Scrap CH TWO part 34

CH TWO 34
DC Staples has been studying hard for his sergeant’s exams and despite the constant distractions from the wailing new baby, Thomas, he has passed. He hurries home to tell Louise the good news only to discover that she already knows, courtesy of one of her father’s old cronies. ‘See, I told you how much easier life is when you’re in the Brotherhood,’ she smirks as she dries her hands and turns from the kitchen sink. ‘I’m cooking something special tonight to celebrate.’ For once she seems pleased to see him, a rare occurrence, and for which he is pathetically grateful.
He decides to treat himself to a soak in the bath determined to enjoy his moment of glory while his wife is in a good mood. She hardly says a word to him these days, making the excuse that the children keep her so busy she doesn’t have time for anything else. He notes that she seems to have all the time in the world for her mother, her new friends and anyone else just not him, but he won’t let it spoil his evening. He took the exams, he passed, not her, and he is sure it is because he is good at his job and for no other reason. Okay so he gave in and accepted the ‘invitation’ to join the Freemasons, which is going to cost him a fortune, but that was to stop her constant nagging, not because he sought to further his career.
The smell of roasting beef wafts from the kitchen, promising a splendid meal is on the way. Louise hums to herself as she fusses about, laying the table and checking on the progress of cooking. She opens a bottle of burgundy and sets it on the table, adjusts the ‘best’ table napkins and sets out the condiments. The doorbell sounds and she hurries to answer it before her husband has chance to move from his seat in front of the television in the living room.
‘Come in, Jim’s in there if you’d like to join him,’ Louise greets her guests. ‘Who’s that?’ Calls Jim, ‘Oh, hello Daisy, Sam, I didn’t know you were coming.’ Sam hands over a bottle of Port; ‘congratulations on the promotion,’ he says, ‘Louise told Daisy this afternoon. Nice of you to invite us to celebrate.’ Yes, wasn’t it, thinks Jim, who had been hoping for a rewarding night in after months of emotional drought. ‘You’ll be earning more now you’re a sergeant,’ smiles Daisy, ‘soon be treating yourself to that new car Lou’s had her heart set on.’
Louise calls from the dining room, ‘dinner is served,’ and they follow Jim to their seats. To be fair, she has done a very nice spread, which is more than Jim usually gets after a long shift at the nick and he takes full advantage of the food and wine, pouring his own glass first to make sure he gets a generous share. They exchange small talk between mouthfuls, Jim having little in common with his next door neighbours apart from being roughly the same age and also having two small children. Daisy is really Louise’s friend and seems to blather on for hours about nothing at all. Jim at least has some reasonably amusing anecdotes to impart, coming into contact with all sorts of people in his dealings at the jewellery shop he owns in town.
Jim has come into contact with Sam during his monthly rounds of antique and jewellery shops when he delivers the latest update of stolen goods to look out for. Everyone knows that this is a pointless gesture but it has to be done and some of the shopkeepers offer coffee and biscuits and stop for a chat, which is preferable to the usual boring interviews with unresponsive petty criminals. These lists only serve to lower the price offered for any goods appearing on them as the buyers can point out the obvious and screw the sellers down to a small fraction of the real worth of any item they are trying to offload.
The diners have a little room left for Louise’s speciality trifle followed by cheese and biscuits, coffee and After Eight mints. She has really pushed the boat out and fetches a bottle of brandy from the sideboard. ‘Why don’t you and Sam take this into the living room while me and Daisy clear this lot away,’ she smiles at her husband. He doesn’t need telling twice and the two men stretch out on the sofas, undo their belts and partake of a good measure of Courvoisier. Neither of them smoke and they are both full to bursting but both are determined to make the most of this unexpected treat.
‘How’s business going with you then?’ asks Sam. Jim frowns slightly through the alcoholic haze, ‘same as usual,’ he says, ‘how about you? I bet you get all sorts through your door.’ Sam loves to talk about how well business is doing. He particularly enjoys showing off his new Jaguar, which he washes and polishes every Sunday come rain or shine, making sure that the radio is on loudly enough for the neighbours to notice. It’s the most expensive car in the road and he is very proud of it. ‘I’ve had a lot of folk in lately selling their family heirlooms because times are tough,’ he says, ‘their loss is my gain of course though I always pay a fair price, not like most of the jewellers around here who offer a tenth of the value. I had one lad in recently sold me his collection of gold sovereigns. Said his uncle had given him one for each birthday and Christmas since he was born and now he needed the money to buy essentials. He didn’t look fifty though, unless he’s found the elixir of life. Looked more like twenty I’d say but then again his uncle may have given him several if he was flush, who knows?’
Jim is never off duty and wonders who the man can be. ‘The only problem for you there is that it’s easy to find out the going rate so you have to pay top price,’ he offers. Sam taps the side of his nose with a fore finger, ‘he didn’t know there were some rarities among the lot though,’ he says, smiling greedily. ‘The 1897 ones for instance fetch a premium because they were minted in Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee year, and some of the others are harder to come by so they can fetch far more than the run of the mill coins. No, I made a tidy little profit out of that transaction I don’t mind admitting, but young Jason did alright out of it too.’
Alcohol has a habit of making people say too much and Jim can’t resist pressing the man. ‘That wouldn’t be Rosa Casey’s brother by any chance, would it?’ he asks casually. ‘Come to think of it, I reckon you’re right,’ adds Sam, ‘maybe his dad chipped in with a few himself.’ Jim wonders why the lad would be in need of money all of a sudden with his business going so well. Another reason to keep an eye on that particular scrap dealership.