Page 72 of Storm of Bells
Sticking the poor appendage into my mouth, Itried to take deep breaths. Mr Stone watched from the door,apprehensively.
‘Um…how are things going?’
Pulling my finger out of my mouth, I held upthe poor, much perforated thing. ‘How does it look to you?’
‘Oh dear.’
‘Indeed. You don’t perchance know anybody whois handy with a needle, do you?’ I asked, not bothering to concealmy desperate hope. ‘Someone who wouldn’t mind helping me out freeof charge.’
‘Well, actually…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Ihappen to have some talent with a needle myself.’
I stared at him, nearly forgetting all aboutmy perforated appendage.
‘You?’
‘Yes.’ His ears turned red in the cutest waypossible. ‘My, um, mother taught me. She said a man should alwaysbe able to mend his own socks.’
I grinned. ‘Sounds like an interestinglady.’
‘She is. I quite enjoy it, actually. It israther soothing. Definitely more soothing than warding offcreditors for Mr Ambrose. Not to speak of those little old ladieswho come asking for charity…’
He shuddered, clearly recalling sometraumatic memories.
Suddenly, a diabolical plan popped into mymind, fully formed, fiendish, and ready to go.
‘Well, Mr Stone…’
‘Yes?’
‘What would you say to me taking over thefront desk for a while?’
Slowly, a look of utter bliss spread over hisface. ‘Would you? Would you really? But…no. I can’t ask this ofyou. Mrs Emeline Windham-Wendroth from the Society for theProtection of Homeless Tomcats has been by three times alreadytoday. I couldn’t possibly subject anybody else to that.’
‘Don’t you worry.’ Grinning, I rose to myfeet. ‘You leave Mrs Emeline Windham-Wendroth to me. I have afeeling the two of us are going to have fun together.’
A blissful smile on his face, Mr Stone pickedsomething which had once been a sock from the pile of rags in theroom. He gazed at the thing with anticipation. ‘As will the two ofus. Needle?’
‘Here you go. Have fun.’
***
Over the next few days, Mr Ambrose got worseand worse. He took breaks. He hummed. He started to smile even inthe presence ofother employees. When Karim first got a fulldose of it, it nearly scared the beard off the poor fellow. As forme…well, his ideas of what sort of tasks a secretary should performgot stranger and stranger day by day.
‘He wantswhat?’ Karim demanded,jerking so badly it nearly toppled his turban off his head.
I glanced down at the note in my hand again,just to be sure.
‘A chocolate cake.’
‘Kuthay da puthar!’Karim cursed.
‘My thoughts exactly. I never thought I’d seethe day when Rikkard Ambrose would want to eat somethingtasty. Something thatI like.’ I shuddered. ‘Do youhave any idea what is wrong with him, Karim?’
‘If Idid, I would have already taken action,’ the bodyguard respondedglumly. ‘I shall ask the Most Merciful for hisguidance.’[21]
I nodded, dazed. To heck with the Church ofEngland! At this point, I wasn’t above taking all the help I couldget.
Which reminds me…
