The Mudlarkers’ Club

Chapter 25

Whenever Gemma visited another hospital, she found it hard not to slip into nursing mode.

She was overcome with an overwhelming urge to read the patient’s chart at the end of the bed, check their vitals, administer pain relief.

Seeing Timothy with his arm in a sling and his leg in a cast, raised on pillows, looking pale and spent, made Gemma want to swing into action, even if orthopaedics wasn’t her area of expertise.

It was the heavy picnic basket she was carrying that reminded her she was now off duty.

That, and seeing Timothy overjoyed to have the members of The Mudlarkers’ Club crowd around his bed.

‘Look at this! How nice of you all to be here.’ Timothy’s grin was so wide it looked as though it might split his face in two.

‘Don’t tell the nurse,’ Gemma whispered to Timothy. ‘But we’ve got wine and cheese. Not too much wine, though, for you, given the pain medication you’re probably on.’

‘Go, Gemma.’ Nick gave her a small, silent clap, which could have been interpreted as gently mocking, but given he was looking at her admirably again, perhaps he wasn’t.

‘A great initiative from Gemma,’ Phyllida said, as if Gemma had thought completely out of the box. ‘And I’ve made chocolate brownies!’ she added.

‘It’s only the usual stuff you bring patients,’ Gemma said, winking.

‘Wine? I love it. Anyway, you’re a nurse. You can apply for dispensation,’ said Nick.

Timothy started laughing, then winced.

‘Careful,’ Nick said.

‘It’s only a couple of bruised ribs. Nothing a bit of jollity won’t aggravate, or a dribble of wine won’t ease.’ Gemma could tell Timothy was trying to be stoic even though he was in pain.

‘Come on, Laila,’ Phyllida said, and off they went to find three more chairs to add to the one that was next to the bedside table.

‘How are you doing?’ Nick asked, gently touching Timothy’s shoulder.

‘Much better now that you’re here. The food is horrendous and the noise incessant, but hey-ho.’

‘You’ll be out in no time,’ Gemma said, setting up a wine and cheese station on Timothy’s meal tray.

‘You brought Wensleydale! My favourite.’

‘A little bird told me.’ Gemma cut him a slice and put it on a cracker.

‘I must thank you for being so good to Laila,’ Timothy said.

‘It’s not a bother. It’s nice having her around. She can stay as long as she likes.’

Gemma poured wine into the blue plastic picnic cups she’d not used since last summer.

She’d forgotten how much they reminded her of when Adam proposed on a windy beach in Cornwall, and sand had stuck to their rims like salt on a glass of margarita.

Hopefully, after tonight she’ll have made a new memory with them.

‘Right, we’re ready!’ Phyllida and Laila returned with chairs which they positioned either side of Timothy’s bed.

‘The nurse wasn’t too pleased, but I told her a patient’s mental health is as important as their physical.

She couldn’t disagree with that. How’s everyone?

’ Phyllida ran the sentences together as if she no longer had time for pauses or full stops.

Like Gemma, the others must have assumed her question was rhetorical because no one answered. Then Phyllida’s phone announced an incoming text. She read it, frowned and looked across to the curtains as if trying very hard to see through them.

‘I think mobiles are supposed to be turned off,’ Timothy said. ‘Or at least in aeroplane mode – whatever that means. Apart from reminding us that we’re as far away from being on an aeroplane as we could be.’

‘Suits me,’ Phyllida said, turning off her phone.

‘Everything okay, Phyll?’ Nick asked.

‘Just my bloody husband,’ she snapped, throwing the phone into her handbag.

‘Did your son get his passport sorted?’ Gemma asked.

‘Yes, but he had to delay his trip. It’s all fine now, though and he’s off on his travels.’ Then, her face brightened and she pulled out a green-glass bottle from another bag at her feet.

‘Well, look at that,’ Timothy said.

‘Isn’t it marvellous? I believe it’s a medicine bottle from the nineteen-forties, the type you can easily pick up from an antique shop. And before I forget, I brought this in. The fishing hook you found, Timothy.’

‘Did I find that?’

‘It was by your hand when you fell.’

‘I’d completely forgotten. Perhaps you could look after it for me. I don’t think the nurses would appreciate me harbouring all that rust in here.’

‘Of course.’

‘Do you want to see what I brought in?’ Nick held up a single domino. ‘I found this yesterday, too.’

‘There could be other dominoes where that came from. You should go back and see if the mud has revealed any more.’

‘Yeah, I could. Do you want to know where I found it? I can tell you the exact spot because afterwards I had a rest on a large rock nearby—’

‘Ssh.’ Phyllida put a finger to her lips. ‘You can’t tell us. A find spot is secret only to that mudlarker.’

‘But you were all with me. Kind of.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Well, sure, but it does seem a bit silly.’

‘It’s just a thing, Nick,’ said Phyllida.

‘Okay, whatever,’ he said and passed the domino to his left so everyone could get a close-up look.

‘Do you know anything about it?’ Laila asked.

Nick shook his head. ‘I’m guessing it was from a game played by sailors and it had fallen overboard.’

‘If money had been involved, they would have done it secretly, because seamen weren’t allowed to gamble,’ Timothy said. ‘It’s probably handmade, too.’

‘You’re like the walking Internet,’ said Nick.

‘Happy to be anything but injured,’ Timothy said, then cocked his head in the direction of the wine and waggled his empty glass.

Reluctantly, Gemma gave him a little more wine, given he hadn’t had an adverse reaction, and Laila reached over to adjust his pillows, which only proved that nursing didn’t always have to involve medical intervention.

He closed his eyes and let his body sink deeper into the bed.

Then, he opened them again and said, ‘What have you got, Gemma? Anything interesting?’

‘I decided to bring in something I discovered a while ago which I thought you, in particular, Timothy, would like.’ Gemma held up a bullet casing and gave it to him.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘A .303. The type of rifle round that was used in both world wars, as well as in aircraft machine guns like the Spitfire. Have I told you that over the years I’ve found musket balls, lead bullets and even a bomb?’

Gemma smiled. Getting Timothy engrossed in the past and distracted from his present, was exactly what she’d hoped this get together and the bullet would do.

‘Tell them your story, Gramps,’ Laila said. ‘The one about the bomb.’

Timothy thought for a moment before beginning.

‘I was on the foreshore one day, minding my own business. I won’t tell you exactly where …

’ He winked at Phyllida. ‘When I spotted something in the rubble.

It looked like a large stone. Except it was too spherical and cone-like to have come from Mother Nature.

I went to inspect it. What happened next, happened so quickly I had no time to stop it.

‘You see, as I was going over to the stone, I tripped on a bit of wood. I know, I know, I’m rather clumsy. The next minute my top dentures – I’ve had them for years – flew out in the direction of the stone. Only it wasn’t a stone. At that very moment, I determined it was a World War Two bomb.’

Nick’s mouth dropped open. ‘Really?’

‘Potentially unexploded.’

‘Wow.’

‘I dived for cover – not that there was any around – just as the dentures hit the bomb and I thought, this is it, there’s going to be an explosion.’ He paused and took a sip of wine.

‘And?’ Nick was practically on the edge of his chair in anticipation.

‘Well, naturally, it didn’t, because I’m still here.’ Timothy appeared chuffed at the success of his agility. ‘No casualties, only grazed knees and a muddy face.’

‘And a bomb that needed to see the dentist.’ Laila giggled.

‘Don’t make me laugh!’

‘Goodness, Timothy, you were very lucky,’ Phyllida said.

‘Did that really happen?’ Nick asked suspiciously.

Timothy smiled. ‘Ah, we have a journalist in our midst.’

‘It’s just, dentures landing on a bomb …?’

‘Well, all right, I may have exaggerated how far they flew, but they did come out and there was a bomb. The point is, there’s more ammunition lurking in the Thames than you’d like to imagine.’

‘What happened to the bomb, then?’ Nick asked.

‘Once I realised that the thing hadn’t gone off, I called the police. I knew they’d want to get a bomb disposal team to defuse it. Just because it hadn’t exploded then, didn’t mean it wouldn’t at another time. A simple fall or misstep could have easily set it off.’

‘But your dentures?’ Phyllida pressed a hand to her chest in expectation.

‘Exactly. It’s not easy talking with no top teeth. I had to repeat myself several times.’

Laila chuckled again.

‘My ribs!’ Timothy said.

‘I mean, did you get them back?’

‘I took them home to be disinfected. Dentures are expensive, you know. But before I went, I got a photo with the bomb and the disposal squad. Needless to say, I didn’t smile.’

‘Whoever said mudlarking was boring?’ Phyllida said.

Instinctively, they all turned to Laila.

‘Don’t look at me! I get it,’ she said.

‘Have you brought in anything, Laila?’

‘I was going to bring in a piece of ceramic but Gramps has seen tons of them so I left it at home.’

‘Is there anything you’d like to share with us instead?’

There was a whiff of self-help group about Phyllida’s questioning, which Gemma wasn’t sure Laila would embrace.

Except Laila surprised her and said yes, producing a sketch of the scene by the Thames that Gemma had seen her draw yesterday. ‘I did this for you, Gramps.’

‘Well, how about that!’ Timothy exclaimed.

‘If you can’t come to the river, the river can come to you,’ Gemma said.

‘It’s beautiful.’ Nick nodded.

For a moment they admired Laila’s drawing, until Phyllida broke the silence.

‘Now that the cheese has been decimated, anyone want a brownie?’

Finally. Gemma had been eyeing them up for ages. Everyone took a piece except for Phyllida. She was looking at her phone again, hoping no one would notice.

But Nick did. He may have had highly tuned observational skills but he also seemed to have a genuine caring side. ‘All okay, Phyll? No more dramas?’ he asked.

‘Ha!’ Phyllida scoffed ambiguously. She slipped her phone into her bag and brushed down her skirt as if it needed de-creasing.

‘Kids don’t always want to cause trouble, you know,’ Timothy said, which meant he’d either jumped to conclusions about what was happening in Phyllida’s personal life or he wanted to take the opportunity to endorse his foster granddaughter.

Heads turned to Laila, who looked down at her lap, embarrassed.

‘Life’s complicated and it can be a challenge,’ he continued.

‘It certainly can,’ Phyllida said ruefully. ‘I used to think that sometimes you were better off ignoring things, except they always find you eventually.’

Gemma swallowed. It was like Phyllida was talking about her.

‘I’d agree with that,’ Nick said.

‘They really do.’ Phyllida nodded.

Then it occurred to Gemma. Although Phyllida seemed to be skirting around her issues, unwilling to open up about them, she needn’t do so. What good were a group of friends if you couldn’t get their advice?

‘So, um …’ Gemma said softly.

‘What is it?’ Phyllida asked.

‘Can I canvas something with you all? It’s not strictly to do with mudlarking but it is about searching for something.’

‘Go for it.’ Nick said.

‘It’s about a find, as I said,’ Gemma began, unsure how to set the scene. ‘Something that I don’t know whether I will find, or if I really want to find. Well, no, I do want to find it. At least, I think I do.’

After this confusing introduction, Gemma told them what she’d discovered about her birth mother and how she was having second thoughts about requesting her social services file.

She was worried about what she might learn – where she came from and who she was – things she may end up wishing she didn’t know.

‘It’s not as if I dislike my adoptive family,’ she explained.

‘Far from it. They are my family. I don’t even think of myself as adopted. ’

‘What are you wanting to find out?’ Nick asked.

‘I want to learn my story. At the very least, to find my birth mother.’

‘That’s like digging up the whole of the Thames,’ said Phyllida.

‘Which is what scares me. What if I uncover a whole lot of stuff I don’t like?’

‘You don’t have to like it,’ Timothy said. ‘When we find a manky old sole of a shoe or a dirty bit of ceramic, we don’t have to love it, but merely appreciate where it came from and what it can teach us.’

‘Yeah, but once you know something, you can’t unknow it,’ Laila said, with the sagacity of a middle-aged woman.

‘That’s it,’ Gemma agreed.

‘Laila,’ Timothy chided.

‘I’m only trying to protect Gemma from finding out something she doesn’t want to know. Anyway, she knows I think she should do it.’

‘Thank you for your honesty, Laila,’ Gemma said.

‘It sounds like you want to know more,’ said Nick. ‘So, I reckon, go for it.’

Gemma nodded.

‘All in agreement, say aye.’ Nick winked at Phyllida.

The response was four very definite ayes.

The meeting really was turning into a self-help group, yet Gemma found she wasn’t ready to bring it to an end.

‘I guess, I’d better do it then,’ Gemma declared.