A December to Remember (30)
“Block his number,” she said without preamble. “And get your number changed. Fresh start.” She made a shooing motion at Star. “Come on, in you go, you’re heating up the whole village.”
Star gave a small smile and turned into the shop, followed by her sisters.
12
“Right, first things first. Wine. Let’s find some glasses,” said Simone, holding up the blue plastic bag containing the wine bottles. “We can rinse them out in the kitchenette. Second thing, what the hell was all that out there?”
Star swung her arms out from her sides and puffed out her cheeks in a gesture of flummoxed exasperation. “He just doesn’t seem to get the message. I don’t know how to make it any clearer for him.”
“A restraining order?” Simone suggested. “What would have happened if we hadn’t come along?”
“I’d have called the police. Or someone else would.”
“And what if he’d got to you before they arrived?”
“He’s not violent. Not to other people and never to me.” She saw the incredulous looks from her sisters and added, “I know he has a temper; he shouts his mouth off and throws things, but the only person Stu ever hurts is himself.”
“I don’t know whether to believe you.” Simone was shaking her head.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Simone’s head snapped up, and Maggie prepared to get between them as mediator, but to her surprise, Simone said, almost defeatedly, “I know you didn’t have anything to do with the robbery.”
“Oh.” Star looked as taken aback as Maggie felt. “Thank you.”
“Promise me you have detached yourself from Stu once and for all. No going back because you feel sorry for him and no being charmed by his romantic histrionics; I know what you’re like about wounded animals.”
Star quailed beneath Simone’s head-teacher tone. “I promise,” she said in a small voice.
A moment followed during which any normal sisters would have hugged and broken the tension, but Star and Simone stood awkwardly like a couple of wallflowers at a school disco.
“Okay, let’s find those glasses, shall we?” Maggie chivied. Baby steps, she thought.
Star managed to find two glasses hiding in the shelves, a pale pink champagne flute and an ornately cut crystal goblet. Maggie spotted an etched wineglass, yellowed with dust, and extracted it from an old shoebox filled with metal toy soldiers. Her eye fell upon a wicker basket full of tarnished cutlery and kitchen utensils, and she rummaged around until she found a corkscrew. She also found a red Monopoly house, which she held aloft with the corkscrew, standing on tiptoes and waving to be seen over the top of a shelving unit.
“Now we’re talking,” said Simone. “Bring it over.”
Maggie sidled down a skinny aisle and joined her sisters at a mahogany sideboard on which the cash register—an antique in its own right—sat, dusty and sad looking.
With glasses thoroughly washed and wine poured, they began their search in earnest. Maggie had compiled a list of things Augustus had been fond of—though this wasn’t easy since he seemed delighted by almost everything—and they used this as a rough guide of where they might focus their attention.
Star dusted off the gramophone, and soon the shop was filled with the tinny crackle of old jazz. Simone positioned the Calor gas heater in front of the sideboard and after a few minutes a gentle heat slowly wended its way along the aisles, warming the merchandise and awakening fragrances of old book bindings and beeswax polish. They worked as methodically as possible in the chaos, taking an aisle each, starting at the end nearest the front door and working slowly down. Their thematic approach to the search was short-lived as the sheer farrago of stuff overwhelmed them. Every trinket box was shaken, every watch, ring, and jewelry box was opened. Vases were tipped out and knickknacks rifled through. Artemis had a habit of leering unexpectedly out from the shelves or jumping up to inspect what they were doing. Maggie thought the cat gravitated toward whichever of them was about to find a house, but she dismissed the idea as nonsense.
As they worked, they called out the names of unusual items found.
“Ceremonial tribal staff!”
“Didgeridoo!”
“Victorian clockwork bird in a cage.”
“China figurine of man sitting on a chamber pot!”
“An actual chamber pot!”
At the end of each aisle, they would refill their wineglasses before disappearing back into the mountains of jumble. Each Monopoly house they discovered received a cheer and a celebratory wine top-up.
By the time they had scoured the shelves, their hands were grey with dirt and dust and they were all three drunk as farts. It was eleven o’clock and even through her wine haze, Maggie was aware she would regret drinking when she got up at five tomorrow morning to receive the egg shipment. They had found twenty-six more Monopoly houses, which they added to the four they had found yesterday, making thirty. Only two more to find and they would have access to the ledger, which would help Duncan, the handsome knitting Sotheby’s appraiser, make sense of the vintage mess.
“Where haven’t we looked?” asked Simone.
“Ooh, the till!” yipped Star.
“You always loved that till.” Maggie laughed. “You used to stand on a chair to play with it.”