The Chalmers Case (2 page)

“And mum and
dad said it was a bad idea and that you should be a teacher,” Janet added.

Joan smiled
sadly.
 
“Exactly, but how did you
know that?”

“Because
that’s what they told me every time I went to them with yet another idea of
what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

“I remember
you wanted to be a pilot during the war,” Joan reminded her.
 
“I think mum and dad were right to
discourage you from that.”

“That was one
of my wilder ambitions,” Janet said, smiling at the memory.
 
“I also wanted to disguise myself as a
boy and join the army when I was nine or ten, just as the war was coming to an
end.
 
Not all of my ideas were foolish,
though, but whatever I said, mum and dad always insisted that teaching was
best.”

“And they were
right,” Joan said firmly.

“Probably,”
Janet said after a moment.
 
“But I
still wish I’d felt as if I had more choices.”

“Women didn’t
in those days,” Joan reminded her.
 
“And mum and dad were doing what they thought was best, anyway.
 
They wanted to be certain that we’d be
able to find good jobs, and be able to look after ourselves until we found
husbands.”

“And we’re
still working on that one,” Janet said with a laugh.

“I’m not,”
Joan said tartly.

“And yet
you’re the only one of us who is dating right now,” Janet pointed out.

“Michael is
just a friend,” Joan replied, her eyes not meeting Janet’s.

“And he’s
lovely and smart and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be having fun with
him,” Janet told her.
 

Michael
Donaldson was their
neighbour
.
 
He lived in one of the pair of
semi-detached houses across the road from them.
 
A widower who had once had his own
chemist shop, he was retired now.
 
He and Joan had been going out together for several weeks.
 
Joan had never dated before and the pair
was taking their relationship very slowly.

“Anyway, ever
since that holiday, I’ve always dreamt of opening my own bed and breakfast, but
I never talked about it because it seemed like an impossible idea,” Joan
said.
 
“And now, after all these
years, my dream might just come true.
 
If you ever finish tidying the library, that is.”

With that,
Joan turned and headed back towards the kitchen.
 
“Lunch is at midday,” she reminded her
sister from the doorway.

“I’ll be
there,” Janet assured her.
 
After
Joan left, she glanced around the room and sighed deeply.
 
Now that she knew what was motiving her
sister, Janet felt as if she needed to hurry.
 
She was standing in the way of her
sister accomplishing a dream that was more than fifty years in the making.
 
With one last push in every direction,
Janet gave up on the mysterious panel and began to quickly dust books and
return them to their shelf.
 
By the
time the clock in the sitting room began its twelve chimes, she’d finished the
shelves by the door and started on the next set.
 

“I’ll do more
after our shopping trip,” she muttered to herself as she shut the library door
and headed towards the kitchen.
 

Joan was just
putting out lunch, and Janet quickly washed her hands before she sat down at
the small table that took up one corner of the spacious kitchen.

“If I can get
the cleaning done by Thursday afternoon, I can start figuring out a plan for
organising
the shelves on Friday.
 
Once I’ve worked out how I want to
arrange things, it won’t take more than a week to get it done.
 
I suppose you can start booking guests
for a fortnight’s time,” she told Joan while they ate.

“I shall have
to go back through the recent requests and see what people wanted,” Joan
said.
 
“I’ve been saving them,
hoping we might be ready soon.
 
Of
course, I’ve already told them we weren’t open, so they all may have made other
arrangements already.”

“But we get
rung up nearly every day with people who want rooms,” Janet pointed out.
 
“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble
finding people who want to come.”

“I hope not,”
Joan said excitedly.

The sisters
had been surprised by the amount of interest that was being shown in their
little guesthouse.
 
Margaret
Appleton, the previous owner, had clearly been very successful and it seemed as
if a great many of her former guests were eager to visit again.

Janet forced herself
to smile at her sister in spite of her reservations.
 
In a way, she was disappointed in
herself.
 
She was always the sister
who was looking for new adventures, and now when confronted with one, she was
dragging her feet.
 
For Joan’s sake,
if nothing else, Janet knew she needed to embrace their new lifestyle.
 
They were about to open a bed and
breakfast, whether Janet was ready or not.

Chapter
Two

After lunch,
Janet took care of the washing up while Joan took some measurements in the
guest rooms.

“We really do
need good names for the rooms,” she reminded Janet when she rejoined her in the
kitchen.

“I know.
 
Maybe the paintings we find will provide
some inspiration,” Janet suggested.

“Let’s hope
so,” Joan replied.

Joan was happy
to drive the short distance into the quiet
centre
of
Doveby
Dale.
 
There was a small car park for the city
centre
shops, and Janet smiled when she saw how many spaces were available.

“It doesn’t
look as if the grand opening is drawing much of a crowd,” she commented as Joan
pulled into a spot.

“Maybe some
people walked in from nearby,” Joan suggested.

There were a
handful houses on the streets around the
centre
, so
it was possible that some people might have walked over to see what WTC
Antiques was offering.

The sisters
walked slowly along the strip of shops, looking in windows as they went.
 
The first shop was a newsagent and Janet
couldn’t stop herself from checking the headlines on a few of her
favourite
celebrity magazines.
 
She didn’t buy them often, as Joan
didn’t really approve.
 
Once in a
while, though, when Joan was out with Michael, Janet would buy a few and read
them in front of the
telly
with ice cream and
popcorn, two other things that Joan didn’t approve of, at least not on a
regular basis.

Next door to
that was the small chemist shop that used to belong to their
neighbour
, Michael.
 
He had been bought out by a large chain
, and
the small shop had been refitted so that it looked nearly identical, on a
smaller scale, to just about every other store in their chain.
 

The next shop
was empty, with a large sign in the window giving the details for anyone
interested in letting the space.
 
The final shop in the row was the new antique shop.
 
There was a small sign in the window
that said “Grand Opening” in an elaborate script that was nearly impossible to
read.
 
Janet and Joan stopped
outside the door and looked in the window.

There were
several large groupings of furniture arranged as if they were in their own
small rooms.
 
While many of the
pieces were undoubtedly old, Janet didn’t see anything that she thought looked
like a valuable antique.
 
From where
they were standing, there didn’t appear to be anyone in the shop.
 

“Do you think
they’re open?” Joan asked.

“They must
be,” Janet said with more confidence than she felt.
 
She stepped forward and pulled on the
door handle.
 
The door stuck a bit,
but finally pulled open.
 
As it did
so, a loud bell sounded somewhere in the building.
 
As Joan and Janet stepped inside,
William Chalmers himself came rushing out from a back room towards them.

“Ah, the
lovely Markham sisters,” he said smarmily.
 
“I’m so delighted you managed to stop by, and when it’s lovely and quiet
as well.
 
I was just thinking about
ringing you, actually.”

Janet glanced
at Joan before she responded.
 
“It
is very quiet, isn’t it?
 
I do hope
you were busier earlier.”

The man
flushed under her steady gaze.
 
He
was somewhere in his sixties, with grey hair and eyes.
 
His suit was a darker grey.
 
Janet knew very little about men’s
clothing, but to her the suit looked as if it must have been expensive and
tailor-made for the man.

“We had a
small crowd when I first opened the door this morning, but it has been quieter
since then.
 
I suspect it might pick
up again later this afternoon,” he told them.

“I do hope
so,” Janet replied.

“Yes, well,
thank you,” the
man
said.
 
“But what brings you in this
afternoon?
 
Were you looking for
anything in particular or just having a look around?”

“We need some
artwork,” Joan said.

“Excellent.
 
I have a small gallery in the back
room.”
 
He beamed at them.
 
“Just follow me.”

Clearly the
man was trying to show off the various furniture pieces as if they were being
used in someone’s home, but having so many room-type groupings all around the
place made walking through the space incredibly difficult.
 
Janet found herself winding her way
through a small sitting room arrangement, dodging a huge dining table with ten
chairs and then stumbling over an enormous wooden filing cabinet that was
nearly touching the large desk next to it.
 

The back wall
of the room was arranged like a library, and Janet wondered where the man had
acquired the huge collection of books that lined the long wooden shelves.
 
She found she was unable to stop herself
from taking a closer look.
 
As she
approached the shelves, William spoke.

“Oh, I’m sure
you aren’t interested in any bookshelves,” he said loudly.
 
“You have plenty of your own, I’m told.”

“Not shelves,
but I’m always interested in books,” Janet replied.
 
She took another step forward and then
frowned.
 
There was something not quite
right about the collection of books on display.
 
She reached out to touch the binding of
the first book on the shelf.
  
With a frown, she pulled the book from the shelf, finding that the
entire shelf full of titles came out together.

“It’s just a
big empty cardboard box,” she exclaimed as she turned the long and narrow box
over in her hands.

William
quickly crossed to her and took the box from her hands.
 
“It’s a wonderful way to display
bookshelves without having to worry about moving a lot of books if someone
wants to buy the shelves,” he said, sounding defensive.

Janet smiled
as she looked again at the shelf.
 
“Prime and Prejudice, Erma, King Lore, Romeo and Julia, Jane Err, Grand
Expectations,
Middleapril
, Lady
Chattery’s
Lover, A Clockwork Apple, The Picture of David Grey.”
 
She shook her head and then
chuckled.
 
“It’s quite funny
really.
 
I wish I had time to read
them all.”

“Yes, well, as
I said, it’s the perfect way to display shelves.
 
Now if you’d like to follow me?”

Still
chuckling to herself over the almost classic titles, Janet followed William and
her sister into the back room.
 
As
William had told them, it was set up like a small art gallery, and Janet was
surprised at the number and quality of the paintings as she glanced quickly
around.

“Obviously
we’d prefer to use art by local artists,” Joan said.
 
“We were wondering if any of them might
like to display their work in our guest rooms where we might offer it for sale,
actually.”

William
frowned.
 
“I don’t actually have
anything by local artists at the moment,” he said.
 
 
“I simply haven’t been here long enough
to make the necessary local contacts.
 
I’ve always lived and worked in London, and I feel fortunate to have
been able to persuade some of my
favourite
London
artists to let me have some of their work to sell here.”

“Perhaps we
need to find some local artists ourselves, then,” Joan said.

“At least take
a moment to have a look around,” William suggested, sounding just a little bit
desperate.
 
“I have some wonderful
pieces that I’m sure would perfectly finish your guest rooms.”

Joan looked as
if she wanted to argue, but Janet didn’t give her the chance.
 
“I really like this one,” she told
William as she walked towards a large canvas.
 
It was completely abstract, just a swirl
of
colours
making indistinct shapes, and nothing like
anything Janet had ever considered purchasing in the past, but there was
something about it that appealed to her.

“It’s too big
for the guest rooms,” Joan said dismissively.

“It would fit
in my bedroom,” Janet suggested.

She looked at
the discreetly placed price tag and grimaced.
 
It was several thousand pounds, which
was considerably more than she would even think about paying for such a thing.

“I can
probably work with you a little on the price,” William told her eagerly.
 
“It is my grand opening, after
all.”
 
He suggested a price that was
considerably lower, but still well outside Janet’s budget.

“I’m sorry,
but I think for today we need to focus on the paintings for the guest rooms,”
Janet said.
 
She moved past the man
and worked her way around the room, firmly blocking the painting she’d liked
from her mind.

“I haven’t
seen anything that’s just right,” Joan said after several minutes.
 
“And I still really want to find things
by local artists, anyway.”

“I’m sure I can
find something appropriate,” William said hastily.
 
“I have so many contacts in the art
world.
 
I’m sure I’ll be able to
find some local artists who’ll be interested in showing you their work.
 
Give me a couple of days.”

“Why don’t we
come back one day next week?” Janet suggested.
 
“I’m sure you’re busy with the opening
and everything, so that gives you some time to see what you can find.”

“Excellent,”
the man said, smiling brightly at them both. “I won’t let you down.
 
Now, did you need anything else today?”

“I’d love a
look around the rest of the store,” Janet said.
 
Really, she was just being nosy, and she
also wanted another look at the fake book titles.
 
For some reason she’d found them very
amusing.

“We haven’t
long,” Joan said in a no-nonsense voice.
 
“There’s so much to do back at the house.”

Janet ignored
her and strode back into the front room.
 
William and Joan followed.

“I was going
to ring you later, you know,” William was saying.
 
“I have some friends coming to visit
later this week and I was hoping you might be able to accommodate them.”

Janet looked
over at her sister, but Joan didn’t even glance in her direction.

“I assume
you’ll vouch for these friends of yours,” Joan said to William.

“Of course, of
course,” he said heartily.
 
“Harold
is actually a distant cousin and he and Mildred are as much family as
friends.
 
They’ll be the perfect
guests for you.”

Janet covered
her snort of disbelief with a fake cough as she crossed the room towards a
collection of conservatory furniture.
 
There was a small table there that had caught her eye.

“How long
would they want to stay? Joan asked.

“Only for a
few nights,” William replied.
 
“They’re planning on arriving on Wednesday and staying until the
weekend.”

“I suppose we
could manage,” Joan said, her tone doubtful.
 
“The library isn’t finished,
though.
 
I hope they won’t mind not
having access to it, but it’s a work in progress, as it were.”

“I’m sure they
won’t mind in the slightest,” William assured her.
 
“They’re coming to spend time with me
and help with the shop for a few days.
 
They won’t have time to read.”

Janet frowned
at the thought of people not making time to read, but she kept her mouth
shut.
 
The bed and breakfast was
Joan’s baby and she wasn’t going to interfere in it unless she absolutely had
to.

Joan and
William crossed the room to the small desk at the back that appeared to be
William’s office.
 
He and Joan took
seats on opposite sides of the desk, presumably making the arrangements for his
friends.

“I’m going to
take another look at that painting,” Janet called to them as she headed towards
the back room.
 

She stood in
front of it for a long moment, studying it.
 
If she could work out why she liked it
so much, maybe she could persuade herself that she wasn’t all that fond of it,
she told herself.
 
After a while,
she gave up.
 
There was just
something about it, the
colours
, the shapes,
the
textures, something that she really liked.
 

Glancing back
into the main room, she saw that William and Joan were still talking.
 
With a sigh, she turned and did another
circuit of the gallery space, studying each painting in turn, but finding
nothing else she especially liked.
 
After a few minutes, she noticed that there was a door along one
wall.
 
Undoubtedly it led to storage
space or an employee loo.

Firmly telling
herself that it was none of her business anyway, she turned and walked briskly
away from temptation.
 
A moment
later, she was back in front of the door, her hand itching to try the knob.
 
It wasn’t that she was nosy, she reminded
herself, just incredibly curious.
 
She looked back towards the main room and saw nothing.
 
Already chiding herself for her
“curiosity,” she tried the knob.