Dangerous in Love - Dangerous Davies 02 by Leslie Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

brown-grey water cascading from within.
    'Now!' snorted Archie and with a final haul, they brought it clear of the water, the wheels cutting into the mud of the bank and on to the flat surface. The stench was appalling.
    'Is that it, then?' said Archie.
    Davies said defensively: 'That's it.'
    Archie and Charlie helped Tennant from the water. 'You won't find anything else,' he forecast. 'There's too much gunge on the bottom.'
    Jemma moved forward and put both hands into the well of the pram, located and turned the four rusted clips. 'There's always a little trapdoor in the bottom,' she said. 'You can put a potty in it.'
    Davies put his hands into the cavity and brought out a large oblong biscuit tin, its lid strapped to its body by over-layers of sticky tape. '"Jacob's Cream Crackers,"' he read aloud.
    At Jemma's place the black and white babies had gone but had been replaced by a sprawling woman who occupied an armchair, knitting frantically at a nebulous garment that spread itself about her like a ceremonial robe. 'Edeee!' she bellowed. 'I'm Edeee!'
    'That's Edie,' said Jemma. She placed Lofty's sealed biscuit tin on the table.
    Tentatively, Davies and Mod greeted Edie. 'What did she say her name was?' asked Davies. Jemma glared at him. Davies put his hand to his ear.
    'Edeee!' bawled the woman, 'it's Edeee!'
    'Edie is staying for a while until they find a place for her,' said Jemma.
    'Somewhere isolated,' suggested Mod.
    Jemma regarded him sternly. 'There's no need to have your fun at her expense ’ she reproved. 'She's got nowhere to go.'
    Mod looked shamefaced. Davies studied the spread-eagled stranger. Solicitously he leaned over the knitting. 'What is it?' he asked.
    'Edeee!' hooted the woman. 'It's Edeee!'
    'You're upsetting her ’ warned Jemma seriously. 'It's knitting. It's therapy. She's not knitting anything in particular. Don't you think we had better look in Lofty's box?'
    Davies agreed. Mod was smiling inanely at Edie, nodding encouragement for the needles clicking like a two-stroke engine. They turned their attention to the biscuit box. It was scratched and scuffed. '"King Edward the Eighth" ‘ Davies read on the design. '"Coronation".' There was a figure in robes below the scratches, like someone standing behind a gauze curtain. Jemma produced a pair of scissors and deftly cut the blackened tape which sealed the tin. She nodded, passing the authority on to Davies. He pulled at one of the severed ends. Edie ceased knitting and creaked forward. 'Is it biscuits?' she shouted.
    Jemma turned to calm her. Davies had pulled the binding away from the box. He eased the rusted lid free. Within was a further box, well-made wood, with good brass hinges and a brass lock, which was open. Davies turned back the lid. The water had scarcely penetrated the sealed tin and the wood was only damp. Inside, packed closely with yellow newspaper, was a collection of elderly utensils, an ancient safety razor and a packet of blades, a stained bottle of Doctor Collis Browne's Mixture, a thick penknife, a mirror dimly blinking at the unaccustomed light, a cream jug in the shape of a cow with the words: 'A present from Clacton-on-Sea' on its flank, a hairbrush, a tin picture frame surrounding the faded face of an unhappy woman, and a single pearl in a worn ring box. Davies picked it out. 'I wonder if it's real?' he said. Jemma held it in her fingers. 'It's warm,' she said. 'It's real.'
    She handed it back to him and he opened his hand flat and let it lie there. 'Look at that,' he said quietly. 'Now what was Lofty Brock doing with a pearl?' They regarded it in silence, the stone rocking slightly in the palm of Davies's hand, until Mod said: 'Edward the Eighth didn't have a coronation. They made all these biscuit tins for nothing.'
    One by one Davies took the items from the wooden box. The mottled face of the woman blinked from her tin porthole. She was regarding the camera with suspicion, as if she feared something might jump from it.