The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(83)

“Damn door is stuck.” He heard a man’s voice and another rattle of the lock.

He looked around him. The chair was still wedged under the door.

“I can’t get the bleedin’ door open,” he heard.

There was no response so he figured that the man must be speaking to himself. He heard footsteps moving away and the muffled sound of a doorbell as the man tried a neighbor.

Arthur swept the chair away and then scanned the apartment. He had to get out of here. But how? He moved swiftly to the window. He saw that the drop must be at least ten feet. He would surely snap his ankles. But there was no other way out. All he could do was jump, hide or leave the way he came. The man’s wardrobe was a tiny Victorian thing. He couldn’t cram himself inside that, and how would he cope if he broke both of his legs from the jump?

There was only one way left...

Slowly opening the door, he half expected to come eye to eye with Mike’s neighbor. If he was capable of stealing a watch and all the loot in his apartment, then what else might he do? He opened the door by a few inches and peered out. At the end of the corridor the man stood. He wore a dirty string vest over too-big trousers. His hair was matted and dyed black. If Arthur left now, then the man would surely see him. He cursed himself for even having this madcap idea. He should have left Mike to sort out his own battles. But even so he was glad to have the Rolex stashed in his pocket. He stepped quickly into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him. The click wasn’t loud enough for the man to hear. Arthur’s heart thumped. Badum, badum. It seemed so loud he was surprised that no one else could hear it.

He walked speedily away in the opposite direction.

“Hey!” a man’s voice shouted after him. “Wait.”

Arthur speeded up. He could see the exit door now, just a few more strides and he would be out of here. “Hey!” The shout came again and he could hear footsteps quickening behind him. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, mate.”

Arthur turned around. The man handed him the plastic lid of his ice cream box. “I think you dropped this.”

“Thanks.” He was still carrying his box of tricks. The lock picks lay on the top. “I didn’t realize I dropped it.”

“No probs.” The man was about to move away. “Are those lock picks?” he said.

Arthur looked down and nodded. “Yes.” He waited for the punch in the nose, or for his arm to be grabbed as the man marched him to his apartment.

“Great. I’m locked out of my flat. Can you let me in?”

Arthur swallowed. “I can try.”

He made the job look more difficult than it was. He wriggled a pick in the lock. He huffed and puffed. Finally he opened the door. “Fantastic. I’ll make you a brew,” the man said. “To say thanks.”

Arthur recalled Mike saying the man seemed like a charmer until you knew he was a thief. “That’s fine,” he said. “I really must be off.”

As he left the flat he was sure he heard the man muttering to himself, asking why the chair wasn’t where he left it.

He considered writing a note or posting through some money, but he knew how proud Mike was. Instead, he lifted Mike’s letterbox and pushed the watch through. The small thud it made when it landed on the doormat gave him a feeling of satisfaction like no other.





Journey’s End?


“FACTOR FORTY?” LUCY SAID, reading off her checklist.

“Yes,” Arthur replied.

“Lip balm?”

“Check.”

“Does it have an SPF?”

Arthur picked up the navy blue stick and peered at the small white writing. “Yes. Factor fifteen.”

“Hmm,” Lucy said. “You could do with a higher one.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see what I’ve got in my makeup bag.”

“It’s fine. I have been on holiday before, you know.”

“Not anywhere as far, or as hot,” Lucy said firmly. “I do not want a phone call telling me that you have sunstroke.”

Arthur changed the subject. “Did you go to the cinema with Terry?”

Lucy smiled. “We had a lovely time. We’re going for a meal on Friday, to that new restaurant in town. He absolutely loves kids, too,” she added.

Arthur had asked Terry to keep an eye on the house. “Frederica likes watering first thing in the morning so she has moisture for the full day.”

“You’ve told me five times,” Terry said. “And I will switch your lights on every night and close your curtains so that people will think you’re still at home.”

“Good. And if ever you want me to look out for the tortoise, that’s fine.” Really, he had no idea what he would do with the little fella, but he felt good for offering.

“Have you packed your sunglasses?” Lucy started again.

“Yes.”

“Hold on. Are those the ones you wore when I was little?”

“I’ve only ever had one pair. They’re quality ones. Tortoiseshell.” He put them on.

“I suppose they’re quite fashionable again now.”

Arthur flipped the lid on his suitcase shut. “I have everything. If I’ve forgotten anything I can pick it up at the airport.”