The Keeper of Lost Things(26)
“Good morning, Rossini, my friend”—it was their little joke—“you’ll be wanting your breakfast, I suppose.”
He hopped into the kitchen behind her and waited patiently for her to take a handful of raisins from a tin on the draining board.
“What will you do without me?” she asked as she threw a couple onto the kitchen floor. The bird gobbled them up and looked to her for more.
“Outside now, my friend,” she said, scattering the rest of the raisins onto the doorstep.
She took her tea back into the sitting room, making precarious progress with a single stick, and gingerly lowered herself into her chair. The room was full of pretty things; weird and wonderful baubles and ornaments. Eulalia had been a magpie all her life, surrounding herself with sparkle and glister, twinkle and velvet, the magical and the macabre. But now the time had come to let them go. These were her treasures and she would decide their fate. She couldn’t take them with her, but neither could she bear the thought of her precious things being picked over by a white van driver called Dave—“House Clearances—no job too big or small.” Besides, some of the things could get her into trouble. Some of the things weren’t exactly . . . legal. Well, not here, anyway. There were skeletons in her cupboards. Truly.
By the time she had filled her tartan shopping trolley with the chosen objects, it was almost midday. Her ratchety limbs, lubricated by activity, moved more freely now as she headed toward the public gardens by the park. She would give her things away. She would leave them where others would find them; as many things as she had been able to drag in her trolley. And as for the rest, no one would have them. It was a school day and the park and gardens were deserted save for a couple of dog walkers and a poor unfortunate soul still asleep in the bandstand. Eulalia was unobserved as she placed four snow globes, a rabbit’s skull, and a gold pocket watch on the little wall that encircled the ornamental fountain. Farther into the park, two silver church candlesticks, a stuffed weasel, and a set of gold-plated dentures were secreted in the niches of the war memorial statue. A mummified pig’s penis and the ormolu music box from Paris were left on the steps by the pond, and the china bride doll with empty eye sockets on the seat of one of the children’s swings. Back in the gardens the crystal ball wallowed in a stone birdbath and the bowler hat with a cockade of crow’s feathers was perched on top of the sundial. The ebony cursing bowl was placed at the foot of a sycamore tree whose leaves were a molten kaleidoscope of scarlet, orange, and yellow. And so she continued until, almost emptied, the trolley bounced along behind her on skittish wheels. She sat down on the wooden bench facing the park and breathed a sigh of contentment. A job well done—almost. The final item on the wooden slats beside her was a bone china cup and saucer painted with gold and violets. It rattled in the aftershock of an explosion two streets away that killed a postman and seriously injured a passerby. A thick pall of smoke smudged a dark column into the afternoon sky and Eulalia smiled as she remembered that she had left the gas on.
“Put the gas on under the kettle, tea to the teapot, milk to the jug.”
Back in the kitchen Laura smiled as Sunshine talked herself through the tea making as she always did with any task that required concentration. There was a knock at the back door, and without waiting for a reply, Freddy came in. Laura had spoken to him the night before to let him know that his job was still there if he wanted it, and to invite him for tea in the kitchen, rather than drinking it alone in the garden as he usually did. He had been away since the funeral, and when he had left, the situation at Padua had still been uncertain.
She had surprised herself by issuing the invitation, but reasoned that the more often she came into contact with him, the less flustered she might be when she did. Because she couldn’t help but find him rather increasingly attractive.
“Two sugars, please,” he said, winking at Sunshine. She blushed deeply and found something fascinating to look at on the teaspoon she was holding. Laura knew how she felt. There was something intriguing about this laconic man who tended the garden with such care, and did odd jobs around the place with quiet efficiency. Laura had learned scarcely anything about his life away from Padua; he gave so little away and she hadn’t yet found the courage to ask. But she was building up to it, she promised herself. The only information he seemed to require was what needed doing, and were there any biscuits.
“Freddy, this is Sunshine, my new friend and assistant. Sunshine, this is Freddy.”
Sunshine tore her gaze away from the teaspoon and tried to look Freddy in the eye.
“Hi, Sunshine. How’s it going?”
“How’s what going? I’m nineteen and I’m dancing drome.”
Freddy smiled.
“I’m thirty-five and three-quarters and Capricorn.”
Sunshine placed a cup of tea in front of Freddy and then the milk jug and sugar bowl. Then a teaspoon and a plate of biscuits. And then a fork, a bottle of washing-up liquid, a packet of cornflakes, and an egg whisk. And a box of matches. Freddy’s slow smile split his handsome face, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. The smile burgeoned into a deep, throaty laugh. Whatever it was, he had passed Sunshine’s test. She sat down next to him.
“St. Anthony has left all the lost things to Laura and we have to get them back at the right people. Except the cup and saucer.”
“Is that right?”