The Keeper of Lost Things(50)

Edna nodded.

“Your husband passed . . . eight years ago. He had a pain, here.” Sister Ruby clutched at her chest with her free hand. Ted had died of a heart attack on the way home from the pub. Family flowers only, but donations, if desired, to the British Heart Foundation. Sister Ruby tipped Edna’s hand this way and that, as though she were trying to decipher a particularly complex message.

“You are worried about your home,” she finally announced.

“You want to stay, but someone wants you to leave. It’s a man. Is it your son? No.” She peered closely at Edna’s hand and then leaned back and closed her eyes as though trying to picture the man in question. Suddenly she sat bolt upright and slapped her hands flat on the table.

“He is a businessman! He wants to buy your house!”

Over a second cup of tea and a newly opened packet of Bourbons, Edna told Sister Ruby all about Julius Winsgrave; property developer, entrepreneur, and sleazy, greedy gobshite (except she didn’t use the word “gobshite” what with Ruby being a sister and all). He had been trying to get her to sell for years, having bought most of the other houses in the street and made a killing on them. In the end, his bullyboy tactics had forced David to consult his solicitor and take out an injunction against Julius to prevent any further harassment. But Edna always felt the threat of him circling above like a vulture, waiting for her to die. Sister Ruby listened carefully.

“He sounds like a bad and dangerous man.”

She reached down and picked up her capacious, well-used handbag and began rifling through its contents.

“I have something here that can definitely help you.”

She placed on the table a small, flat piece of wood in the shape of the front of a house. It was crudely painted with four windows and a blue front door. The same color as Edna’s.

“What number is your house please?” Sister Ruby asked.

“Thirty-two.”

Sister ruby took a pen from her bag and drew a large “32” on the front door of the house.

“Now,” she said, “this is the most powerful Juju and it will protect you as long as you do exactly as I say.”

She held the house tightly in both hands and closed her eyes. Her lips worked furiously in silent incantation for several minutes before she finally placed the house in the center of the kitchen table.

“Here it must stay,” she said decisively. “This is the center of your home and from here it will protect you. But you must know that now this house” she said, pointing to the wooden model, “has become your house. All the while you keep it safe, so too will your house be safe. But if you allow harm to come to it, the same and more will come to the bricks and mortar around you; whether it be fire, water, breaking, whatever. Nothing can undo the magic and nothing can undo the curse.”

Edna looked at the little wooden house and wondered if it could really protect her from Julius Winsgrave. Well, it certainly couldn’t do any harm to try it. Sister Ruby took her cup and saucer to the sink, and despite Edna’s protests, washed them thoroughly before setting them on the draining board to dry. As Edna turned her back to put the biscuits in their tin, Sister Ruby shook a wet hand over the wooden house and three drops of water splashed onto its painted facade.

“There now,” she said, picking up her bag, “I’ve taken up quite enough of your time.”

Edna was searching for her purse, but Sister Ruby refused to take any payment for her services.

“It was a pleasure chatting with you,” she said as she made her way toward the front door.

As the makeup came off, the face in the mirror grew younger. Under the fat curls of the wig was black hair, ironed straight. In jeans, boots, and a leopard-print coat, Sister Ruby disappeared into Simone Le Salle. She checked her designer watch and grabbed her designer bag. At the restaurant, Julius was already waiting; drumming his fingers impatiently on the immaculate linen tablecloth.

“Champagne, please,” she told the passing waiter in confident Estuary English.

Julius raised his eyebrows.

“Do you deserve it?”

Simone smiled.

“What do you think?” she said. “It went like clockwork. My boy went this morning and sorted the stopcock. As luck would have it, the bathroom was directly above the kitchen.”

She checked her watch again.

“The kitchen ceiling should be down by now.”

Julius smiled.

“Mother and son make a good team.”

He pushed a fat, brown envelope across the table. Simone checked the contents and then slid it into her bag. The waiter brought the champagne and filled both their glasses. Julius made the toast.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

After seeing Sister Ruby out, Edna went for a little lie-down on the sofa. Two visitors in one day were lovely but a little tiring. When she woke about an hour later it was raining. In the kitchen. The wooden house on the table was soaked. The paint had run and the windows had all but washed away, but the number 32 was still plainly visible. Edna looked up and saw a dark patch creeping horribly across the ceiling. The last thing she heard was the groan of lathe and plaster surrendering.

“Okay! Okay! I surrender.” Laura stroked the warm head that had been gently butting her knee for the last five minutes. Carrot was hungry and he needed a wee. It was long past lunchtime. Laura surveyed the sea of objects dotted with gold stars in front of her on the table and then checked her watch. It was nearly three o’clock.