Dorothy Eden (33 page)

Abby sat in the middle between Luke and Lola. As they had driven out of the gate the kookaburras had suddenly burst into a loud, “Haw, haw haw, ha ha ha!” which may have been indignation because of their missed breakfast, or in some mysterious way derisive, as if they knew the meaning of this journey in the early morning.

Lola talked all the way, simply because she was never silent. Luke made non-committal rejoinders. He had a look of hard purpose this morning. This was beginning to be his most familiar side. Abby wondered if moments like last night would grow fewer and fewer as he developed into the dedicated business man which so many men in this thriving city seemed to be. She said nothing at all, as Lola’s chatter flowed over her head, and scarcely listened to it until she realized that she was being addressed.

“You mustn’t think Milt’s too cranky, Abby. You should have seen him before his accident. He was like Luke, keen and energetic and on the ball. Luke, couldn’t we give him some fun before he goes into hospital next week? You know, he used to love going out on a kangaroo shoot. Look, why don’t we arrange one this weekend?”

“Could he travel that far?” Luke asked.

“Oh, yes, he doesn’t mind hours in a car. After all, he’s got to sit wherever he is, doesn’t he? We could take two cars.”

“I don’t think Abby would care for it,” said Luke.

“It would be a chance for her to see the outback. But I agree, it’s pretty primitive, and an English girl isn’t used to that sort of thing. Have you ever gone shooting, Abby?”

“Quite frankly,” said Abby, “I’d loathe to shoot a kangaroo, or to see one shot.”

“Well, they have to be, you know. They’re pests,” said Lola cheerfully. “All the same, it’s a thought, Luke. Let’s see what can be done. Abby could come up and stay with mother if she didn’t want to be left alone.”

Luke turned to give Abby a quick glance. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. It looked like excitement. He wanted to go on this expedition. He also wanted her to stay at home. So was it the kangaroos or a week-end with Lola that was the attraction?

Last night he had said, “Trust me?” and she had at that moment. But now it was the hard bright day, and he was no longer wakened by love. And they were just coming along the approach to the bridge. Luke slowed down to pay the toll, then they swept on to the smooth roadway, travelling fast, the huge steel arches above them.

“Would you mind if we arranged this expedition?” Luke was asking her.

Involuntarily Abby shivered.

“Are you worrying about the roos?”

“No, I always feel cold on this bridge.” Lola gaped at her.

“Goodness, you are funny. We’re proud of it. Aren’t we, Luke. If you want a really sinister place, Abby, you’d better see the Gap. Just jagged cliffs and the sea miles below. You ought to take her there, Luke, if you want to give her a thrill. You must be a sensitive person, Abby. I mean, even this man yesterday telling you to clear off simply because you were in the way, I expect, gave you the jitters. You’re just not used to our lack of manners.”

“It wasn’t my suggestion to go back to that place,” Abby pointed out. “I’d be very happy never to set eyes on that man again.”

“But if you’ve got this idea he’s going to persecute you, Luke’s quite right. It’s got to be cleared up. Personally…” Lola stopped and Abby said coldly,

“Personally, what? You think I imagined it?”

“No, I just think you read more into it than there really was. Don’t you, Luke?”

Luke was looking straight ahead, watching the road. His jaw seemed to have hardened.

“We’ll soon see,” he said non-committally.

“You both seem to have forgotten that there was also the telephone call,” Abby reminded them.

“A joke, probably,” Lola said. “Our zany sense of humor. It may have been old Jock from the boat. He’s a bit ga ga. Paying you out for not giving him a job.”

“How did you know he had asked for a job?” Abby said evenly.

“Mother saw him go to your door. She said old Jock was at his tricks again.”

“Tricks?”

“He works just long enough to buy beer.”

Luke’s voice broke into their conversation.

“We’ll be at the Cross in a few minutes, Abby. Watch carefully and see if you can spot the street. You said you didn’t notice it’s name.”

“No, but I’m sure I’ll recognize it. Drive slowly.”

“Not too slowly,” said Lola. “I’ve got to be at work in fifteen minutes.”

They edged along the busy streets, alive and noisy with people going to work. Abby glimpsed a flower stall, brilliant with carnations and the great orange pop pies.

“Near here, I think. Yes, it is. There’s the house with the birdcage on the balcony. It was round that corner.”

But the street into which they drove had no sign of any cosmetic company.

“It should be about here,” Abby said bewilderedly. “It was next to a jeweller’s shop. That looks like the shop there. No, it can’t be,” she added disappointedly. “There’s no sign up. But I’m sure this is the street.”

“Lots of people have birds in cages up here,” said Lola. “That must have been the wrong house on the wrong corner.”

“But I’m sure it wasn’t. I remember the rubber plants, too. Let’s go back there, Luke, and get out and walk. I’ll find it more easily if I’m walking.”

“It might be miles,” Lola protested.

Luke swung the car round and went back to the top of the street.

“Let’s do as Abby suggests.”

He parked the car and as Abby got out she was sure the birdcage on the rusty iron balcony was the one she had noticed yesterday. There was a canary in it, hopping about and chirping. On the front door there was a notice. “No vacancies. Please do not enquire”. Faded blue shutters hung at the windows.

It was the same house, Abby knew. It gave her that feeling of nervous expectation again. Strange things happened in the Cross. Hadn’t Lola said so?

“It was this way,” she said, leading the way, walking quickly, scanning the street signs. “I remember the smell of carnations from that stall. Oh, and look! Here’s the dress shop. It’s even got the same dress in the window. Don’t tell me I wouldn’t recognize that, Lola, because any woman would.”

Lola came up behind her skeptically.

Abby looked up. The sign that hung above them said “R. B. Mitchell, Wholesale Toys”. But there was a jeweller’s shop next door. She was certain it was the one she had noticed yesterday, although she hadn’t observed it as particularly as the black lace frock in the window of the dressmaker’s. And surely this was the doorway she had gone in. Although oddly enough the stairs were no longer bare. They now had a rather shabby beige carpet on them.

“But this was the place,” she persisted. “I’m sure—” Her voice died away uncertainly.

“There you are, Luke,” said Lola. “An example of the things a woman pinpoints in her memory. Birds in cages, the smell of carnations, a droopy lace dress. These things could be in a dozen streets in the Cross, Abby.”

“What do you think, Abby?” asked Luke. His voice was patient still, but he was obviously agreeing with Lola that she had made some curious mistake.

“I’m going up the stairs,” she said decisively. “There were two green doors at the top, one to a washroom and one to this other unfurnished room with the man. If they’re there I’ll know this is the place.”

“Okay, darling,” said Luke, taking her arm.

There was the same curve to the stairs, the same feeling of walking into dimness after the brightness of the street, and of fading noise. And there were two doors at the top, both green.

“There you are,” she said triumphantly. “Exactly as I said.”

“Even to this notice?” asked Luke.

For the door that yesterday had born no sign at all now had a neat one nailed on it, “R. B. Mitchell, Toys”, and not only that but it was partly open. Luke had only to push it and they were in a small carpeted alcove with a desk, and behind the desk a middle-aged woman, rather fat and jolly looking.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

There was a partition behind her, papered with a striped paper, slightly torn in two places, obviously not new. Neither was the carpet new, nor the worn-looking desk with the ancient model typewriter. Automatically Abby noticed these things. Everything looked as if it had been here for years, including the woman.

On the counter there was a toy, a little wooden figure dressed in starched petticoats, on a swing. Presumably, if it were wound, the figure swung backward and forwards. Abby had the dizzy feeling that it was she on the swing being pushed higher and higher.

“Well, Abby?” said Luke. He spoke to the woman. “I’m very sorry, but we seem to have come to the wrong place. My wife was looking for a cosmetic company. You don’t know it, do you? The Rose Bay Cosmetic Company?”

“Never heard of it. Isn’t it more likely to be at Rose Bay?”

Abby’s voice had an edge of tension.

“That’s exactly what I thought, but it was here I saw it. I came into this room and it was empty. Only yesterday.”

The partition hid the narrow window and the dingy well behind the building. She could scarcely jump over the desk and push her way behind the partition as she had pushed her way in yesterday. This all looked too respectable, and the plump woman wouldn’t understand.

“Well, we’ve been here for twenty-five years. But how much longer we will be, I don’t know. Mr. Mitchell is an old man and his toys are old-fashioned. Kids want jeeps and bren guns and rockets nowadays. Not this sort of thing.” She gave the little figure on the swing a push with her stubby finger. Her eyes had an odd brilliance, as if she were excited or keyed up about something. But that was the only off-beat note. The place seemed too genuine for argument.

“You must have been down another street,” she said, looking at Abby. “You’re a stranger here, aren’t you? I can tell by your voice.”

“What’s behind there?” Abby asked desperately.

“Stock. We’re wholesalers. Want to look?”

But Luke was impatient.

“Come, darling. You can’t waste people’s time. It’s obvious you’ve made a mistake.”

“And I’ve got to get to work,” said Lola. “Sorry, hon. I think you’ve just been having a daydream.”

Abby turned dazedly. She heard Luke saying, “Thank you very much,” to the woman, and the woman’s answer, “Not at all. Bring your kids for some toys one day. I’ll let you have them wholesale.”

Automatically Abby turned to add her thanks. She just caught a flicker of the woman’s eyelid. Had she winked at Luke?

Abby clutched his arm as they went down the stairs.

“Is this some unfunny joke? That woman winked at you!”

“Oh, Lord, Abby, don’t be so absurd!” Luke’s voice was impatient and disbelieving. She knew now that he had never taken her story too seriously. But what did he think she had been doing, inventing a fantasy to get attention? And he, with Lola’s help, had had to humor her.

“Luke!” She was near to angry tears. “I’m sure this was the place. I didn’t just make it up. Why should I? Let’s ask at the jewellers. They’ll know in there what’s been going on upstairs.”

Lola gave a sigh. “Honestly, Abby! Anyone can see nothing’s gone on upstairs since the year dot. And I’ve got to fly. Do you mind if I leave you? I’ll catch a bus.”

“Thanks a lot, Lola,” said Luke. “There’s no point in staying. If it’ll make Abby happier, we’ll go into this jeweller’s. But I must rush in a moment, too. I’ll pick you up tonight, Lola.”

It was better when Lola, with her skeptical eyes, had gone. But Abby was still deeply agitated. She led the way into the small jeweller’s shop herself, and when a small gray-haired man peered at her through pince nez over the glass counter she said without preamble,

“Have you ever heard of the Rose Bay Cosmetic Company? Were they upstairs until very recently?”

“The Rose Bay—what kind of company did you say?”

“Cosmetics.”

“Not upstairs, madam. There’s a toy company up there.”

Looking into his myopic eyes Abby felt the fog of bewilderment settling over her.

“Then do you know anything about the Rose Bay company? I’m so sure I saw their sign next door to you yesterday. But now everything looks different. There’s even a carpet on the stairs today.”

The man flicked a brief glance to Luke. It looked sympathetic, as if he saw, too, that he must humor Abby’s slight mental derangement.

“I never go up there, madam. It isn’t part of my premises. But if you say there wasn’t carpet yesterday and there is today, you must be confusing it with another place, mustn’t you? Things don’t happen that quickly with workmen nowadays.”

“Even if it had been put there in the night?” said Abby despairingly.

“Darling, you
have
made a mistake,” Luke said. “Don’t let’s go on wasting people’s time. My wife insists this company she’s looking for was next to a jeweller’s,” he explained to the man behind the counter. “But as I tell her, there isn’t only one jeweller’s shop in the Cross.”

“But none superior,” said the man, and gave a husky ha ha ha, which put Abby in mind of the kookaburras’ satirical laughter. “Sorry I can’t help you, madam.”

“I have this feeling—” Abby began as she and Luke stood in the street.

“What
feeling?”

“That they’re all making fun of me. Deliberately.”

“Me, too?” Luke asked.

Abby looked away unhappily.

“Well, I’m going to ask in this dress shop, anyway. You can’t tell me I don’t recognize that black lace dress.”

“I might point out that black lace dresses are common enough, or even that you saw this very dress, but at a different time yesterday. Not just as you came down the stairs from the empty room you talk about. You’d had a shock, remember? Or so you say. And you both telephoned Miss Atkinson and had coffee. It was probably after that that you saw the dress.”

“I’m sure—” Again Abby stopped. Was she sure of anything? Perhaps it had been in another street that she had found the dark stairway, beside another dress shop, with another lace dress in its window. Nevertheless she went decisively into the shop.

A very young assistant in a black dress herself, a shabby cotton one, came forward.