o’clock, so that’s quite a long time yet.’
‘It could well be,’ said Fergus, vaguely. ‘We’ll have to see how it goes …’
‘Do you know what this place is like, Fergus? Have you ever been there before?’ asked Jeanie.
‘No, I haven’t, Jeanie. I just said to Brendan that I’d take you in the van. I think it might be quite a small village as I’ve never heard of it and I had to look up the way on a map. I don’t think Brendan knows much about it either. But he trusts his friend Jack Fletcher so it’ll be all right, don’t you worry.’
‘But it is all right for us to be there?’ asked Jeanie, beginning to get anxious. ‘We don’t know this Jack Fletcher, and Brendan’s a long way away now.’
Seeing Jeanie quietly wringing her hands, Evie picked up her mother’s mood and began to worry too. What if there had been a mistake and there wasn’t an empty house after all? What if someone else was living there? Or maybe there’d been a mix-up and they’d been given the wrong address? Or he could have been misled by the owner of the house …
Peter, sensing her distress, nudged her gently with his elbow. ‘C’mon, Evie, it might even be nice,’ he whispered bravely.
It was late afternoon when Fergus drove past a shabby-looking farm and slowed down at a sign announcing a village.
‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘Church Sandleton.’
Everyone sat up and peered out to try to get the gist of the place. There was an assortment of old and new houses lining the road, a pub and a couple of shops.
‘Slow down, Fergus, and let’s remind ourselves what it is we’re looking for,’ Sue said, fishing the writing pad out of her handbag. Then she had a rummage around for her reading glasses and Fergus pulled into the side of the road while she found them and put them on. ‘The house we’re looking for is called Pendles, so keep your eyes peeled for that name,’ she said.
‘Pendles …’ Michael murmured, looking to the right and left, while Evie, Peter and Jeanie craned forward in their seats to see the nameplates on gates as Fergus drove slowly on.
Jeanie caught sight of a cottage with a garden full of blooming roses and lavender. ‘Slow down, Fergus. Is that it?’ She squinted hopefully at the sign on the gatepost, then saw it said Lavender Cottage. ‘No …’ Disappointed, she sat back.
‘Wait, wait, what’s that one?’ said Sue, pointing over to Fergus’s side of the road where a fine square house was set back with a black front door and steps up to it from a wrought-iron gate. ‘P … It’s P-summat, I can’t quite see …’ She couldn’t keep a note of hope from her voice.
‘Prospect House,’ said Fergus, and everyone sighed and subsided in their seats.
‘It must be on this road somewhere because the address is “High Street”,’ said Sue.
‘Brendan told me that Jack Fletcher said it’s towards the end of the village. I thought we’d find it easily,’ Michael added.
The end of the high street was in sight as the buildings became more widely spaced and gave way to hedges and fields ahead of them. Evie felt a flicker of panic. What if there was no such place? Would they end up living out of Fergus’s van? She dismissed the ridiculous thought immediately but her stomach was now churning nervously.
‘It’s just a derelict shop this side and what looks like it might be a market garden over there,’ said Sue. ‘We must have missed it. Let’s turn round and go through again.’
‘No, wait,’ said Michael. ‘There! Over the shop. It’s called Pendle’s. It must be that.’
‘It can’t be,’ breathed Jeanie faintly. ‘No one said anything about a shop. We’re looking for a house.’
‘It has to be that,’ insisted Michael. ‘Stop here, Fergus, and let’s have a look.’
Fergus pulled up and Michael climbed stiffly out and went to the front of the boarded-up shop. There was a door at one side with wood planks nailed over it and a heavy padlock securing a hasp. Next to it was a large expanse of window, also covered in planks. The paintwork around the window, what was visible of the door and on the fascia, was a dull green. The deep fascia spanned the whole of the front and on it in peeling gold capital letters was painted the name ‘PENDLE’S’.
There was no doubt this was the right name, Jeanie saw. She hoped it wasn’t actually the right building, that there would somehow be another place called Pendles, and it would look more like, if not Prospect House then at least that cottage with the pretty garden they’d passed earlier.
‘Brendan said the key would be here, is that right, Sue?’ called Michael, looking up at the building, his back to them all waiting in the van.
Evie guessed her father was disappointed too and hiding his face until he was ready to put on a brave show.
‘Round the side, under a brick, apparently,’ confirmed Sue.
Michael went up the side of the shop, saw a ruined-looking wooden door, lifted the sneck and disappeared through it. A few moments later he reappeared holding up a key.
Oh dear, thought Evie. That means it really is the right place. And it’s going to be awful, I know it is.
She could hardly bear to watch as her father fitted the key to the padlock and it opened. Everything now had a dreadful inevitability. He removed the padlock, eased open the door with its planks attached to the frame and went inside.
‘Come on,’ said Sue, heavily, climbing out of the van. ‘I think we’re home.’
The Carters and Fergus stood in the shop part of the building. The good news was that the electricity was on so they could at least see how awful the place was behind the boarded-up window. There was long counter parallel to the interior wall and floor-to-ceiling drawers and shelves against the far wall. They were empty and dusty, a few dead flies littering the surfaces and the front window, and mouse droppings on the floor. There was no indication what Pendle’s had ever sold or how long the place had been empty, but the smell was stale as if it had been abandoned a while ago.
‘God save us,’ muttered Jeanie, her voice trembling. ‘A shop. Not even a proper house.’ Her face was white with tiredness and disappointment.
‘You stay here. I’ll go and look upstairs,’ said Sue. She thought she’d better learn the worst and break it to Jeanie gently rather than risk her kicking off unprepared. It had been such a long day, it didn’t look like they would be able to get to bed for ages yet and Sue had the unhappy idea that Jeanie’s fuse might just be ready to blow. ‘Come with me, Peter, Evie, and let’s see what we can find.’