Chapter 4
Late in the afternoon, Jamie loaded up the van with the collected garden waste. He’d find a recycling centre on the way home.
“All done,” he said to Mr Langford from the back door. “I’ll be off now unless there’s anything else I can do for you?”
“No.” He came and looked outside. “That all looks good, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Dad,” Heather said from the kitchen table. “Why not get Jamie to have a look at the banister rail on the landing?”
“It’s fine,” Edward said. “Just a bit wobbly.”
“It scares me every time Mum’s up there. She puts her whole weight on the rail. If it gives way, she could break her neck.”
“It won’t give way,” Edward said. “But I’ll have a look at it later.”
“You said that last week and you didn’t get round to it. Jamie just asked if there’s anything else to be done.”
“I think he was being polite,” Edward said, as though Jamie wasn’t right there. “He’s been working in the garden all day. I’m quite sure he wants to get home.”
“I don’t mind having a look,” Jamie said.
Edward gave a quick shake of his head. “It’s really not necessary.”
“Please do,” Heather said, standing and gesturing for him to come in.
Jamie looked at Mr Langford, who shrugged in resignation.
“Don’t worry about your shoes,” Heather said when Jamie dithered on the mat. He wiped them well and followed her through the house and up the stairs.
“Look,” Heather said, wobbling the rail that ran along the landing. “That’s dangerous, isn’t it?”
“It’s definitely loose.” Glancing over the drop to the hall made his stomach lurch and he took a small step back.
He crouched down, looking under the rail to see how it was held in place.
“There’s a bracket securing the rail to the wall at this side,” he said, “and another over here at the post. The screws just need tightening.”
“Do you have time to do it now?” Heather asked. “If not, could you come back tomorrow? I’d really like this fixed as soon as possible. I swear it’s a death trap.”
“I can have a go now,” Jamie said. “I’ll grab my toolbox.”
“You can use mine,” Edward said, appearing with his shiny blue toolbox in his hand. “I have to say I’m a little embarrassed now. It’s an easy job and I should have done it myself. I don’t know why I kept putting it off.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jamie said.
Edward rolled his eyes. “It would have been cheaper to do it myself as well.”
“Dad!” Heather snapped, then flashed Jamie an apologetic smile.
“If I can do it in less than fifteen minutes,” Jamie said, “I won’t charge you.” Briefly, he wondered if giving out freebies was an appropriate way to run someone else’s business, then remembered Moira saying she always offered a personal service and tried to go the extra mile.
“Thanks,” Edward said.
He and his daughter went back downstairs and Jamie rooted in the toolbox.
As it was, it only took a few minutes to tighten up the screws.
He pushed hard against the rail, checking it was safe, then checked the stair banister too.
Descending the stairs with the toolbox in his hand, he spotted Mrs Langford in the living room, reclined gracefully on the couch with a pair of bulky headphones on.
She didn’t notice Jamie and he made for the kitchen where Heather and Edward were sitting at the table.
“All done,” he said, setting the toolbox down. “It’s completely sturdy now.”
“Thank you so much,” Heather said.
“Edward!” Marguerite’s voice rang from the front room. “There’s a thief at the door.”
Mr Langford rolled his eyes but lifted from his seat. “Thanks very much,” he said, offering Jamie his hand. “You’ll email the bill, like Moira does, I assume?”
“Yes.” He smiled as the doorbell chimed. “It’ll actually be Moira who sends the bill still.”
“Lovely,” he replied distractedly. “Why don’t you see yourself out the back way. Thank you again.” He looked at his daughter. “Weren’t you going to pop to the shops?”
“Yes.”
Edward scratched his throat. “Don’t be too long, though. I’m going to that meeting at the community centre this evening.”
“I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be here to help Mum get to bed.”
“Thank you.” He glanced nervously at the front door.
Heather picked up her handbag and followed Jamie out of the back door just as the doorbell rang for a second time.
“Thanks for fixing the banister,” she said again as they walked the path down the side of the house. “It’s been bothering me.”
“It was an easy fix.”
“I hope Mum wasn’t bothering you too much when you were gardening.”
Jamie shook his head, thinking back on the odd conversation about Heather wanting her inheritance. “It was fine.”
“She can be a little eccentric,” she said, glancing at the front door which had just closed, presumably behind whoever had been ringing the bell.
“She used to be an actress. Did a lot of theatre work. Always had a flair for the dramatic, and I know she can be pretty quirky sometimes. People don’t know how to take her. ”
“She seemed very sweet,” he said, lingering outside the van, his attention drawn to the house and the raised voices which drifted out. One of them clearly Mr Langford’s.
Heather let out a sigh.
“Why did your mum say there was a thief at the door?” Jamie asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“I’m sure you’ll think it’s a madhouse here,” Heather said, looking defeatedly at the house.
“My parents had to let their cleaner go a few weeks ago. Mum had some jewellery go missing and she was convinced it was Petra. She couldn’t prove it, but obviously they didn’t feel comfortable having her in the house so they let her go.
A few days ago she called saying she was owed money.
It seems she also thinks she should get some sort of severance since they didn’t give her any notice.
And she’s complaining that they’ve caused emotional damage and harmed her employment opportunities by accusing her of stealing. ”
Jamie grimaced. “Sounds stressful.”
“I think she’s got a cheek trying to get more money out of them,” Heather went on. “And they never said anything about her stealing to anyone else. They wouldn’t gossip about someone like that. Especially when there’s no proof.”
“Was she officially employed?”
“No. It was all under the table so she really has got no recourse.” She stared at the front door. The house had fallen silent. “My dad will no doubt give her money just to get rid of her. That’s why he didn’t want me around – I’d have told her where to go!”
“I think I’m with you on that one,” he said. “Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
Her eyes went to the side of the van and a smile pulled at her lips.
“It’s Moira’s,” Jamie said, shifting his weight. “And when she told me about the job, she neglected to mention this . . .” He waved a hand at the bright logo and cheeky tagline.
“It always amuses me when Moira’s driving around, but I think it’s even funnier with you driving it.” Her eyes lit up with her full-watt smile. “So you’re a handy lass, are you?” Her Scottish accent became suddenly more pronounced.
He shook his head, but amusement stretched his lips to a smile. “I only hope I’ve done a decent job,” he joked, deciding the best way to deal with the teasing was with a bit of self-deprecation. “What with me being a man and all.”
Heather laughed gently. “Moira’s a hoot.”
“I’ve never met her in person,” Jamie said. “Just on a video call.”
“Is it strange staying in someone’s house when you’ve never met them?”
“Yes. Very. It feels like an invasion of privacy . . . like I’m an intruder.”
“Is it a nice house? I’ve never been inside.”
“It’s lovely. Very homely.”
“That’s how I’d imagine it. Moira’s such a warm person.”
“I should get going.” He pointed at the van. “Do you need a lift?” he asked again, since she hadn’t answered the first time.
She held his gaze for a moment. “I’m fine,” she said after a beat. “I’ve got my car. Thanks, though.”
He smiled and walked around to get in the van, then paused, distracted by more raised voices from the Langford house. When it fell quiet again, he stepped up into the driver’s seat and turned the engine on.
The drama with the cleaner was like a real-life soap opera.
It was only a shame he’d never know how things worked out.