Authors: Elizabeth Oldfield
‘Must be off to my next client,’ Max declared, and he went, as well.
‘If that crew made you feel as if you came out of the Ark, they did the same to me,’ I told Tina.
‘And me,’ Jenny said.
Tina looked at us. ‘Honest?’
‘Honest,’ Jenny confirmed. ‘Though I don’t think they were being deliberately hurtful, it was more a case of them just not thinking. You don’t when you’re their age.’ She shrugged, then went on. ‘But you’re slim and blonde, Tina, so you should worry, whereas I’m overweight and have cellulite and my hair is going grey and –’
‘Why don’t you tint your hair?’ Tina suggested. ‘Tint it yourself. For years I’ve gone to a salon in Knightsbridge, but I can’t afford it now so I bought hair colour from the chemist and used it at home and –’ she flicked her ponytail ‘– it’s great.’
Jenny considered the idea, then nodded. ‘I’ll try it,’ she said, and asked for the product name. ‘Though we shouldn’t feel down about getting older. Winston Churchill didn’t become Prime Minister until he was sixty-five and Sarah Bernhardt –’
‘Who?’ Tina enquired.
‘Sarah Bernhardt, she was a French actress who lived around the turn of the last century. She played Juliet in ‘Romeo and Juliet’ when she was seventy.’
I grimaced. ‘Sounds like a sight for sore eyes.’
‘Maybe she was a bit ancient,’ Jenny conceded, ‘but the point is, she did it.’
‘The experienced woman can be a potent sex symbol,’ I said, rallying to her argument. ‘Who do you remember in the film
The Graduate,
the seductive Mrs Robinson or her dishwater daughter? And any number of older women have posed in the nude for, say, a W.I. calendar or on the cover of
The Radio Times.
’
Tina giggled. ‘You reckon I should do that?’
‘I reckon you could. And I reckon you should have another shot at modelling, with your clothes on.’
She looked doubtful. ‘Well –’
‘I agree,’ Jenny said. ‘People who are positive about ageing live on average 7.5 years longer than those who complain about the passing years.’
‘Duncan was always positive, but it didn’t help him,’ Tina said, and frowned. ‘I ought to empty his wardrobes and clear out his clothes, his shoes, the gorgeous cashmere coat I bought him for Christmas, but what do I do with them? And what do I do with his books, his shaving mug, the magnifying glass he used to use? Putting everything out for the refuse lorry seems heartless and such a waste.’
‘Your charity shop takes men’s clothes, doesn’t it?’ I said to Jenny.
‘Yes, so long as they’re in good condition. We take books, too. And if you have items we’re unable to help with, I can tell you of other places which might accept them.’
‘Would you? Thanks,’ Tina said gratefully. ‘Suppose you take a quick look at the clothes and everything now, then you can see what I’m talking about.’
Jenny nodded. ‘Okay.’
As they set off up the stairs, I went with them. I had yet to see anything in the house which appeared to be of saleable value, but perhaps I would spot something that belonged to Tina – another gift from her husband – which she could turn into cash.
The main bedroom was large and, as elsewhere, the furniture was well-worn and the furnishings drab. Halfway along one wall, a door stood open. As Tina started to show Jenny the clothes in a huge, old-fashioned wardrobe, I pushed the door wider and walked into an adjoining room.
I smiled. This was one place in the house which had been renovated. Pale built-in closets filled three walls, while on the window wall was a long, low dressing-table unit with knee-hole seat, make-up mirrors and, at one end, a full length mirror. The array of cosmetics, anti-ageing creams and a box of ‘facial vibrating pads’ indicated that this was Tina’s dressing room.
A couple of closet doors were open. Inside the first, trouser suits, day dresses and evening dresses hung on a long rail; each in pristine condition and protected by polythene covers. The second closet had been sectioned off into shelves. The three highest shelves were stacked with handbags, again looking new and carefully wrapped, while the lower ones held shoes; high heels in many different colours, strappy sandals, mules, including what could be the beaded pair which Tina had so recently bought. When I looked closer, I saw that the shoes bore names such as Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik.
There is a shop in Dursleigh which deals in ‘pre-loved’ clothes, so long as they are in good-as-new condition, up-market and top quality. We’re talking Jaeger, Basler and designer labels – M&S or C&A don’t get a look in. You take your garment along and, if it meets the criteria, agree a price and when it is sold, receive half the profit. Duncan’s cashmere coat sounded a suitable candidate and I was thinking I would suggest to Tina that she could sell some footwear, handbags and clothes – instead of buying more – when I heard a squeal.
‘That’s fantastic!’ Tina cried, and, a moment later, she squealed again. ‘Another!’
When I went back through to the bedroom to investigate, she was excitedly waving a roll of banknotes in each hand.
‘Look what Jenny’s found. They were tucked inside a pair of Duncan’s brogues, brogues he hadn’t worn for years.’
‘Tucked up into the toes,’ Jenny explained. ‘I only came across them by chance.’
‘All the notes are fifties and there are twenty in each roll, which means two thousand pounds,’ Tina said, beaming. ‘That’ll keep me going for a while.’
‘There could be more,’ I said.
‘You think so?’
‘I do. As soon as Duncan spent one wad of notes, he started on another,’ I said, remembering. ‘Yes?’
‘Always.’
‘But where did he get the cash? He didn’t have much in the bank, so isn’t it possible he kept it hidden at home?’
Tina looked thoughtful. ‘I guess.’
‘Why don’t we have a blitz,’ I suggested, ‘and go through every single pocket in his jackets, coats, cardigans and trousers? Every pair of shoes and slippers?’
‘Good idea,’ Jenny said.
‘His underwear, too,’ Tina added. ‘I’ll check his thermal vests, his Y-fronts. Okay, girls, let’s get cracking.’
Jenny and I went to the old-fashioned wardrobe which was filled with suits, blazers and heavier winter wear, while Tina started on drawers in a tallboy.
‘Eureka!’ I exclaimed, a few minutes later. In the zipped pocket of a faded blue anorak was another roll of fifty pound notes.
We had returned to our labours when Jenny found another, fitted into the collar of a rainjacket which contained the hood. Both rolls were put onto the bed.
‘Success!’ Tina crowed, producing a further roll from the back of a drawer where it had been lying beneath a jumble of socks. ‘Duncan was a sly old dog,’ she said, as we continued to search. ‘I asked him once where he got all his ready cash – I mean, he never used chargecards – and he told me he’d made it a habit to take cash every week from the tills in his shops. He didn’t take much, but over the years it added up. And it was money which escaped the tax man.’
‘But his masterstroke could’ve been when he sold his shops,’ I said.
Tina looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘Well, I can’t say for certain if this is true, but there was a rumour that he did a deal with the Patels. It was reckoned that each time he sold them a shop he agreed to a lower asking price, so far as the solicitors and the tax man were concerned, which meant the Patels didn’t have to pay so much in stamp duty. But it was on the understanding they gave him the difference to the true value in cash, which they were happy to do.’
‘I never took much notice when Duncan talked about financial matters, my brain’s not geared that way,’ Tina said, ‘but I remember him laughing about how he and the Patels had had ‘a good thing going’, so the rumour could’ve been correct.’
‘And Duncan wouldn’t have wanted to put the cash into the bank where it would’ve been visible,’ I reasoned, ‘so he kept it at home. Like here.’
The roll of notes I produced came from inside the split satin lining of an ancient dinner jacket.
Over the next quarter of an hour, the three of us continued to search and by the end of that time nineteen rolls of banknotes lay on the bed. Each roll consisted of twenty fifties which meant the total came to nineteen thousand pounds.
‘Where are you going to keep all this?’ Jenny asked.
Tina sucked in her lower lip. ‘Don’t know.’
‘Do you have a safe?’ I enquired.
‘No. And I’d prefer not to take it to the bank because, who knows, my crappy stepsons could find out I have it and demand a share.’
‘Why not put the money in the drawer, underneath all the socks?’ Jenny suggested. ‘Presumably it’s been in the bedroom for years and not come to any harm.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Tina decided.
‘Duncan could’ve hidden cash in other places,’ I said. ‘In a desk or a cloakroom, even in the garage. You should check.’ I looked at my watch. ‘I must go.’
‘Me, too,’ said Jenny.
‘Thank you both so much,’ Tina said, following us as we made our way down the stairs. ‘If Jenny hadn’t come across the money in the shoes and if you hadn’t suggested there could be more, Carol, I may never have found it. But now I’m rich! And now I want to pay for the work-outs for you both for the next six months.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s kind, but there’s no need.’
‘None,’ said Jenny.
‘I’m paying,’ Tina insisted. ‘I’ll square things with Max so from now until – make it the end of the year – your work-outs are free.’
Jenny and I looked at each other. It was clear Tina would not be dissuaded.
‘Thank you very much,’ we said.
‘And I shall tell Max I’m paying for my work-outs and I don’t want the terrible trio back here on Thursday, or ever again.’
Jenny and I grinned. ‘Thanks,’ we repeated.
That evening on my way home from work, I took a detour to the Bridgemont flats.
‘You’re elusive,’ I said to my father, as we drank our cups of tea. ‘I rang yesterday and three times today, but there was no reply.’
‘I was out with Dilys. We went down to the coast on Monday and into London today.’ He sank lower into the sofa. ‘I’m bushed.’
‘You bought her an engagement ring?’ I enquired.
His head shot up. ‘Wherever did you get that idea?’
‘Well, on Sunday Dilys hinted that things between you could be… becoming serious.’
‘And that’s why you’ve been telephoning me?’
‘I – um, I wondered what the score was.’
‘Things are not serious, but if they ever should be I will let you know. When I’m good and ready. In my own sweet time. Without any prodding.’
‘Yes, Dad,’ I said meekly. I was being reprimanded, told to mind my own business.
‘What did you think of William?’ he asked.
‘I only met him for five minutes, but he seemed nice enough. I believe Dilys also has a daughter.’
‘Yes, she’s a real beauty according to Dilys, though I’ve never seen her. She hasn’t been to Bridgemont so far as I know. William can’t be short of a bob or two,’ he continued. ‘He’s given his mother a diamond and gold bracelet. Magnificent thing, must have cost a fortune. He’s told her to keep it covered if she goes out wearing it, to stop her getting mugged.’