A Christmas Promise - Anne Perry [21]
Minnie Maude gulped. “’e knew ’em. ’e used ter sing it all, an’ ’Ol’ Uncle Tom Cobley’ an’ all too,” she said.
“Oh, I know that one.” He hummed a few bars, and then a few more.
Gracie found her throat tight too, and was angry with herself for letting it get in the way of asking the right questions. “Did ’e say as ’e’d picked up anyfink special?” she interrupted.
The man looked at her curiously. “Like wot?”
“Like anyfink,” she said sharply. “Summink wot weren’t just rags an’ old clothes and bits o’ fur or lace, an’ ol’ shoes or bones and stuff.”
“Jus’ things wot nobody wanted,” the man said gently. “Bit o’ china wot was nice, four cups an’ saucers, a teapot wi’ no lid. ’e must a just ’ad a fit, fallen off. Could ’appen ter anyone. ’e weren’t no chicken.”
“Yeah. I’m sure,” Gracie replied, but she wouldn’t have been if she had not seen the blood and the scratches at the stable, and if Stan had not been so angry. It was the prickle of evil in the air, not the facts that she could make sense of to someone else. “’e were killed.”
The man pursed his lips. “Well ’e were fine when I saw ’im, an’ ’e di’n’t say nuffink.” He hesitated for a moment. “’e were late, though, fer this end o’ the way. Jimmy Quick’s round ’ere a couple of hours sooner…at least.”
“Yer sure?” Gracie asked, puzzled. She did not know if it meant anything, but they had so little to grasp on to that everything could matter.
“Course I’m sure,” the man replied. “Mebbe ’e were lorst. ’e was goin’ that way.” He pointed. “Or ’e forgot summink an’ went back on ’isself, like.”
Gracie thanked him, and she and Minnie Maude continued along the way that he had indicated.
“Wot’s ’e mean?” Minnie Maude said with a frown.
“I dunno,” Gracie admitted, but she was worried. It was beginning to sound wrong already. Why would anyone change the way he went to pick up old things that people put out, even good things? She tried to keep the anxiety out of her face, but when she glanced sideways at Minnie Maude, she saw the reflection of the same fear in her pinched expression, and the tightness of her shoulders under the shawl.
A couple of hundred yards farther on they found a girl selling ham sandwiches. She looked tired and cold, and Gracie felt faintly guilty that they had no intention of buying from her, not that they wouldn’t have liked to. The bread looked fresh and crusty, but they had no money to spare for such things.
“D’yer know Jimmy Quick?” Gracie asked her politely.
The girl gave a shrug and a smile. “Course I do. Comes by ’ere reg’lar. Why?”
“Cos me Uncle Alf did it fer ’im three days back,” Minnie Maude put in. “Did yer see ’im?” She forced a smile. “Wot’s yer name?”
“Florrie,” the girl replied. “Ol’ geezer wi’ white ’air all flying on top o’ ’is ’ead?”
Minnie Maude smiled, then puckered her lower lip quickly to stop herself from crying. “Yeah, that’s ’im.”
“’e made me laugh. ’e told me a funny story. Silly, it were, but I in’t laughed that ’ard fer ages.” She shook her head.
“Was ’e goin’ this way?” Gracie pointed back the way they had come. “Or that way?” she turned forward again.
Florrie considered. “That way,” she said finally, pointing east.
“Are yer certain?” Gracie said to Florrie. “That’d mean ’e were goin’ backward ter the way Jimmy Quick’d do it. Yer real certain?”
Florrie was puzzled. “Yeah. ’e come that way, an’ ’e went up there. I watched ’im go, cos ’e made me laugh, an’ ’e were singin’. I were singin’ along wif ’im. A man wif a long coat got sharp wif me cos I weren’t payin’ ’im no ’eed when ’e asked me fer a sandwich.”
“A man wif a long coat?” Minnie Maude said instantly. “Did ’e go after Uncle Alf?”
Florrie shook her head. “No. ’e went the other way.”
“We’ll ’ave a sandwich,” Gracie said quickly, feeling rash and expansive. She fished for a coin and passed it over. Florrie gave her the sandwich, and Gracie took it and carefully tore it in half, giving the other piece to Minnie Maude, who took it and ate it so fast it seemed to disappear from her hands.
It was much more difficult to find