Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (21 page)

Zack tried opening his mouth but when he did no words came out so he shut it again.

Ford carefully hammered the lid back on the tin of paint, having already placed the brush in an old jug kept specially for that purpose, judging by the multi-coloured streaks of paint they had never managed to wash off it.

He straightened up and looked Zack straight in the eye. ‘And?’

Zack cleared his throat. ‘Well, it occurred to me that because of your past, I mean, when you were in the scrap metal business, you would likely be able to tell me who
might
be guilty of stealing our lead round here. After all we’ve no main road through the village so no one sees the church as they’re passing by, so it must be someone local, don’t you think?’

Ford remained silent.

Zack said, ‘I intend to find them myself as the police have made no progress at all in that direction.’

Ford mulled over what Zack had said. Well, at least it appeared that was what he was doing, but he still didn’t reply.

‘Anyway, if you can’t help, I’ll be on my way.’ After a moment’s hesitation Zack decided to go home. If the chap wouldn’t even speak . . .

‘Come in. Merc’s making coffee.’

Zack’s spirits rose. He slipped off his shoes as Ford did and followed him into the house.

Seating himself at the kitchen table Ford pulled a pad of paper towards him and took a pen out of his shirt pocket. ‘In a twenty-mile radius of Turnham Malpas there are four scrap metal merchants. I shall write them down on this paper in the order of the likelihood, in my opinion, of them being guilty. So the one at the top is the most likely, the least likely is at the bottom. Right?’

Zack nodded. He’d always been able to read upsidedown writing and he watched with interest. As the list lengthened his eyebrows rose up his forehead. Them? Surely not? Never. Couldn’t be, not them.

Ford tore the sheet off the pad and passed it to Zack. ‘That is as far as I am prepared to go. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. You do not mention my name because I could possibly be a goner if you do. But, for the sake of the village, which I love, I am prepared to point you in the right direction. If you fail, don’t feel disappointed. Everyone on that list will tell you nothing but lies, they don’t know what truth is, believe me.’

‘You mean they’re all . . .’ Zack didn’t know how to say guilty without inferring. But Ford said it for him.

‘All guilty. Yes.’

Zack raised questioning eyebrows, asking Ford if he knew more than he was letting on, but Ford avoided his eyes, and instead of answering his unspoken question, asked Merc if the coffee was ready.

‘It is. Here we are. Sugar, Zack?’

‘Just one, please.’

Merc began telling Zack about the hanging they were stitching for the new church the other side of Culworth, and the atmosphere changed completely. Ford appeared to drink his coffee in peace, while Zack seethed in turmoil. Had Ford confessed to him or not?

Ford suddenly interrupted their conversation. ‘Zack, you do know you won’t actually find the lead. There are no names on pieces of lead, and the turnover at the moment is so fast after perhaps three weeks it will have been sold on. You do realise though that his own workmen could be stealing for the business with the owner’s connivance?’ Ford winked, excused himself because he had some more painting to do, he said, and left Zack with Merc to finish his coffee.

‘Does he mean that?’

‘What?’

‘That sometimes the workers in the scrap metal yards steal lead, and the owners buy it from them?’

‘Ford doesn’t lie.’

‘I see.’

‘Don’t ask me any more. Ford’s said more than he should. Finished your coffee? I have to press on. Housework, you know. That list you have in your pocket, you don’t tell a living soul where it’s come from, right?’

‘OK.’

‘In fact, I’d like it a lot better if you wrote it out in your own hand and I burned his original list. Here, another piece of paper.’

So Zack copied the list out on to a sheet of writing paper Merc found in the kitchen-table drawer, and she got the matches and burned the original.

It was only when he was walking down Shepherd’s Hill on his way home that Zack realised that Ford and Merc were actually scared, really scared, and a shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he wouldn’t use this list; it all appeared far too dangerous to him. Anyway, he’d think about it.

But soon a curious incident took place which lead Zack further down the path of finding out who’d stolen the lead.

Marie needed another wardrobe for one of their B&B bedrooms. ‘I can’t ask people to pay to sleep in that bedroom any longer because the wardrobe is falling to bits.’ She’d said this several times over the summer, but Zack had put off doing anything about it. However, by chance she’d caught sight of an advert in the
Culworth Gazette
.
Smart French style single wardrobe for sale. Good condition, coloured ivory
. £25
Buyer takes away
. The phone number was a Little Derehams one.

‘It sounds ideal, very stylish too, I should imagine. Better than that awful dark-brown thing of ours. Shall I ring up and we’ll go and have a look? What do you think? After all, we’re not obliged to buy it, are we?’

With nothing better to do, Zack agreed; he liked the price tag of twenty-five pounds. So they rang up and found the address was the one that had been the old pub that had been bought and converted into a house.

The lady with the wardrobe for sale was very well dressed, much more so than anyone Marie thought they would be dealing with. She took them upstairs to see the wardrobe, and on the landing they came across the man who purported to be her husband.

Marie was delighted by the French wardrobe. It was ivory in colour, like it said in the advert, and it would brighten up that bedroom no end. It was in good condition too, stylish and, best of all, it didn’t need anything doing to it. ‘I’m having all new built-in wardrobes fitted and they’re coming Monday to start work so I want this out of the way as soon as possible.’ So they paid the money over and agreed that at the weekend they’d come with some transport and collect it.

The husband, who smelled as though he hadn’t had a wash, let alone a shower, for days, volunteered to help get the wardrobe down the stairs and out of the door when they came.

‘Well,’ said Zack, ‘that would be very kind indeed. See you Saturday morning about eleven, will that be convenient?’ It was. So that was agreed.

‘Funny that,’ said Marie on the way home, who’d learned a lot about people since they’d started doing the B&B, ‘The house is beautiful, the furniture and all that, and so’s she; but he’s too scruffy for words. He just doesn’t fit in, does he, how he looks? He’s too well-spoken to be in such scruffy clothes. It’s almost as if he’s playing a part in a play. Looking unkempt on purpose, kind of. I mean they’ve got money somewhere, taking into consideration the house and the furniture and all that, and her. But you wouldn’t think so to look at him. There’s a reason, believe me.’

Zack scoffed at her theory. ‘For heaven’s sake, Marie, you do get some daft ideas.’

‘It’s true. I’m pleased with the wardrobe though. I’m taking a hammer to our blinking wardrobe when I get home. It’s all it’s fit for. We’ll save the wood for Bonfire Night up at the big house. Sir Johnny says it’s definitely on.’

Marie didn’t go with Zack to collect the wardrobe as she’d promised to do a turn helping at the Saturday coffee morning in the church hall. She couldn’t believe it when Zack wasn’t home at one o’clock when she got back. It was two-thirty before he finally appeared with the wardrobe, and he was drunk like he hadn’t been in years. So was Barry Jones who’d agreed to give him a hand seeing as Zack had no van, but the lady had generously given them the bedside table that matched the wardrobe, and so Marie really couldn’t complain. The old brown bedside table joined the smashed-up wardrobe on the pile waiting for Bonfire Night, and the B&B bedroom looked stunning.

When Zack finally became coherent round about six o’clock, he explained what had happened. ‘The minute we walked in he offered us a drink. Barry thought he meant a cup of tea but he didn’t, he meant
drink
as in alcohol. You should have seen his cocktail cabinet, stuffed it was,
stuffed
with quality drink. We could have whatever we wanted and more. Barry said no he wouldn’t because he was driving, but Baz insisted.’

‘Baz?’

‘That’s her husband’s name. Baz. We got talking, a right talker he is. He’s had a very interesting life, he has: market trader like Del Boy on the telly. He’s dabbled in just about everything, and you won’t believe this, but he asked us if ever we wanted some extra money to let him know and he could make good use of us and Barry’s van. Just the right size, he said. Well, of course, Barry’s saving up for a big holiday for Pat and ’im next year, and he jumped at the chance. I wasn’t too sure, but Barry gave me a nudge and so I said, yes, OK. By the way, Pat doesn’t know yet about the holiday, it’s a big surprise for her, so don’t say a word.’

‘All right. All right. But what are you doing, and when? Barry’s not so free as you are, you know, he has a five-day week to put in.’

‘Evenings it’ll be, and weekends. I said not Sundays as I’m needed at the church, and Baz agreed. Not Sundays, he said. So it might not come off, but it could. Anything to eat tonight? I’m starving.’

‘So he didn’t say what it was?’

‘No.’

‘Is he just as scruffy as when we saw him?’

‘Yes, he is. Now where’s my food? I’ve had no lunch, yer know.’

Further than that Zack was not prepared to go. If he revealed to Marie that him and Barry with his van, helping Baz, were to be rewarded for a few hours’ work with more money than Zach earned in a month as verger, then she definitely would put a stop to it and he wasn’t having that. Because, let’s be honest, it must be something illegal to be paying that kind of money for a few hours’ labour. Somewhere right at the back of Zach’s mind he remembered a casual mention of scrap metal and lead, but he couldn’t quite remember if he was right, being drunk at the time. He should never have agreed to drinking that special whisky as he lost count after three; it went straight to his head. Nor could he remember giving Baz his phone number, but he must have done because one week to the day of collecting the wardrobe the phone rang halfway through the morning. Marie had three B&B guests and had just finished clearing up after their late breakfast when Zack told her he’d had a call from Baz.

‘When?’

‘When what?’

‘When does he want you?’

‘Ten o’clock.’ Zack neglected to mention he meant 10 p.m.

‘Oh. I wanted to go to the market this morning and the bus will have already gone.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘You’ll be late, does Barry know?’

‘Ten tonight.’ Zack girded himself for Marie’s response.

Marie instantly knew it was something illegal. ‘
Tonight?
Oh, Zack. Please don’t go. I told you he was a wrong ’un. I knew it. Please, I’ll ring Pat and tell her, then you won’t have the van.’

Zack sprang to life. ‘You won’t, you’ve not to. And for once in your life you do as I say.’

‘Well, I never have before, so I don’t see why I should start now.’

‘If I have to tie you to the bed before I go, I am
going
.’

‘Oh, Zack!’

‘I am. Not another word. You know nothing, and that’s the way it will stay. I’m not a complete fool, you know. Just leave it with me.’

They spent a stormy Saturday, kind of speaking but not speaking all day, and Marie was glad when it was half-past nine and she heard Barry tap softly on the back door. That was significant in itself coming to the back door as everyone used the front door because that was the easiest, seeing the way round the house was built.

Marie asked Barry, ‘Will you need a torch?’

‘Good idea.’

Marie went back to watching TV, but she couldn’t settle and decided she’d read in bed for a bit. She dropped asleep about midnight with the light on and the book still in her hand, and never even heard Zack creep gently into bed about half-past two. If she’d been awake she’d have seen the big grin on his face, a weary grin but full of satisfaction. He smiled at the thought that Marie had been right about Baz; he was playing a part. Zack would have a great tale to tell the rector. Zack, exhausted, fell asleep in seconds.

‘You see, rector, it’s complicated to explain. It all began when Marie and me went to buy a secondhand wardrobe for one of our B and B bedrooms.’

Peter could tell immediately this story was going to take a long time to tell so he settled himself on his study sofa and awaited enlightenment. By the time Zack was explaining about Baz and his need for new clothes and a very essential bath, Peter was intrigued.

‘They sat on the floor of the van in the back ’cos Barry’s van only has three seats and Baz and me and Barry were sitting in those. When we picked ’em up they had a huge collapsible ladder with ’em, and Baz gave them a hand to put it in the back of the van so they had to squeeze in the back with it, and there wasn’t much room for ’em. Baz talked to ’em as though they were bosom pals; but Baz had told Barry and me not to speak, so we didn’t join in.’

‘Did you know any of them? Were they from round here?’

‘I thought I knew one of them. I think he’s the chap who helps out sometimes in the petrol station on the by-pass, stacking shelves and that. But I could be wrong. Anyway we trundled on till we arrived in Compton Tester of all places. A more dead-alive place you are unlikely to find anywhere in the world. We pulled up, pitch black it was ’cos there was no moon, no street lighting like we haven’t got, and sat waiting. There wasn’t a leaf stirring, never mind any people; they’ve no pub, yer see. We sat and sat, not right outside the church like, more to one side but with the church in view. No one spoke ’cos Baz had said don’t. The bedroom lights started going out, one by one till all the light we had was the eyes of a white cat crossing the road, dead spit of our Kitty.

‘Then he said “Right!” and slipped out quiet as quiet, and stood in the road listening. We opened the van doors and took out Baz’s huge ladder. Barry helped him like, and the other two men got out and we all walked over to the church and believe it or believe it not they put the ladder up against the church wall and the two chaps we’d picked up started climbing up onto the roof, and then Baz he went up, but he told us to wait at the bottom of the ladder and watch for them coming back down with the
lead
. Well, I couldn’t believe it, there I was taking part in a theft. I’ve got it all wrong I thought.