Jasper found Nellie upstairs, staring grimly into the empty fireplace, a glass of sherry in one hand, the crucifix clutched in the other.
‘What’s going on, Nellie?’ Jasper asked gently. ‘Marianne’s downstairs weepin’ and you’re up here drinkin’.’
Nellie sighed miserably. Between Marianne threatening to sell her son to settle her debt, Edie threatening to tell everyone what had happened with Donald, and Terence stealing her jewellery, the day couldn’t get much worse. Not to mention Bert in hospital, and Gladys’s vengeful spirit hovering over the whole sorry mess. ‘It’s just been a bit of a day,’ she said eventually.
‘Come on, love,’ he coaxed, sitting down on the chair opposite. ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.’
Nellie looked up at him. ‘It’s worse,’ she whispered.
‘Is it Terence? he asked. ‘I told you, Nell—’
‘I don’t need your “I told you sos”.’
Jasper held up his hands. ‘Tell me then.’ He leant forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, his fingers blackened from his work in the forge.
‘It’s Gladys,’ she said.
Jasper huffed impatiently. ‘Not this again. There’s no such thing as ghosts. And that’s not why Marianne’s downstairs cryin’ fit to burst.’
Nellie nodded towards the mantelpiece. ‘Do you notice anything?’
Jasper stared at it for a moment, then frowned. ‘Where’s Donald’s picture?’ he asked.
‘She took it,’ Nellie hissed. ‘And not only that! My rings are missing. I saw Terence slip out of here just when the shells started this morning, so I thought he’d took ’em. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe they’ve been hid.’ She explained about all the other bits and pieces that had been moved around the building. ‘And not only that . . .’ Suddenly she remembered the washing she’d left in the bath that morning. ‘Everything smells, Jasper! I opened the wardrobe this mornin’ and the smell of Gladys’s rose water near knocked me out.’
‘Then someone put it there, but it weren’t Gladys,’ he insisted. ‘And if your jewels are missin’, I’d bet the forge that Terence is responsible. The little weasel. Wait till I get my hands on him!’
‘But he wouldn’t do all the other stuff. Why would he? What does he know about Gladys’s perfume?’
Jasper’s eyebrows raised. ‘Ghosts can’t pick stuff up, Nellie.’
‘I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,’ Nellie fired back.
‘I don’t. Someone’s playin’ games with you, love.’ He sat back and thought. ‘You don’t think it could be Donny, do you? I love the lad, but he’s been runnin’ rings around the lot of you these last months.’
‘No! Of course it’s not bloomin’ Donny!’
Jasper stood up and went to Nellie’s room. Inside, the wardrobe doors were open, hangers strewn across the brightly coloured carpet. Stepping over them carefully, he sat down on the bed, his nose twitching.
‘See?’ Nellie was leaning against the door frame, arms wrapped around herself. ‘I told you, didn’t I? I’m not imaginin’ it. Gladys is here.’ She stared around the room, eyes searching the corners, as though expecting to see her standing there.
Standing up, Jasper went and put his arms around her. ‘This ain’t a ghost, love. This is a person. And you need to report your stolen rings to the police.’
Nellie drew back. ‘No! No police!’
‘But why? You’ve bin robbed.’
‘I don’t need the police pokin’ their noses around my café. I got enough problems without that.’
‘Hmm.’ Jasper led Nellie to the bed and they sat down. ‘I need you to listen to me,’ he said softly. ‘Gladys ain’t hauntin’ you. Someone wants to scare you.’
‘But why?’ she cried. ‘What have I ever done to deserve this?’
‘Oh come on, love. Your sharp tongue has put more than one person’s nose out of joint around here.’
‘But to do this, Jasper! All they had to do was tell me to me face. I know I dish it out, but if I done wrong by someone, I’m happy to hold me hands up and apologise.’
‘Happy, are ya?’ he teased.
‘This ain’t funny, Jasper. What am I going to do?’
Jasper rubbed at the stubble on his chin. ‘You and me are gonna try to work out who hates you enough to do this. You’re right about Terence not bein’ the sort to know about Gladys’s perfume. But Lou would.’
Nellie shook her head. ‘If she had a problem with me, she’d come and say so. Thing about Lou is she’s straight up – you know where you stand with her. No, there’s only one explanation, and no matter how much you try to persuade me otherwise, it’s gotta be Gladys.’
‘And what would Glad want with Donald’s picture?’ Jasper asked.
Nellie didn’t reply. She had a fair idea why Gladys had taken Donald’s picture: it was to send her a message; remind her of what she’d promised just moments before she died. Or maybe it was worse than that . . . Now she was dead, maybe she finally knew the truth? She shivered and lay her head against Jasper’s shoulder, but even his warmth couldn’t dispel the ice-cold fear that was sweeping over her.
‘You know, Nell, whether Terence stole your stuff or not, you still owe him money. An’ I reckon there might be someone who can help.’ He led her back to the sitting room and they sat down opposite each other.
‘You know someone with fifty quid goin’ spare?’
Jasper whistled. ‘That much?’
Nellie didn’t reply. Just a year ago, she could have paid that from her savings, but she’d been reckless: topping up their supplies with expensive black market goods, using some to bolster the café’s takings on slow weeks . . . But buying that big piece of celluloid from Terence was the most foolish act of all. She’d always kept a tight rein on the café’s finances, but as soon as the bombs and shells had started to fall, her conscience wouldn’t let her sit on the money while others were suffering.
‘Well, like I said, I reckon there might be someone . . .’
Nellie narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Who?’
Jasper opened his mouth, then closed it again. ‘I can’t say more right now.’
‘Why d’you look so shifty?’
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘Just trust me. Everythin’s gonna be all right.’
Nellie examined his face; his cheeks were flushed and he was blinking rapidly. ‘What have you done?’ she said again.
Jasper rubbed his hands together and stood up. ‘Right then,’ he said cheerily. ‘Things to do, people to see. Meantime, think on what I said, love. Who hates you enough to try to drive you mad?’
Frowning, Nellie followed him to the top of the stairs. ‘I’ll tell you who drives me mad,’ she called over the thump of his footsteps as he rapidly descended. ‘You!’
Jasper looked back, winked, then disappeared.
Nellie walked slowly back to the sitting room, her thoughts whirling. She didn’t agree with Jasper; surely no one could hate her so much they’d hatch such an elaborate plan. No, there really was only one explanation.
A sudden thought occurred to her. Lou had come in the other day and slapped a notice down on the counter. ‘Here we go, Nell. Little gift from Barmy Bancroft.’
But was she really barmy? Or could she be the one person who could help her right now? As soon as she had a free moment, she would pay her a visit.