A couple of days later, Eleanor was surprised to find a note pushed through the door from Joshua Pinkham asking her to contact him about his books. She gave him a call and agreed to visit and give him her opinion the following day.
As arranged, Eleanor turned up in her lime-green van with a notepad, a camera and a Welsh spaniel. She didn’t know whether Joshua simply wanted to chat about options or whether he would ask her to assess his entire collection then and there. Having done plenty of house clearances in the past she knew it could be dusty work, so she went along in old jeans and had a scarf ready to cover her hair.
Combemouth Manor was as eccentric as Daniel had described it. Reached down an overgrown drive that seemed to go on forever, the house was a mishmash of styles in pale stone and red brick. As well as the main house, which was a couple of storeys high, there was a separate wing with a tower. It was all higgledy-piggledy and Eleanor found it enchanting.
The windows were grubby and covered in cobwebs and, if she hadn’t known any different, she would have thought the place was abandoned. The steps up to the imposing front door were almost completely overgrown with purple columbine and dense clumps of foxgloves so Eleanor decided to walk around the house to see if she could find another way in.
Halfway along a side wall, a door opened and Clarence shot out then began barking frenziedly at Bella who ignored him and carried on sniffing the lawn.
“You’re here, then?” In the doorway stood Joshua looking, if possible, even shabbier than he had when Eleanor had met him at the fair.
“Yes, I’m here,” she said, trying not to stare too hard at the stains down the front of his threadbare sweater.
“You’d best come in.”
Eleanor followed Joshua as he shuffled down a cool flagstoned corridor and around the corner through a door that seemed to mark the boundary between what would have been the servants’ area and the main house. Eventually, he took her into a reception room where the floor was covered with Afghan rugs and the walls were painted in a deep, rich red. Every surface seemed to be covered with knick-knacks of one sort or another and there were animal heads and painted landscapes hanging on the walls. One side of the room had wall-to-ceiling windows framed by heavy velvet curtains, but the two longest sides were completely covered in books.
Eleanor gasped. “This is beautiful,” she said, the room reminding her of the sun-filled place where she’d married Daniel a few months before. Yes, it was a bit tatty and the stuffed boar’s head baring its teeth on the wall might not be to everyone’s taste, but the place had potential. “You could hold weddings here, you know? Brides would love it.”
The look of horror on Joshua’s face was enough to stop her in her tracks. “I’ll fetch tea,” he said, and disappeared.
As she hadn’t been invited to sit down, Eleanor decided to check out the bookshelves instead. She chewed her lip, wondering what she’d taken on. At a rough guess, the small area of shelves she was looking at must have held about three hundred books: she was going to be there for some time.
If Joshua wanted her to catalogue everything accurately, she would have to remove each book from the shelf and photograph the binding and imprint page. She puffed out her cheeks, wishing she’d brought Joe along to help instead of Bella, who now came running into the room, hotly pursued by Clarence. At least the little dog seemed to appreciate their company.
Behind the dogs came Joshua with a porcelain teapot, silver sugar bowl and two battered mugs on a tray. “Right then, missus,” he said, moving a heap of paper out of the way to make space on the fine old table.
“Thank you,” said Eleanor, pleased to see the mugs were clean at least. Surreptitiously, she sniffed the milk before adding it. “What is it you’d like me to do?”
“I want you to help me get rid of that lot,” he said, sweeping his arm across the back wall.
“All those books?”
“All of those on that wall there – I shan’t bother with the others. The mice are welcome to those.”
Eleanor smiled nervously. “I have to be honest and tell you this isn’t my area, Mr Pinkham. What you need is a specialist who knows about antiquarian books. I can put you in touch with an expert if you would like me to.”
Joshua frowned. “I don’t want to deal with strangers.”
“I’ll come with them, if that helps?”
“No. You’ll do for me.” Eleanor wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or not by Joshua’s decision. “Now, can you help – yes or no?’
“I can,” she said, “though it may take a little time.”
“That’s all right, so long as it isn’t too long. I’ve got to be somewhere next month.”
“Okay. Well, I’d better make a start.”
“I suggest you begin at the top and work down.”
There were sliding library ladders that could be moved around the room and Joshua brought them over to one end of the back wall so Eleanor could reach the high shelves. These were thick with dust and assorted mummified insects, so she was relieved she’d brought something to cover her hair.
During the morning, Eleanor gradually moved across the shelves, extracting books, caressing their bindings and carefully lifting fine sheets of paper to admire the illustrations. In the few gaps between books she found a motley array of objects. Once she had the strange sensation of being watched and found herself eye to glass eye with a stuffed stoat bearing a distinct resemblance to Clarence. She turned away from the creature’s melancholy gaze with a start. Someone in the family had clearly had a thing for taxidermy: on the mantelpiece was a glass case containing a number of baby rabbits in Victorian costume arranged around a tea table.
Below her, Joshua had come back into the room and was sitting in a leather armchair watching her with interest. “Well?”
It was harder work than Eleanor had anticipated, climbing up and down the ladders to take photographs and make notes, but she was enjoying herself despite the cobwebs. “You have some lovely books here, Joshua – even some first editions. I can tell you now this lot will be worth a few thousand pounds, but I’m making a separate list of the books I think you might want to keep in the family.”
Joshua made a grumbling noise that sounded rather like “bah-humbug”. “Never mind family.”
“I expect you have nephews and nieces who would love to have these children’s books, for example?” When there was no response, Eleanor came down the ladder, took off her gloves and wiped a hand across her grubby brow. “Well, I have to go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow to carry on.”
“Very well. And don’t be late.”
* * *
The next day, Eleanor reached the middle section of the bookcase. She had cleared a long length of books about local flora and fauna, carrying them down to the table where she could take better photographs. It was when she went back to check out the bare patch of wall that she noticed something peculiar. She called Joshua as she backed down off the ladder, rubbing her dusty hands on her trousers. “I think you should come and look at this.”
Joshua, who had been sitting reading, stood up and approached, his face serious. Grasping the ladder, he slowly climbed up two steps until he was at eye level with the empty shelf.
“What is it, missus? I don’t see nothing.”
Eleanor dragged over a heavy mahogany chair, slipped off her shoes and stood on it. “There,” she said, pointing at the wall. “What’s that?”
In front of them, a small patch of bookcase was empty. It was only the glint of hinges on the left-hand side and an indentation on the right that revealed the wall was not solid. “I think it’s a door.”
Joshua’s eyes opened wide with surprise then he put a finger into the indentation and pulled. It was indeed a door. Opening it, he reached into a cupboard and withdrew a red leather briefcase, which he handed to Eleanor to put on the table. Next, Joshua brought out a wooden box which he carried down the ladder and put next to the briefcase.
“Well, goodness me! What a surprise.” Eleanor grinned broadly, expecting Joshua to be as excited as she was by their finds, but he said nothing. She stood watching him in silence for what seemed like an age until the grandfather clock struck 4pm and Joshua looked down at Clarence, who was sitting on one frayed slipper pawing his master’s ankle. “Teatime.” Without another word, Joshua went off to the scullery to feed the dog.