Read Online Charlie by Lesley Pearse - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lesley Pearse
Tags: Fiction, Contemporary
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possible to get a scholarship she wouldn’t want to face the other girls’ pity. She certainly had no intention of going to the comprehensive. She’d heard those common girls who went there calling her ‘Chinky Charlie’ behind her back. If she was suddenly flung in there they’d probably say worse.
The tears gradually dried up and she lay there sniffing. It was almost half past two and she knew she must get back to the Mellings’ before long. But first she had to find the things Mr Wyatt spoke of. Right now she didn’t really want anything of her father’s, but then she and her mother might need the money from them later on. If she didn’t do it today she might never get another chance.
The gilt-framed miniatures were where they’d always been, on either side of the bureau in the small sitting room. Six in all, of old-fashioned ladies. It had never occurred to her before that they were valuable, but Mr Wyatt obviously knew best. She took them down and put them on a tray. Next she moved into the drawing room and unlocked the glass cabinet. She knew the twelve small jade animals were good ones, her father wouldn’t have had them in the house otherwise. There were four small silver photograph frames, all containing pictures of herself from two until ten. She would take those too.
It became harder after that. Her mother liked trinkets and there were many small things which might be valuable but more likely were not. She took a tiny enamelled snuff-box, a couple of old, small porcelain figurines and a collection of minute silver animals.
She wondered where the bulk of the treasures in this house would end up. Jin had often mentioned that the Chinese lacquered cabinet decorated with birds was worth a fortune. The Oriental rugs on the floor were exceptionally fine ones. It struck her as ironic that these things she’d always been so casual about suddenly seemed so dear to her. She bitterly resented that someone else would own them one day, while she and her mother had nothing.
Upstairs in her mother’s jewellery box there were few pieces of any real value. Her good things were kept in a velvet roll tucked into a secret place in the wall. Jin had made the hidey-hole himself. She remembered him chipping out a brick and making a little box to put in its place. When the room was wallpapered next time it was almost completely invisible but for a tiny plastic tag.
She pulled at the tag and the box slid out. To her surprise and delight the red velvet jewellery roll was still there, along with a wad of banknotes beneath it as well. At a quick count there was nearly £200. Inside the roll were all the pieces she remembered her father giving to her mother for birthdays and Christmas, a gold linked necklace, a gold snake bracelet, diamond earrings and a platinum and diamond brooch were safely intact. There was a gold cocktail watch with tiny rubies marking the hours too, and two pairs of antique earrings, one set with emeralds, the other with pearls. She had always liked to put these on herself as a little girl because they were clip-on ones; Sylvia had hardly ever worn them because she said they were too grand for most parties in Dartmouth.
As Charlie tapped the empty box back, she wondered how many years would pass before anyone found it. She couldn’t imagine a new owner hurrying to strip off the beautiful cream silk wallpaper.
Downstairs she found a strong, square plastic cake box in one of the kitchen cupboards. Wrapping each item in a tissue first, then in a plastic sandwich bag, she finally packed all the goods, including the money, into the box. They fitted well, and once the lid was back on, she sealed it round with sellotape and tied it up tightly with string.
After locking the front door, it suddenly occurred to her that it would be folly to take the box of treasures back to the Mellings’, someone was bound to ask what was in it. For a moment or two she considered hiding it in the garden. But on further
The tears gradually dried up and she lay there sniffing. It was almost half past two and she knew she must get back to the Mellings’ before long. But first she had to find the things Mr Wyatt spoke of. Right now she didn’t really want anything of her father’s, but then she and her mother might need the money from them later on. If she didn’t do it today she might never get another chance.
The gilt-framed miniatures were where they’d always been, on either side of the bureau in the small sitting room. Six in all, of old-fashioned ladies. It had never occurred to her before that they were valuable, but Mr Wyatt obviously knew best. She took them down and put them on a tray. Next she moved into the drawing room and unlocked the glass cabinet. She knew the twelve small jade animals were good ones, her father wouldn’t have had them in the house otherwise. There were four small silver photograph frames, all containing pictures of herself from two until ten. She would take those too.
It became harder after that. Her mother liked trinkets and there were many small things which might be valuable but more likely were not. She took a tiny enamelled snuff-box, a couple of old, small porcelain figurines and a collection of minute silver animals.
She wondered where the bulk of the treasures in this house would end up. Jin had often mentioned that the Chinese lacquered cabinet decorated with birds was worth a fortune. The Oriental rugs on the floor were exceptionally fine ones. It struck her as ironic that these things she’d always been so casual about suddenly seemed so dear to her. She bitterly resented that someone else would own them one day, while she and her mother had nothing.
Upstairs in her mother’s jewellery box there were few pieces of any real value. Her good things were kept in a velvet roll tucked into a secret place in the wall. Jin had made the hidey-hole himself. She remembered him chipping out a brick and making a little box to put in its place. When the room was wallpapered next time it was almost completely invisible but for a tiny plastic tag.
She pulled at the tag and the box slid out. To her surprise and delight the red velvet jewellery roll was still there, along with a wad of banknotes beneath it as well. At a quick count there was nearly £200. Inside the roll were all the pieces she remembered her father giving to her mother for birthdays and Christmas, a gold linked necklace, a gold snake bracelet, diamond earrings and a platinum and diamond brooch were safely intact. There was a gold cocktail watch with tiny rubies marking the hours too, and two pairs of antique earrings, one set with emeralds, the other with pearls. She had always liked to put these on herself as a little girl because they were clip-on ones; Sylvia had hardly ever worn them because she said they were too grand for most parties in Dartmouth.
As Charlie tapped the empty box back, she wondered how many years would pass before anyone found it. She couldn’t imagine a new owner hurrying to strip off the beautiful cream silk wallpaper.
Downstairs she found a strong, square plastic cake box in one of the kitchen cupboards. Wrapping each item in a tissue first, then in a plastic sandwich bag, she finally packed all the goods, including the money, into the box. They fitted well, and once the lid was back on, she sealed it round with sellotape and tied it up tightly with string.
After locking the front door, it suddenly occurred to her that it would be folly to take the box of treasures back to the Mellings’, someone was bound to ask what was in it. For a moment or two she considered hiding it in the garden. But on further
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