Chapter 22
The next morning, Leo awoke to the sound of hammering at the front door.
He looked at his watch – half past eight already.
He’d intended to be up hours before but he’d slept very badly for the last few nights.
Leo had been sleeping on one of the sofas since Jess returned, as it didn’t seem fair turning Harry out of his bed; it was handy to be in prime position for making sure everyone was safe but every little noise tended to wake him up and the sofa in question had quite a few elderly springs that stuck into unexpected places.
Sitting up in his vantage point, Leo could tell that Harry and Nina were still tucked away in their new state of bliss and that Mab’s door was also firmly closed.
He had vaguely heard Stan, Jess and George go out earlier on some mission of their own, possibly to do with tropical fish.
They had done a lot of annoying giggling, shushing each other noisily as they tiptoed past his temporary bed, and he hadn’t noticed them return, so there was obviously no one but Leo to answer the door.
Where was his enormous family when he needed them?
Grumbling to himself, Leo pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, and staggered down the stairs.
He opened the door onto the street, and was amazed to see five large men wearing fluorescent jackets and heavy-duty overalls.
The biggest and most belligerent-looking of the group stepped forward.
‘Mr Leonardo Lamb?’
‘Yes?’
‘Here about yer vermin, mate.’
Leo frowned. By this time a small knot of passers-by had gathered to see what the fuss was about, and through the middle of the crowd emerged Edward Crabtree. He was unshaven and pale, but raised a smile when he saw Leo.
‘Well, good morning, Mr Lamb. I see the jungle drums have been busy.’
‘Oh, naff off. You’ve done enough, as far as I can see.’
Edward shuffled his feet. ‘Leo, look, this is nothing to do with me, I just wanted to make sure you knew that.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Leo rolled his eyes heavenwards.
Several of the people on the street avoided looking at him as he opened the door wider, and invited his visitors in, with a fulsome show of hospitality.
Once inside, they became efficient and organised, unpacking a variety of tools and recording instruments to help them in their task.
Against his better judgement, Leo offered tea and biscuits, and they all accepted happily.
As he gave them carte blanche to examine the downstairs premises, Leo reflected that the day could only get better. As it happened, he was wrong.
Waiting for the kettle to boil, Leo decided to bite the bullet and phone Sophie.
He knew that she was having a few days off and so would be likely to be at her parents’ house in Darras Hall.
The family lived in splendour in a detached mini-palace with lions on the gateposts and a kidney-shaped swimming pool in the garden.
Sophie’s father had a chain of tanning salons scattered over Tyneside, all equally successful.
The one that Sophie managed was in the heart of the city – she liked to keep a finger on the pulse, she said, and Leo knew that her life blood was shopping.
Leo picked up the phone and dialled the number that he’d known off by heart for the past two years.
Eventually, it was answered by Katriona, the family cleaning lady who was well known for having the patience of a saint.
‘’Ello? ’Ello?’ she muttered. ‘I no hear you…’
‘Katriona, it’s me, Leo.’
‘Oh, Leo, long time since we see you, how it all going?’
‘Fine, thanks, but is Sophie there?’
There was a pause, as Katriona formulated her next sentence.
‘She no here, Leo, she gone.’
‘Gone? Gone where? I thought she was having some time with her mum and dad this week?’
‘No, they gone too, gone Ten’rife, to the villa. The boss say he need “down time”.’
‘He need what?’ Katriona’s way of speech was catching, thought Leo.
‘I don’ know what it mean? But they gone, Leo, for sure.’
‘But what about Sophie… she hasn’t gone to Ten’rife, I mean Tenerife, has she?’
‘Oh, no, Miss Sophie, she got other fish to fry.’
Katriona stopped, seeming to suddenly realise that she was talking to Sophie’s fiancé.
Leo thought about this, Sophie often took off with her extremely irritating friends at a moment’s notice.
Sometimes they booked into a spa for a few days’ pampering, other times they would book a last-minute city break on the Internet and jet off to Palma, or Rome, or Nice.
‘So, where’s she gone this time, Katriona?’
‘Not sure. Packed all in a hurry las’ night. Taxi came, picked her up ’bout ten.’
‘Were any of the others there? Shanice? Cassandra?’
‘No, jus’ Miss Sophie in the cab. She left a right ol’ mess, Leo. Took me bes’ part of an hour to put it right.’
Katriona sighed. Leo thanked her and rang off, puzzled.
He hadn’t had much communication with Sophie since she had left with his brothers, but had assumed that she was busy at work.
Why hadn’t she told him that she was going away?
He rang her mobile, but it switched to answer phone almost immediately.
Hating to speak to a machine, Leo thought quickly.
‘Soph, it’s me, where are you? Things are going badly here, need to talk to you… call me?’
He decided to telephone Den to see if his brother could throw any light on the situation.
After five rings, Den’s answer phone kicked in too, and the familiar voice of his older brother said, in a terrible cod-Irish accent, ‘Oim not in, oim out’ (this was a direct rip off of their local priest’s answering machine’s message, and had always been a family joke) ‘leave yer message after da tone…’
Frustrated, Leo declined to leave a message and dialled his old home number.
Surely Josh or Alex would know what was going on?
Alex answered quite quickly, to Leo’s relief; at least someone was around.
He was beginning to think that the entire community of Geordies had left a sign up somewhere saying ‘Gone fishing’.
‘Good morning, Lamb Signing, Alex speaking, how can I help you?’
‘Alex, mate, at last, someone’s answering!’
‘Leo? What’s up? Problems?’ Alex had never wasted words.
‘Oh, God, don’t ask. How long have you got? First of all, do you know where Sophie is?’
‘Sophie? No, not seen her since we dropped her off after we were with you. Think Den’s seen her though, have you tried him?’
‘No one’s in at Den’s. Has he got a new woman in tow?’
Alex pondered for a moment. ‘Well, now I come to think of it, Den has been fairly elusive lately. He’s taken on a complicated job in Morpeth. A fleet of vans needed signing quickly, and Den seemed only too pleased to be out of the city for a while.’
‘That’s not like him, is it? The only other time he left town for any length of time was when he got into hot water with that lady from Glasgow and her husband appeared suddenly.’
Alex explained that Den’s defection had left him in sole charge of the business, but that Josh was proving to be an enormous asset, so they were keeping on top of things, just. He’d taken on some hired help, and was beginning to think that he could cope with the family firm if he had to, but it was hard to have so little time to paint.
‘Yes, I bet,’ said Leo, holding on to his patience with difficulty. ‘So you’re saying you’ve actually got no idea where he is, apart from somewhere in Morpeth?’
‘No, but he’s just busy working, I reckon, mate. Not seen him with a woman for months, so I don’t think there’s a lady behind him jumping at the chance to get away. He seemed a bit taken with Mab, I thought. Doesn’t she know where he is?’
Leo thought murderous thoughts. If his brother had set his sights on Mab, Leo would surely have no chance.
Den had always had supreme confidence with women.
Leo remembered a slim, freckled girl from Alnwick, long ago, who had loved him madly until Den came along and turned her head with his Triumph Convertible and his habit of producing cheap champagne at the drop of a hat.
But then he thought of Sophie too, and knew that he needed to talk to her before he even considered a serious relationship with Mab. And that was not a comforting thought.
* * *
Leo wandered from room to room, starting various jobs but unable to finish anything.
Waiting for the verdict from the council was immensely frustrating, especially as no one could decide where the trouble-making report had come from, and why it had happened in the first place.
He had also had a worrying telephone call from his bank manager, who had seen the letter in the paper and was concerned about his investment.
‘I appreciate your concern, Mr Jones, but I can assure you that our problems will be sorted out very quickly, once the council representatives realise that there have never been vermin on our premises,’ explained Leo, rather desperately.
‘Vermin? I wasn’t aware of that. So when do you anticipate beginning to repay some of the capital on your loan, Mr Lamb?
I only ask because you led us to believe that your business would be up and running very shortly, and now there seems to be no prospect of trading at all.
I’ve also heard that you are having problems with your suppliers.
This is not a good start, Mr Lamb, not a good start at all. ’
Leo took a deep breath, cursing himself for mentioning the vermin. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?
‘Look, Mr Jones, as soon as the council lift this ridiculous ban on our trading, we’ll have the opening party organised, the publicity in place, and it’ll be all systems go.
The temporary problem with suppliers is sorted for the time being (although I can’t imagine how you heard about that) so the shop should be open by…
oh… the end of next week at the latest,’ he said, with a good deal more confidence than he felt.
Putting the phone down rather more forcefully that he meant to, Leo began yet another circuit of the flat.
He knew he was getting under everyone’s feet; he could see them exchanging glances each time he spoke, but the only person he seemed to be able to tolerate today was George, who was fretful because his injuries were causing him pain and who needed a lot of distraction.
After lunch, the two of them settled down at the table to gloat over catalogues of water filters, strange little plastic replica castles and bridges, gravel and other delights.
George was determined that the fish tank in the shop would be the biggest and the best in town.
It should have multi-coloured angel fish, tiny bright neons, guppies, and as many other fantastically patterned tropical creatures as he could persuade Leo to buy.
There must be twists of coral, lighting that set off his treasures to the best advantage, and an efficient filter system to keep them all healthy and happy.
‘We can’t be mean about the fish money, Leo,’ said George, slapping another Post-it note on a page in the catalogue and writing ‘Suckermouth Catfish – senshul’.
‘What’s a senshul?’ asked Leo, mentally adding up the massive amount that George had spent so far.
‘Doh! You know. When you have to have something – it’s senshul,’ answered George, wondering why grown-ups sometimes seemed so stupid.
‘Oh, right, and is this clown loach senshul too, then?’
‘Yep, they’re fun to watch, and they eat stuff you don’t want… I think…’
‘What about all these glowlight tetras? This tank’s going to be a bit crowded if we’re not careful, mate.’
‘Told you we should have ordered a bigger one.’
‘George, there wasn’t a bigger one. This is the absolute biggest we could get. It’ll nearly fill the wall as you come into the shop. And it’s due to be delivered later today anyway, so it’s too late to change the order.’
‘Wicked! It’s the first thing the customers’ll see. It’ll put them in the right mood to buy the books, you just wait.’
Somehow, Leo couldn’t help believing these words of wisdom.
George’s other ideas had been excellent so far too.
He’d suggested that he drew pictures of some of the items on the café menu, and that they should frame and mount them for the shop walls.
Leo was worried about this one. In his experience, children’s drawings had to look very na?ve and simple to work as wall displays.
He hadn’t banked on this boy’s style though, and when he saw George’s bold, confident pastels of knickerbocker glories, rainbow-coloured cupcakes and chocolate gateaux oozing with cream, he realised that they had an advertising miracle on their hands.
Who would be able to resist trying all these wonderful creations?
The designs were unique, and quirky enough to grace the most sophisticated shop in the country.
George basked in Leo’s approval, and when the moment came to go out and buy the fish, he set off with Leo and Stan looking unusually happy and excited.
‘George, behave yourself, won’t you?’ shouted Jess as they left. ‘Leo and Stan have both got my mobile number, so no funny business. And the doctors said to be careful, you’re still healing, remember.’
‘He’ll be fine, won’t you, mate?’ said Stan. ‘You just concentrate on getting that chocolate brownie recipe off pat. The last lot were a bit on the chewy side.’
He ducked as Jess threw a tea towel at him, and the three of them clattered down the stairs, just as the phone began to ring.