tables each neatly laid with two place settings and salt and pepper pots. There was a lingering background odour of bacon.
‘It’s the breakfast room,’ said the landlady from the door. ‘Breakfast is from eight to nine thirty, or you can have it earlier if you let me know the night before. I don’t do evening meals. There are lots of little places in the area where you can eat.’
She was either a very patient person or she wasn’t overburdened with other tasks at the moment. She didn’t appear to mind how long I lingered.
‘That’s OK,’ I told her. ‘I don’t think I’ll be staying long.’ I realised I owed her an explanation as to why I’d arrived in the company of plainclothes. ‘I just had the bad luck to meet up with that sergeant on the train. I didn’t give her any encouragement but she kept asking me questions. I don’t know why. She insisted on driving me here. She said she wanted to be sure I had somewhere to stay.’
‘Ever been homeless?’ the landlady asked unexpectedly but in a pleasant way.
‘Yes, for a little while. It was quite a time ago. Does it show?’ I was surprised.
‘No, dear, of course it doesn’t. My name’s Beryl. Do you want me to show you your room?’
She turned and lurched towards the staircase. The poodle pattered after her. I picked up my bag and followed.
We climbed slowly to the first floor. It was clear now that Beryl had some kind of walking difficulty. She held on to the banister and hauled herself up. When we arrived, she opened the door to a room at the back and stood aside for me to enter.
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable. I don’t offer a proper en suite although you’ve got your own washbasin, see? But there’s a bathroom right across the hall and toilets on each floor. There shouldn’t be a problem because there are only three other people staying, two tourists and a travelling rep, I know the sign in the window says I’m full, but I just switched that on to stop people coming and asking for rooms. It’s been a really busy summer and I wanted a bit of a rest.’
‘I’m sorry Mickey asked you to take me,’ I apologised. ‘It’s extra work for you.’
She waved that away with a hand tipped with scarlet nails. ‘No, dear, not a bit! I’m always happy to do Mickey Allerton a favour. I used to work for him, years ago.’
I put her age at around fifty now, but she still had style, despite the lame leg. The bright red hair was tucked into a neat French plait and she was carefully made up and wore large pearl cluster carrings.
‘I was a dancer,’ she said with a note of sadness in her voice. ‘Good days, they were. I had a lot of fun.’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘I don’t work for Mickey, not in his clubs. I don’t sing or dance or strip. I’m an actor although I haven’t got an acting job right now. Mickey just asked me to come to Oxford to do an errand for him.’
I glanced at the poodle. I could tell her about Bonnie being held as surety for my good behaviour but I decided against it. She obviously had a high opinion of Allerton and I didn’t want to damage it. Theirs was an old acquaintance. I was a ship passing in the night - I hoped.
‘All right, dear. It’s your business. When you’ve unpacked, come down and have a cup of tea with me,’ she invited.
I thanked her and she left me to it. I heard her awkward progress down the hall and then down the stairs. I wondered what had happened to her leg and remembered Ganesh’s sarcastic remark about falling off the stage.
The room was furnished very comfortably in a similar old-fashioned way to the breakfast room, but benefited from the early evening sun which cast a warm apricot glow over everything. Through frilly net curtains I gazed from the window on to the long narrow garden at the rear of the property. For ease of maintenance most of it had been paved. There were a couple of wooden seats but some
‘It’s the breakfast room,’ said the landlady from the door. ‘Breakfast is from eight to nine thirty, or you can have it earlier if you let me know the night before. I don’t do evening meals. There are lots of little places in the area where you can eat.’
She was either a very patient person or she wasn’t overburdened with other tasks at the moment. She didn’t appear to mind how long I lingered.
‘That’s OK,’ I told her. ‘I don’t think I’ll be staying long.’ I realised I owed her an explanation as to why I’d arrived in the company of plainclothes. ‘I just had the bad luck to meet up with that sergeant on the train. I didn’t give her any encouragement but she kept asking me questions. I don’t know why. She insisted on driving me here. She said she wanted to be sure I had somewhere to stay.’
‘Ever been homeless?’ the landlady asked unexpectedly but in a pleasant way.
‘Yes, for a little while. It was quite a time ago. Does it show?’ I was surprised.
‘No, dear, of course it doesn’t. My name’s Beryl. Do you want me to show you your room?’
She turned and lurched towards the staircase. The poodle pattered after her. I picked up my bag and followed.
We climbed slowly to the first floor. It was clear now that Beryl had some kind of walking difficulty. She held on to the banister and hauled herself up. When we arrived, she opened the door to a room at the back and stood aside for me to enter.
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable. I don’t offer a proper en suite although you’ve got your own washbasin, see? But there’s a bathroom right across the hall and toilets on each floor. There shouldn’t be a problem because there are only three other people staying, two tourists and a travelling rep, I know the sign in the window says I’m full, but I just switched that on to stop people coming and asking for rooms. It’s been a really busy summer and I wanted a bit of a rest.’
‘I’m sorry Mickey asked you to take me,’ I apologised. ‘It’s extra work for you.’
She waved that away with a hand tipped with scarlet nails. ‘No, dear, not a bit! I’m always happy to do Mickey Allerton a favour. I used to work for him, years ago.’
I put her age at around fifty now, but she still had style, despite the lame leg. The bright red hair was tucked into a neat French plait and she was carefully made up and wore large pearl cluster carrings.
‘I was a dancer,’ she said with a note of sadness in her voice. ‘Good days, they were. I had a lot of fun.’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘I don’t work for Mickey, not in his clubs. I don’t sing or dance or strip. I’m an actor although I haven’t got an acting job right now. Mickey just asked me to come to Oxford to do an errand for him.’
I glanced at the poodle. I could tell her about Bonnie being held as surety for my good behaviour but I decided against it. She obviously had a high opinion of Allerton and I didn’t want to damage it. Theirs was an old acquaintance. I was a ship passing in the night - I hoped.
‘All right, dear. It’s your business. When you’ve unpacked, come down and have a cup of tea with me,’ she invited.
I thanked her and she left me to it. I heard her awkward progress down the hall and then down the stairs. I wondered what had happened to her leg and remembered Ganesh’s sarcastic remark about falling off the stage.
The room was furnished very comfortably in a similar old-fashioned way to the breakfast room, but benefited from the early evening sun which cast a warm apricot glow over everything. Through frilly net curtains I gazed from the window on to the long narrow garden at the rear of the property. For ease of maintenance most of it had been paved. There were a couple of wooden seats but some
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