Sue for Mercy - Veronica Heley Page 0,6

last night.”

“You’re imagining things. I expect there’s a perfectly good explanation for his injuries.”

“He’s well-educated,” I said thoughtfully, “intelligent, quick-witted... a bit on the thin side, but not dissipated. I don’t think it’s drugs...”

“What?”

“Something’s wrong,” I said, pushing my plate away from me. “Maybe I’ll find out more this evening.”

I found Mrs. Burroughs’s without difficulty, and as I scanned the front of it, a slight, dark-haired young man ran up the steps and began to fidget in his pockets for his keys.

“Can I help you?” he asked, inquisitive as a squirrel.

I told him I’d come to collect one or two things for Mr. Ashton, who was in hospital, and he was all over me. He was a nice lad, without a mite of ill-nature in him.

“Poor Charles, of course! Come on in, and I’ll locate the Terror of Egerton Gardens for you. Mind the lino — polishing day today, and I’ve cracked my ankle twice against that hat-stand on polishing days... that’s it! Like playing Shipwreck in this hall, leaping from mat to mat. I really must get along to see Charles. Do you know how long he’s in for? Could have knocked me down with a feather when old Mrs. B. told us what had happened. I mean... Charles! Who’d have thought it of the old sober-sides? Now me or old John in Number Three — yes! Any day or night, if you get my meaning, but for Charles to go to a wild party and then crash his car... The notion takes some swallowing. And his car in dock, too? I’d never have thought, from the way he looked after it, that he’d let it stand outside in the rain all night, let alone crash it.”

He paused to take breath as he knocked on a heavy door at the foot of the stairs.

“Mrs. Burroughs! Someone to collect Charles’ things to take to the hospital.”

From inside the room martial music announced Newstime on television. The door opened and a majestic, calm-faced woman appeared.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she announced. “Mr. Bessiter, take the young lady upstairs and see that she removes all of Mr. Ashton’s belongings; they are all packed up ready for her. I have placed an envelope containing a rebate on Mr. Ashton’s rent inside his suitcase. Naturally he will not be returning here.”

“But...” I said. The door closed with finality. One did not argue with Mrs. Burroughs. The friendly lad beside me tugged at my arm, and gestured towards the stairs.

“No use arguing, my dear. Newstime is sacrosanct. Poor old Charles! He does like his nosh and she serves up a decent-sized plateful. Wonder where he’ll go? I’ll suppose he’ll go back home, but he always swore he’d sooner starve, and of course he could afford to get a proper flat, but... Maybe there’d be room for him at my married sister’s till he gets something permanent. Or did his boss... yes, I expect he’ll go to Whitestones — lucky dog! No, wait a minute, he can’t do that, if Mr. Brenner’s away. Or could he? Maybe I’d better see if I can turn up somewhere for him, so when you see him tonight, you’d better ask him what he wants to do.”

He showed me into a big room, overlooking the front. It was pleasantly furnished. A big desk in the bay window lay open, divested of papers. Wardrobe doors hung slightly ajar, and the bed had already been stripped. A large suitcase lay near the door, together with a cardboard box of shoes and a canvas grip bulging with books and sweaters.

“Look,” I said, “I only wanted his toilet things. Could you help me find them?”

“But he’s got them with him!” said Mr. Bessiter. “He came back for his leather holdall on Friday night — about eight o’clock it would be, because Mrs. B. was furious that he hadn’t told her he wouldn’t be in for supper. He said he’d to go away for the night, unexpectedly. He often did, you know, with his boss. Here, there and everywhere at a moment’s notice. Nothing unusual in that. Or he might have been going home for the weekend — I went with him once — fine place, they did have a lot of money you know, and they still keep it up even though... but he wouldn’t want me to talk about that! I always wondered why he didn’t commute from his home, for it’s only about five miles, but he said he liked to be