Cantwell's House

Debbie lifted the net curtain and saw her husband and Temple walking up the garden path to the front door. She was just about to go out and was irritated. She'd wasted the whole morning, so far. Now, she would be delayed still further.

"What's happened?" She asked, slightly alarmed by their unexpected appearance.

"Nothing, love, we've called in to see whether there have been any messages for us."

"As a matter of fact, there was one. I waited in all morning and I was going out to do some shopping, when the phone rang. It was about ten minutes ago. I tried ringing you at the police station but no one could find you."

"You didn't leave a message, did you?" Temple enquired anxiously. The last thing he wanted was for Baker to be tipped off.

"Of course not! You made it clear that I was only to speak to you or Tom. I do listen, you know!" She frowned at him.

"Well, we've got to be careful, Debs, that's all we meant." Cantwell intervened. He knew that his wife could sometimes take offence where none was intended. "What did she say? I assume it was Brenda Ellacott who left the message for us."

"Oh it was her alright. Talked rubbish, if you ask me. But I wrote it down for you. It makes no sense at all." She went to the sideboard and picked up a notepad. "Here it is. I'm going to the shops now."

"Hang on just for a moment, Mrs Cantwell. Just till we've read the note."

Debbie tutted but sat down on the settee clasping her handbag.

"Shall I read it, Gov?"

"Yes, good idea." Temple stood by the window and listened as Cantwell struggled to read his wife's writing:

"She says 'Reggie took her to Holly House. She'll be staying there for a week. Sandy is helping her to look after the shop. She said she walked to the village to get a packet of fags and no one minded. She's used the phone box on the green. She'll be at the shop tomorrow probably between midday and one o'clock.'" He handed Temple the notepad.

"Is that all she said?" Cantwell asked his wife.

"Yes! She wasn't one for small talk. She said she'd only put a small amount of money in the box." Debbie summoned up her courage and said, "Will I get paid for this?"

"Debbie!" Cantwell flushed with embarrassment.

"No, she's quite right to ask, Cantwell. Why should she do this for nothing. Look, Mrs Cantwell, I can't pay you right at this moment. However, I promise I'll see you're paid for your time. Just keep a record of how long you spend waiting around for a call and how many calls you actually take." He glanced at Cantwell. "However, it wouldn't look good if word got out at the station. So neither of you is to say one word of this. I'll put you down as Informant A. That's all anyone else needs to know."

"Remember that, Debbie, don't say a word about this."

She tossed her head and got up from the settee:
"As long as I'm paid, I don't want to know the details. Anyway, I'll be off now, Alright?" She looked at Temple.

"Of course. Oh, thank you, Mrs Cantwell."

When she had gone, Temple glanced at the notes and thought about what Brenda Ellacott had said. He was already planning ahead for the next day.

"Want a cup of tea or coffee, Gov?"

"A cup of tea would be good, thanks."

Cantwell went out into the kitchen leaving Temple in the front room. It was a small terraced house with two bedrooms and with the lounge and kitchen downstairs. The house smelled of wax furniture polish and every surface was bright from constant polishing. The mantelpiece had two brass candlesticks at either end. A small display cabinet housed a collection of toby jugs. Three blue plaster swallows hung, as if in flight, across one wall. A large brass plate and several horse brasses hung on the opposite wall. Several family photos were on a side table in the alcove of the bay window.

It was all very mundane, Temple thought. But it all indicated a family home that was cared for and valued. He compared it with his own flat; no pictures, no ornaments and just one photo of his daughter. Certainly there was no smell of polish. His furniture hadn't felt the touch of a duster for some weeks. For a moment, he regretted the path his life had taken. Then he remembered the friends he had lost at Anzio and put maudlin thoughts from his mind. He straightened his shoulders and took in a deep breath 'It's your road, son, you walk it.'

"I've got some bourbons, Gov. Like a nice bourbon with my tea."

"I'm sure you do, Cantwell," Temple laughed. "I'm sure you do." He sat on one of the chairs and drank his tea. He watched Cantwell dunk his biscuits in his cup and suck out the chocolate filling. "We'd better discuss this message of Brenda Ellacott's and how we plan to arrange the meeting tomorrow."