Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
‘I really don’t like this,’ said Lark, trembling.
‘I’d suggest it’s likely to be Mr Thurston knocking at the door, come to see if we’re done,’ Nate said. ‘But he’s got a key, and I got the impression he wouldn’t be back here again.’
‘I can see why.’ Lark wouldn’t be sorry if she never set foot in the cottage ever again.
‘Lark! Nate!’ came a voice from the other side of the door, followed by another round of knocking.
‘Jasmine!’ Lark couldn’t remember feeling so happy to hear the familiar tones of her friend. Tension fell away from her shoulders as she rushed over and flung the door open. ‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.’
‘If that’s the case, what the bloomin’ ’eck took you so long?
It’s brass monkey out here! I’m nithered!
’ Jasmine beamed at her friend before giving a theatrical shiver.
She was bundled up well against the wintry weather in a bright green padded jacket, a stripy scarf wrapped several times around her neck and a matching hat pulled over her ears.
‘Sorry, Jazz, come in.’ Lark couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s faux put-out expression.
‘Now then, Jazz,’ said Nate, smiling at her. ‘Mind, I’m not so sure it’s much warmer in here.’
After stamping her feet to get the snow off her wellies, Jasmine took a few steps into the living room and shuddered.
‘Brr! I see what you mean, it’s like a fridge in here.
Has a weird atmosphere, too.’ She swept her gaze around the room.
‘Oh, and I nearly forgot, are you aware there’s a peacock on the roof? ’
‘A peacock?’ Lark looked at Nate askance. Had she heard right? ‘I didn’t notice one when we got here, did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Can’t say I did. And how come it’s managed to get onto the roof? I thought they usually had their wings clipped to stop them from flying off.’
‘Well, this one’s flying feathers are clearly all intact which I reckon is why it’s currently perched on the chimney pot to this place.’ Jasmine chuckled.
As if on cue, an ethereal cry travelled down the chimney and filled the room.
‘It was the peacock!’ Lark and Nate said in unison before falling about laughing.
‘Have I missed something?’ asked Jasmine, glancing between them. The reason for their amusement slowly dawned on her. ‘Don’t tell me you thought it was a ghost?’ she said, her hoots of laughter joining theirs.
After a quick discussion, the three of them managed to ascertain that the bird belonged to a new resident of Old Micklewick who’d brought it with them from their previous home that had benefitted from a much bigger outside space.
It had been wreaking havoc in the nearby back yards and gardens ever since.
‘They used to eat peacock in Tudor times, didn’t they?’ said Jasmine.
‘I believe they did,’ said Lark.
‘That bird wants to watch out then. If it ruffles any more feathers – pun intended – it might find itself stuffed and roasted.’
‘Don’t mess with our Jazz.’ Lark chuckled.
Jasmine flashed a jokey grin. ‘So, folks, one of the reasons I’m here is to let you know that Skitey Bank’s been ploughed and gritted, though I guess you already know that since I spotted Nate’s van parked at the end of the lane – unless you stayed over at Lark’s, Nate?
’ Jasmine gave a playful waggle of her eyebrows.
Lark replied with a good-natured roll of her eyes.
‘I spent the night in my own home,’ said Nate. ‘Headed down here as soon as I saw the roads had been cleared.’
‘Ah, right, if you say so.’ Mischief twinkled in Jasmine’s bright green eyes.
‘It’s true!’ said Lark, her non-verbals telling Jasmine to stop this right now! She could feel the heat of a blush rise up her neck and spread over her face.
‘It’s none of my business, flower.’ Jasmine flashed her a cheeky grin.
‘Anyroad, the other reason is to have a quick nosy round here. I’ve always wondered what this place was like.
Mags said you were heading here this morning and since I had a birthday cake to drop off, I thought I might as well pop in and say a quick hello. ’
Jasmine was a much-in-demand celebration cake maker. Not only did she work freelance, but she was also contracted to make wedding cakes for the Danskelfe Castle wedding packages – a luxury wedding destination near Lytell Stangdale on the North Yorkshire Moors. It was a role she loved.
‘I’m glad you did pop in or we’d never have known it was a peacock making the spooky sounds,’ Lark said, chuckling. ‘I was just about ready to make a run for it.’
The three of them had congregated in the living room after showing Jasmine around the cottage, and were just about to turn their attention to the suitcase when Jasmine’s mobile started ringing. She fished it from her jacket pocket and groaned as she looked at the screen.
‘Why would school be calling me at half past nine in the morning? The kids have only just got there.’
Lark pressed her mouth into a sympathetic smile. She knew her friend would be worried about Zak and Chloe after her children had experienced a bout of bullying earlier in the year.
Jasmine took the call, Lark and Nate looking on to see relief washing over their friend’s face as she listened.
Ending the call, Jasmine puffed out her cheeks. ‘I need to head off. The school’s heating’s on the blink so they’re having to close for the day. Can’t imagine how gutted the kids are going to be about that.’ She gave a chuckle, pushing her phone back into her pocket.
‘Looks like a day of sledging, snowman building and snowball fights is on the cards,’ Nate said.
‘Hmm. The secretary just told me they’ll have to do some lessons online, but I’d like to think they’ll get the chance to have a bit of fun outside, like we did when we were kids and had snow days. Remember that dim and distant time before computers took over the world and spoilt everyone’s fun?’
‘Can’t say I do, to be honest,’ said Nate.
‘Right then, I’d best head off and get the kids. See you later, folks.’ Jasmine bid them goodbye and hurried off.
With Jasmine’s bubbly personality gone, the room quickly took on its strange air once more.
Lark and Nate turned their attention back to the case and, in particular, the tin.
Lark looked on, the feeling of unease making itself known once more as Nate reached in and lifted out the pistol she’d wrapped back up in the oily cloth.
‘Wow! This is an original, and it’s seriously old,’ he said.
‘I’m certainly no expert, but looking at the elaborate metalwork, I’d say it belonged to someone wealthy.
And there’s a set of initials here.’ He squinted, heading over to the window, examining the firearm more closely in the light. ‘“J.W.F.”.’
‘James William Fitzgilbert,’ said Lark, excitement suddenly thrumming through her and pushing her disquiet aside. ‘He’s the wealthy man who was in league with the smugglers. You do realise this is a serious piece of Micklewick Bay history, don’t you?’
‘I do. And the burning question is, what’s it doing here, in what’s very possibly Jacob Crayke’s cottage?’
‘That’s a very good question. If I recall from local legend, the two of them had a particularly vicious falling out, though I can’t remember the reason.’ The detail on the pistol made Lark more determined to speak to the curator of the local heritage centre, see what she could learn from her.
‘I remember reading somewhere that there were rumours Fitzgilbert had turned double agent and was accused of tipping off the local excise men when a ship full of contraband was due to land.’
‘That does ring a bell actually,’ said Lark, the implication of Nate’s words swirling around her mind. ‘And if it’s true, then I wonder what happened to him?’
‘Something tells me he disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’ Lark echoed his words, catching his eye.
‘Aye, in suspicious circumstances.’
A loud clatter of metal hitting stone made them both start and they turned to see the pewter tankard from the case lying on the floor. It had seemingly fallen from where Nate had placed it on the small table.
‘How the heck did that happen?’ he said, his face paling.
‘I don’t know about you, but I get the feeling this house is trying to tell us something.
’ Lark looked around her, uneasy, that same strange feeling from yesterday building in the air around them once more.
She pushed her hands into the pockets of her coat and took the pieces of malachite crystal in her hands, squeezing tightly.
‘Oh, I’d say it very definitely is.’ Nate wrapped the pistol in the stained cloth and placed it back in the suitcase, before reaching for the tankard. ‘I reckon we should gather everything together and get done here ASAP.’
‘Agreed, but if it’s okay with you, I’d feel happier if I did a bit of sage burning before we leave, get rid of as much negative energy as we can, that way it won’t cling to us.’
‘Suits me. After what’s been happening here this morning, I don’t fancy having any of that negative stuff lingering on me.’ Though he chuckled, Lark could tell he was serious.