Page 34 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
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Skirting the central garden on the museum side, well away from the workshop where, even now, Thom might be lurking,I did glance back but there was no sign of anyone about, and although some windows glimmered on the opposite side of the cobbled yard, there were none in the two buildings on the same side as my cottage. I could see now that the one nearest my cottage had a large board fixed to the front, that read: ‘Pelican Puppet Theatre’.
Puppets – I remembered that Thom had become interested in carving marionettes, so perhaps that was the connection that had led him here? I couldn’t make out the sign over the workshop next to it, other than a name ‘Bruno Bascombe’.
Somewhere, a clock began to chime the hour and I hurried on, going through the arched passageway to the market square, before turning right to the front door of Pelican House.
The lamps on either side of an ancient-looking studded wooden door were already lit and as I approached it was thrown open, revealing several people in the hallway.
This was definitely Pelican House, but I wondered for a moment if I’d mistaken the time, or even the day.
I stood watching for a moment as two elderly women emerged and walked briskly off together across the square, then a youngish man with a cockatoo-like crest of fair hair assisted three rather more infirm visitors down the steps and into a taxi that had drawn up outside, calling a cheerful goodbye before he went back in again.
I hurried to reach the door before he closed it and heard Honey’s familiar voice saying: ‘Thank you, Derek.’
‘Not at all. I’ll just clear away the sherry glasses and then I’ll be off home,’ he said, and vanished up the dark hall as Honey spotted me hovering on the threshold.
‘There you are, Garland! Did you get trampled by the march of the Zimmer frames? Come on in!’
‘I thought I must be too early. Have I come at the wrong time?’
‘No, not at all,’ she said, closing the door behind me. ‘That was just the remnants of Great-uncle Hugo’s Genealogy Society. They always met here on Mondays, and even though Hugo has passed away, some of them didn’t seem capable of grasping the idea that they’d have to find another venue, so in the end it was easier to let them keep coming. Derek pops over to see to them – they do love their sherry and sandwiches.’
‘Derek?’ I echoed, slightly at sea.
‘The man you just saw – he’s sort of my PA, secretary, housekeeper, cleaner, general factotum – totally invaluable! He has no set hours, just fits things in to suit himself.’
Slightly dazed by this flow of information, I let her take my jacket and hang it on a hallstand almost as dark and shiny as the wooden panelling on the wall, then followed her into a sitting room with more dark panelling, though the walls above it were white and a real fire burned in the stone fireplace. There were several plum velvet easy chairs and a vast and squishy-looking sofa, and the general effect was rich and cosy.
Honey, tall, slim and elegant in black trousers and top, gave me her tilted smile. ‘It’s lovely to see you again at last, Garland. I’m glad you’re on time, so we can have a little catch-up before the others arrive. Viv’s cooking.’
‘Which others?’ I blurted. ‘It’s not a dinner party, is it?’
‘Well, notreally. I just thought it was time I got everyone who lives in the mews together, so I can tell them about my plans for the museum. I’ve been too busy since I moved in to really get to know everyone, except in passing – mostly at the pub. But I thought it would be good for you to meet them all straight off, too, and break the ice.’
Before I could reply, she flipped up the top of a huge globe to reveal bottles and glasses and said, ‘Speaking of ice, would you like a drink? Viv only drinks sherry, but I mix a mean Martini.’
I’d been about to broach the question of why she hadn’t told me about Thom but I think she mistook my expression, because she said, ‘I know the globe drinks cabinet is really naff, but it was Uncle Hugo’s and it’s sort of amusing.’
I found my voice at last. ‘Honey, would one of these mews residents you’ve invited to meet me be Thom Reid, alias Ivo Gryffyn, by any chance?’
‘He’s just known as Thom Reid in Great Mumming, but yes, he works for Bruno Bascombe, the marionette maker, and lives in Pelican Mews.’
‘Then why, since you know the connection between us, didn’t you tell me he was here?’ I demanded. ‘I mean, you know he walked out on me six years ago, so you must have realized what a shock it would be for me to come unexpectedly face to face with him!’
I found I was holding a glass full of Martini, complete with an olive on a stick, and I took a great, steadying gulp.
‘Cheers, and welcome to your new home,’ Honey said, raising her glass in salute. ‘And the reason I didn’t tell you about Thom being here, once I realized you knew each other, was because he so obviously didn’t want it known who he was, or where he lived now – and then later, I thought it might put you off coming here, if you knew.’
‘It would,’ I said bluntly, then thought about what she’d just said. ‘But – surely everyone here knows who he is – orwas?’
‘Of course, but we’re all pretending we haven’t recognized him. Anyway, his glory days as Gus in the Silvermann films were a long time ago now, so I don’t suppose he was still getting mobbed before he left London.’
‘No, and somehow he always managed to look so ordinary even though he—’ I broke off. ‘I suppose hehasbeen here for the last six years?’
‘Uncle Hugo told me he’d been coming up to work with Bruno for some time before that and bought one of the mews cottages. Then, when he moved here permanently, he became Bruno’s full-time apprentice. He’s been here ever since.’
I felt my quick temper rising. ‘So all those years when I was wondering where he was and if he was happy, he’s been happily working and living here!’
