New Directions (6)

I faked a call on my mobile. Pretending to jump, I patted my jacket pocket and took it out. ‘Excuse me, Celia. My office.’ I held the thing up and explained, ‘Its set to vibrate when I get a call.’ She nodded, her bemused expression told me she had no understanding or interest in these new things.

Pushing the gadget next to my ear I listened to the non-existent voice. I muttered ‘Yes,’ a couple of times then, ‘Oh dear,’ and finished with, ‘don’t worry I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, David. I’ll come round and see this evening.’

Wearing what I hoped was a worried expression I said, ‘Poor David. His wound has become infected. He won’t be able to come to work until it’s fully healed.’

‘Oh goodness me, that is such a nuisance. I do hope the poor boy recovers quickly.’

‘I’m sure he will, Celia. He’s a strong chap, but I’ll have much more to do until he returns. He’s a great help to me in the office in addition his collection duties.’ I rested my head on my hand like I had all the troubles in the World.

‘I wish I could do something to help. I should send him a card.’

‘That’s very kind of you, but it’s a lot of trouble for you.’ I raised a finger, ‘Ah, there is something that would be helpful. Maybe you could make out a cheque rather than me visiting next week? If you post-date the cheque that would keep your records straight. . . . Would you mind? I will leave you a receipt.’

Celia hesitated for a moment. ’Yes of course.’ I could see she wasn’t keen. She returned the cup she held to its saucer. ‘I will have to fetch my file. I keep everything in the bureau,’ she made an effort to move.

I placed my hand on hers, ‘Perhaps I can get it for you?’

‘If you wouldn’t mind, thank you.’ Celia pointed to an ornate creation under the window, it’s in the top drawer on the left side. My pen is with the file.

The red leather bound folder was thick. I managed a quick look inside as I lifted it from the drawer. It was divided into compartments. Ten were labelled “bank records,” a year for each one going back ten years. The eleventh held her cheque book and what looked like fake receipts from the weasel. I also saw part of a letter headed: Daniels & Son Ltd. Certified Letting Agents, somehow I held back the string of foul curses exploding in my head.

I held the closed folder steady with both hands for a rest while she made out the cheque with a classic black fountain pen. I noticed the gold coloured band on the cap was hallmarked. When Celia finished writing she tugged the cheque from the booklet and waved it carefully until the ink dried. Before handing it to me she opened the folder and took out a blue envelope from a pocket on the back cover and slipped the cheque inside.

I replaced the pen and folder in their Georgian oak home while sneaking the letter into my jacket pocket. She wouldn’t need it, but I did.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ae/Duofold.jpg