folk in the village was every bit as comprehensive as Mandy’s, so Alice decided to ask her the question she had avoided asking Mandy. ‘While we’re talking about village people, I wonder of you could satisfy my curiosity about somebody else?’
‘I’m sure I don’t know as much about the village goings-on as Mandy, but I can try.’
Alice smiled. She felt sure the old lady in her heyday would have been able to run rings round Amanda. ‘What can you tell me about Mr Tremayne at Manor Farm?’ She immediately saw Mrs Tinker’s face cloud.
‘Now, Alice, that really is a sad, sad tale.’ She gave Alice a weary look. ‘And it’s a long one. I’ll tell you tomorrow, if you don’t mind. I’m think I might just have a little snooze now.’
Her eyes were already closing as Alice left the room.
A sad, sad tale
. Alice was still thinking about Mrs Tinker’s words as she drew up outside 23 Lyndhurst Avenue. The Burrell brothers had gone off to another job this week, so as to leave the place free for the electrician and plumber. Inside, she found Scottie on his knees in the kitchen, identifiable by his helpful tattoo, while Gerry the Giraffe had disappeared into the roof space. Sinister thumps and a ghostly scraping sound indicated his exact whereabouts. Tentatively, she climbed the ladder until her head was inside the loft. It was a big space and they had even considered turning it into a fourth bedroom for a while. In the end it was decided to keep it for storage.
‘Hello, Gerry, is that you?’
‘Certainly is. I’m doing a bit of treasure hunting.’ He pointed across to a small suitcase. ‘I found that underneath the old insulation. It’s locked. I thought you might want to try and pick the lock. Otherwise I can easily break it for you if you like.’
He crawled back across the joists and handed her the case, which she took gingerly.
‘Feels a bit too light for doubloons, I’m afraid.’ She gave him a big smile.
He was clearly one of the glass half full persuasion. ‘You never know, it could be a map showing the location of buried treasure.’
‘Well, if that’s what it is, you’ll be due a finder’s fee. Anyway, we’ll open it together when you come back downstairs.’
‘Ten minutes and I’m out of here.’
Alice climbed back down the ladder and took the case into the lounge. The new floor joists were in position and she knew that as soon as Scottie and Gerry had finished, the new floorboards would go down. She laid the case in the corner and went out through the kitchen into the garden. Outside, Scottie the plumber was on his knees, about to start drilling a hole in the wall for the sink waste.
‘It’s going to get a bit noisy and a bit dusty round here. You might do well to stay down the far end of the garden for a few minutes.’ She thanked him and took his advice. The garden, now that all the rubbish had been cleared away, looked much bigger. Miraculously, they had even found a couple of shrubs still alive in spite of having spent years under heaps of rubble. She had decided to simply turf the rest.
‘Afternoon.’ She spun round, unsure where the voice had come from, and looked up. There, peeking over the top of the fence, was a face she hadn’t seen before.
‘You must be my new neighbour.’ He was a sandy-haired man with piercing royal blue eyes. ‘Name’s Mortimore. I would offer you my hand, but I’d probably fall off this damn ladder while I did so.’
She gave him a bright smile. ‘Alice Grant. I knocked on your door a few times, but you were never there.’
‘Just come back from Italy. I’ve got a house near Florence and I find myself spending most of the year there. I only really use this place as a pied-à-terre for a few weeks now and then. I must say it’s good to see the clutter all gone. You’ve got a fair job on your hands, I dare say.’
She grimaced. ‘It wasn’t a pretty sight. But, now, we’re getting on very well. It’s all cleared out and
‘I’m sure I don’t know as much about the village goings-on as Mandy, but I can try.’
Alice smiled. She felt sure the old lady in her heyday would have been able to run rings round Amanda. ‘What can you tell me about Mr Tremayne at Manor Farm?’ She immediately saw Mrs Tinker’s face cloud.
‘Now, Alice, that really is a sad, sad tale.’ She gave Alice a weary look. ‘And it’s a long one. I’ll tell you tomorrow, if you don’t mind. I’m think I might just have a little snooze now.’
Her eyes were already closing as Alice left the room.
A sad, sad tale
. Alice was still thinking about Mrs Tinker’s words as she drew up outside 23 Lyndhurst Avenue. The Burrell brothers had gone off to another job this week, so as to leave the place free for the electrician and plumber. Inside, she found Scottie on his knees in the kitchen, identifiable by his helpful tattoo, while Gerry the Giraffe had disappeared into the roof space. Sinister thumps and a ghostly scraping sound indicated his exact whereabouts. Tentatively, she climbed the ladder until her head was inside the loft. It was a big space and they had even considered turning it into a fourth bedroom for a while. In the end it was decided to keep it for storage.
‘Hello, Gerry, is that you?’
‘Certainly is. I’m doing a bit of treasure hunting.’ He pointed across to a small suitcase. ‘I found that underneath the old insulation. It’s locked. I thought you might want to try and pick the lock. Otherwise I can easily break it for you if you like.’
He crawled back across the joists and handed her the case, which she took gingerly.
‘Feels a bit too light for doubloons, I’m afraid.’ She gave him a big smile.
He was clearly one of the glass half full persuasion. ‘You never know, it could be a map showing the location of buried treasure.’
‘Well, if that’s what it is, you’ll be due a finder’s fee. Anyway, we’ll open it together when you come back downstairs.’
‘Ten minutes and I’m out of here.’
Alice climbed back down the ladder and took the case into the lounge. The new floor joists were in position and she knew that as soon as Scottie and Gerry had finished, the new floorboards would go down. She laid the case in the corner and went out through the kitchen into the garden. Outside, Scottie the plumber was on his knees, about to start drilling a hole in the wall for the sink waste.
‘It’s going to get a bit noisy and a bit dusty round here. You might do well to stay down the far end of the garden for a few minutes.’ She thanked him and took his advice. The garden, now that all the rubbish had been cleared away, looked much bigger. Miraculously, they had even found a couple of shrubs still alive in spite of having spent years under heaps of rubble. She had decided to simply turf the rest.
‘Afternoon.’ She spun round, unsure where the voice had come from, and looked up. There, peeking over the top of the fence, was a face she hadn’t seen before.
‘You must be my new neighbour.’ He was a sandy-haired man with piercing royal blue eyes. ‘Name’s Mortimore. I would offer you my hand, but I’d probably fall off this damn ladder while I did so.’
She gave him a bright smile. ‘Alice Grant. I knocked on your door a few times, but you were never there.’
‘Just come back from Italy. I’ve got a house near Florence and I find myself spending most of the year there. I only really use this place as a pied-à-terre for a few weeks now and then. I must say it’s good to see the clutter all gone. You’ve got a fair job on your hands, I dare say.’
She grimaced. ‘It wasn’t a pretty sight. But, now, we’re getting on very well. It’s all cleared out and
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