Read Online The Black Book of Secrets by F E Higgins - Free Book Online
Authors: F E Higgins
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stick and walked across the road
to Jeremiah’s, where she had lived and worked for the last
six years.
‘It’s not as bad as you might think,’ said Polly. ‘As long
as I do what I’m supposed to then he can’t complain overmuch.’
But Polly always looked tired and hungry andLudlow almost felt guilty that he worked for Joe, Jeremiah’s
complete opposite.
‘It was better when Stanton Cleaver was around,’ Polly
told him one day.
‘Stanton Cleaver?’ asked Ludlow.
‘The butcher’s father. When I first came to Jeremiah’s,
he and Stanton use to eat together nearly every night of the
week. It gave me some peace.’
‘What happened to him?’ asked Ludlow.
‘He had a bad heart, at least that’s what Dr Mouldered
said, and he died very suddenly. They buried him so quickly
no one even saw the body. Everyone thought Stanton was a
great man but I’m not so sure. He treated Horatio, his son,
really badly. Anyway, after Stanton died Jeremiah didn’t
have any more friends in the village, so he started gambling
in the City. He’s still at it and I never know if he’s going to
come in late or early, but whatever the time, he’s always
drunk.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t understand why you left the
City to come to this place, stuck out here in the middle of
nowhere. Was it really that bad?’
‘It’s much worse than I told you,’ said Ludlow grimly.
‘You’d hate it, Poll. It’s full of all sorts of nastiness.’
‘Some people say that you left the City because youcommitted a crime,’ said Polly. ‘They think you’re on the
run.’
Ludlow frowned. ‘Let them think what they want.’
‘And what about Joe?’ she persisted. ‘Where did he
come from?’
Ludlow shrugged. The few times he had asked, Joe had
avoided the question very successfully. Ludlow did not actually
know very much about his new master. Even in the
exotic stories he told to the Sourdough brothers Joe somehow
managed to give little away.
‘Anyway,’ said Polly with a grin, ‘no matter. He’s got
Jeremiah in a proper lather. You should hear how he curses
the pair of you. One day he really will explode!’
Whatever Jeremiah Ratchet thought of Joe and Ludlow, the
villagers made good use of the pawnshop. True, they owned
little of any great value, but, unlike most pawnbrokers, Joe
took everything he was offered, even the most ridiculous
and worthless items – a moth-eaten, slightly mouldy stuffed
cat being one such example – and paid good money as he
promised. Ludlow could not imagine even Lembart Jellico
accepting such a pledge.
As most customers came in wheezing after climbing the
hill, Joe instructed that a chair be set by the door and it was
gratefully received. Ludlow watched them from behind the
counter, gasping and coughing and complaining. Eventually
the noise would subside and they would come over to show
whatever sorry item they had brought. Joe would hold it up
to the light and turn it this way and that. Sometimes (but
very rarely) he would take out his jeweller’s glass and examine
the object close up. All the while the customer stood by
hardly breathing, fists closed and white-knuckled, hoping
that Joe would take the useless object. He did of course and
they were all grateful, immensely so, and thanked Joe profusely.
Often that was the end of business and they would
back out of the door still saying thank you. But sometimes
the person hung on, hopping from one foot to the other,
pretending to be interested in Saluki.
Eventually Joe would turn around and ask quite innocently,
‘Is there anything else?’ The hint of a smile danced
at the corner of his mouth.
Invariably they would talk about Jeremiah Ratchet.
‘You must be a brave fellow, Mr Zabbidou. There’s not
many would stand up to Jeremiah.’
They were referring to that first day when Joe had daredto disagree with Mr Ratchet. It had made a great impression
upon the villagers.
Joe’s response was always the same. ‘I simply stated
to Jeremiah’s, where she had lived and worked for the last
six years.
‘It’s not as bad as you might think,’ said Polly. ‘As long
as I do what I’m supposed to then he can’t complain overmuch.’
But Polly always looked tired and hungry andLudlow almost felt guilty that he worked for Joe, Jeremiah’s
complete opposite.
‘It was better when Stanton Cleaver was around,’ Polly
told him one day.
‘Stanton Cleaver?’ asked Ludlow.
‘The butcher’s father. When I first came to Jeremiah’s,
he and Stanton use to eat together nearly every night of the
week. It gave me some peace.’
‘What happened to him?’ asked Ludlow.
‘He had a bad heart, at least that’s what Dr Mouldered
said, and he died very suddenly. They buried him so quickly
no one even saw the body. Everyone thought Stanton was a
great man but I’m not so sure. He treated Horatio, his son,
really badly. Anyway, after Stanton died Jeremiah didn’t
have any more friends in the village, so he started gambling
in the City. He’s still at it and I never know if he’s going to
come in late or early, but whatever the time, he’s always
drunk.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t understand why you left the
City to come to this place, stuck out here in the middle of
nowhere. Was it really that bad?’
‘It’s much worse than I told you,’ said Ludlow grimly.
‘You’d hate it, Poll. It’s full of all sorts of nastiness.’
‘Some people say that you left the City because youcommitted a crime,’ said Polly. ‘They think you’re on the
run.’
Ludlow frowned. ‘Let them think what they want.’
‘And what about Joe?’ she persisted. ‘Where did he
come from?’
Ludlow shrugged. The few times he had asked, Joe had
avoided the question very successfully. Ludlow did not actually
know very much about his new master. Even in the
exotic stories he told to the Sourdough brothers Joe somehow
managed to give little away.
‘Anyway,’ said Polly with a grin, ‘no matter. He’s got
Jeremiah in a proper lather. You should hear how he curses
the pair of you. One day he really will explode!’
Whatever Jeremiah Ratchet thought of Joe and Ludlow, the
villagers made good use of the pawnshop. True, they owned
little of any great value, but, unlike most pawnbrokers, Joe
took everything he was offered, even the most ridiculous
and worthless items – a moth-eaten, slightly mouldy stuffed
cat being one such example – and paid good money as he
promised. Ludlow could not imagine even Lembart Jellico
accepting such a pledge.
As most customers came in wheezing after climbing the
hill, Joe instructed that a chair be set by the door and it was
gratefully received. Ludlow watched them from behind the
counter, gasping and coughing and complaining. Eventually
the noise would subside and they would come over to show
whatever sorry item they had brought. Joe would hold it up
to the light and turn it this way and that. Sometimes (but
very rarely) he would take out his jeweller’s glass and examine
the object close up. All the while the customer stood by
hardly breathing, fists closed and white-knuckled, hoping
that Joe would take the useless object. He did of course and
they were all grateful, immensely so, and thanked Joe profusely.
Often that was the end of business and they would
back out of the door still saying thank you. But sometimes
the person hung on, hopping from one foot to the other,
pretending to be interested in Saluki.
Eventually Joe would turn around and ask quite innocently,
‘Is there anything else?’ The hint of a smile danced
at the corner of his mouth.
Invariably they would talk about Jeremiah Ratchet.
‘You must be a brave fellow, Mr Zabbidou. There’s not
many would stand up to Jeremiah.’
They were referring to that first day when Joe had daredto disagree with Mr Ratchet. It had made a great impression
upon the villagers.
Joe’s response was always the same. ‘I simply stated
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