Read Online A Fool and His Money by Marina Pascoe - Free Book Online Page B

Anne felt shaky and sat to finish her tea. She took a biscuit from the tin but after only a small bite threw it down on the table. She wished her sisters would hurry up. She didn’t like being alone here now.
    Bartlett and Boase finished putting everything back into their newly painted office, including Boase’s recently acquired swivel chair, which he ceremoniously placed behind his desk with a satisfied grin. Bartlett stared at him.
    â€˜Are you just going to stare at it, or actually sit in it to do some work?’
    â€˜Well, sir, much as I’d love to sit in my new chair, I was thinking about going back to the circus to see if I could speak to anyone else – I’m sure there’s something obvious we’ve missed. I need to know about Aitchinson. I’ve asked Penhaligon again if he can remember anything else but he says everything the man said to him, he wrote down. I thought, if it’s all right with you, I’d go up there and then go straight home – unless you need me to come back?’
    â€˜Well, no, and I haven’t got any better ideas. I’ve got to go up and see Greet in a minute or two, so if you think you’ll be more use doing that, then you go ahead.’
    â€˜Righto, sir. I’ll just finish this piece of cake and I’ll be on my way.’
    Boase didn’t go straight to the recreation ground. Instead he went into the town. He never took a proper break but he thought he’d have half an hour now so that he could collect a gift he’d reserved for Irene, just to remind her that he loved her. He walked through the streets until he came to Bendix and Hall, the jewellers in Arwenack Street. He entered and waited his turn. There was a rather stout woman in front of him.
    â€˜Mr Bosustow – this is not up to the usual high quality service my husband and I have come to expect from you. Now, did I tell you that my husband bought this ring from Hatton Garden – that’s in London you know – especially for our fortieth wedding anniversary? That is tomorrow. I expected to have this alteration done by today and now you tell me it is not ready. I am very distressed, Mr Bosustow. Very distressed indeed.’
    Boase smiled and felt rather sorry as Mr Bosustow drew himself up to his full height of about five feet six inches and addressed the woman looming over him.
    â€˜Mrs de Vere, in the first place, quite obviously, I know where Hatton Garden is. Madam, I am a jeweller. In the second place, I told you perfectly well that your ring would be altered and ready for collection tomorrow. May I have your receipt docket please?’
    Mrs de Vere rummaged through a voluminous handbag and presented the man with a yellow slip of paper. He unfolded it and held it up in front of her face and said merely one word.
    â€˜Look.’
    Mrs de Vere did indeed look and now began to speak very quickly.
    â€˜Well, of course, you see it’s your dreadful handwriting; shocking, that’s what it is.’
    â€˜Maybe your eyesight is not what it used to be, madam. I also would not have told you to collect today as I only have two repair days each week. Now, if you would like to return tomorrow, you may collect your ring at nine o’clock, if that would suit?’
    Mrs de Vere was now reversing out of the shop and bumped into Boase who had been looking at some watches in a cabinet. He touched his hat. She made a small attempt at a curtsy and left the shop. Quentin Bosustow brushed the front of his coat and returned to his place behind the counter.
    â€˜Good day, Mr Boase. How are you?’
    â€˜Good afternoon, Mr Bosustow, looks like you had your hands full there.’
    â€˜Well, Mrs de Vere is a very good customer and has been for more years than I care to remember. However, she can be, shall we say, just a little trying.’
    Boase smiled.
    â€˜Have you come to collect your necklace?’
    â€˜Yes, please. This is really very