Chapter Seventeen

“Next!”

As he was the only one waiting to be served, Lawrence thought this was a bit foolish. Nevertheless, he took one more step to his left so he stood right opposite the man behind the counter. Taking off his hat, he nodded. “Hello, I’m Lawrence. I’ve not seen you before, what happened to Fred?”

Instead of replying straight away as he’d expected, the man, who had a very distinctive scar running from his temple to the left of his mouth, immediately brought a hand up to cover that side of his face and dashed around the back toward where Lawrence assumed the kitchen must be. As the woman they’d previously served exited the shop, this left as occupants only Lawrence and the chap who’d been leaning against the wall whilst the previous customer had been served.

Studying him, Lawrence had a strange sense of déjà vu. He couldn’t place it, but though half in the shadows as he was with only his lower face visible, he had a chin, as weak as a baby kitten, which seemed to be all a quiver, even when he hadn’t spoken a word the whole time Lawrence had been there. He coughed. However, the only response was another chin quiver, but this time, he brought up a hand to stroke that weakest of chins. Lawrence’s eyes widened briefly. Now he knew Doris’s instincts were spot on, as were his! That weak chin had started the bells ringing, but as soon as the man showed that hand, Lawrence was nigh on certain he knew who this person was—the hand was missing the two outer fingers. Nevertheless, he had to keep calm. It could still be a complete coincidence that he was here, if he was who he thought he was, though Lawrence didn’t believe in coincidences, and it escaped him what this kind of person could be doing in Hamble for an innocent reason.

Despite being nearly sure, Lawrence decided it would be best to play the role he came to play and not to reveal or confirm what he was, unless it couldn’t be helped. So he coughed again, and this time, the chap took a step, only a single one, toward him. Lawrence ramped up his role of disgruntled customer. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with your mate, but if I don’t get six lots of fish ’n’ chips to my friends in the next half hour, I’ll be down six friends. I presume you’re the new owner? Now, are you going to serve me, or not?”

What followed would have been funny as all hell, if Lawrence wasn’t both concerned about getting some good food to his friends whilst also wishing he could go back to his Portsmouth headquarters and check his files. Obviously the man hadn’t served a fish ’n’ chip supper in his life!

Firstly, he was so nervous he dropped the chip scoop in the frying oil. When he reached forward as if intending to pluck it out, Lawrence had been on the point of yelling at him not to be so stupid, but in the nick of time the man pulled his fingers back from the boiling oil. Then the man made the mistake of placing the fish on the paper first, before shoveling a single scoop of chips over each and wrapping them up. Doris would have let him have it for being stingy with the chips!

During the whole farcical operation, he never said a word, though his being in unavoidably close contact with Lawrence did give the policeman several good opportunities to take a closer look at his face. The temptation to go into full copper mode was almost unbearable. However, he kept his cool and managed not to laugh when the man had to unwrap one package, as he’d included his chip scoop in that one.

“How much do I owe you?” Lawrence asked when the packages were finally ready and before him. Surely the man had to speak now?

Indeed he did, and Lawrence’s instincts promptly went into over drive. He could almost hear a whistle going off in his head. The man had a voice like someone had kicked him in his gentleman’s tackle—high, squeaky, and wheezing.

“Nothing. Take it as a present,” he said in that strange, unmistakable voice. “I’m closing this shop down tonight.”

Lawrence couldn’t help himself. “Really? You’ve only been open a few weeks.”

The man shrugged, came from behind the counter, and held open the door for him. “My business,” he said. “Goodnight…Officer.”

Trying to keep the surprise from his face, Lawrence picked up his packages and marched through the door, giving him a polite nod of his head as he went. This wasn’t returned. As soon as the door banged shut behind him, Lawrence saw the man turn the sign to Closed and double-lock the door.

Despite the massive load of information and further possibilities going through his mind, the one which kept forcing its way to the forefront was, “If the fish ’n’ chip shop is really closed, Doris is going to murder me!”

****

True to his promise, Lawrence pulled up outside the ops hut a few minutes after six. Waiting for him outside were the remaining members of the Air Transport Auxiliary Mystery Club together with, much to Jane’s annoyance, a few guest members. Bobby yanked his leash out of Ruth’s grasp immediately Lawrence had one foot out of his car, his nose buried in the bottom of the pile of newspaper packages he was juggling.

“Would someone mind grabbing hold of Bobby, please?” he asked, doing his best to fend off the hungry hound with the foot, whilst half in and half out of his seat.

Hurrying forward, it took both Ruth and Betty to drag Bobby off, so intent was he on claiming his share of the wonderful smell emanating from Lawrence’s hands.

“Thank you,” he said, once Bobby had been secured by his leash to a wooden post.

With Jane holding the outer door open for him, Lawrence entered, still acutely aware of a dog’s nose too close to his behind for comfort. Turning his head, he said to Ruth, “Do me a favor and put some chips and fish on a plate for Bobby first? I don’t think he’ll leave us alone if we don’t.”

Laughing, Ruth veered toward the side of the hut opposite Jane’s office and tied Bobby’s leash to the foot of a desk. Kneeling down, she ruffled his ears and told him, “You be good, and I’ll be right back.”

As if he understood every word and what they implied, Bobby barked once and then sat down, his tail happily wagging away.

“You know,” Betty said as she began to slide the fish ’n’ chips onto plates spread across a cleared desk, “I swear he understands every word we say.”

“Walter? Of course he does!” Penny answered, patting the startled newsman on his head and then darting away before he had a chance to retaliate.

“If I wasn’t so hungry, Alsop,” he told her, picking up a chip from the plate Betty pushed into his hands, “you’d be in a world of trouble.”

After everyone had had a chance to have a few chips and a bit of fish, Betty asked, “So? What happened?”

Hurriedly swallowing some still-hot fish, Lawrence put down his fork to say, “Well, for a start, he’s never served behind a fish bar in his life.”

“It is rather untidy,” Penny agreed in between mouthfuls.

Not really knowing how to answer that, Lawrence instead ignored it. “However, in all seriousness, I’d have to say Doris is spot on. The one who was serving when I went in made himself scarce as soon as I asked about Fred. By chance, that made it easier to get a look at the one Doris was suspicious of, as he had to serve up.” He paused to take on board a few chips and some more fish before looking back up at his captive audience. “I’ve definitely seen his face before. Plus, what makes me even more certain, he’s missing a couple of fingers, and his voice sounds a bit like Mickey Mouse.”

“Who do you think he is?” Jane asked, between mouthfuls.

Lawrence shook his head. “I’d rather not say. At least, not until I’ve had a chance to get back to the office and check some things out.”

“I can understand that.” Betty then added, “But I need to ask you, how much danger do you think we’re in?”

“Well, he definitely knows I’m a copper,” Lawrence announced, causing everyone to pause in their dining. “He called me ‘Officer’ as I left.”

“I suppose,” Penny mused, “that doesn’t really change much. All it does is confirm something we suspected.”

“Yes,” Lawrence agreed, “but don’t let your guard down. Not,” he hastened to add as everyone opened their mouths to protest at the same time, “that I expect any of you to do so.”

“You do realize that when Doris finds out you’ve cut off her supply of fish ’n’ chips, you’re a dead man, Herbert!” Ruth told him, echoing his earlier thought.

****

Over a semi-warm breakfast of porridge the kitchens had sent up, Mary eyed her friend who, after being up half the night, still didn’t appear tired. She wagged her spoon at Doris. “Are you trying to tell me you saw a ghost last night?”

Doris finished off her bowlful and washed it down with the remains of her cup of tea before replying, “I didn’t say that…exactly. What I said was that I saw a strange light up in the attic last night.”

“Which you couldn’t find any reason for.”

“Which I couldn’t find any reason for,” Doris agreed.

Mary let out a sigh. “I don’t know what you saw, but we don’t have a ghost.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Mary nodded. “Believe me. My family’s lived here for as long as I know, and I’ve never heard anyone mention a ghost.”

Doris looked disappointed, but quickly rallied. “But that doesn’t mean to say there aren’t any! Maybe they’re…” She paused, thinking, as Mary watched her friend trying to come up with something plausible. “…shy!”

“Shy?” Mary repeated, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms. “A shy ghost.”

Doris mirrored Mary’s stance. “Why not?” she said with a pout. “You don’t have to be some dashing prince to be a ghost. It could be someone who always hides whenever someone living is around,” she added, warming to her subject.

Mary sloshed her tea around in her cup, finishing it off at the same time there came a knock on the door. “Come in,” she shouted, glad of the distraction.

The door opened and ushered in the receptionist from last evening. “Good morning, ladies,” he said, closing the door behind him, whilst staying as close to the door as possible. “I trust you slept well?”

“After my friend there left me alone for a wander, I did,” Mary answered and was rather surprised to see the captain’s eyes widen in unmistakable panic before he recovered himself.

“You went for a wander?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

“Uh-huh,” Doris said after a few moments, during which she shared a quick look with Mary. “Only up to the attic, as you did ask us not to walk around downstairs. I didn’t stay long. I’m sure you know there’s not much to see up there, but—” she deliberately paused, hoping Mary would be following what she was saying, “—I did see something strange.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Wood had to ask, “Something strange?”

Resting her head on an upturned hand, coincidentally ensuring the officer could no longer see her left eye, Mary winked at Doris. “Doris thinks she saw a ghost!”

Wood was unable to stop his eyes opening wide at this statement. However, that could have been because of the word ghost. “Um, I’m not sure what to say about that.”

Doris pounced. “Have you seen anything strange here? Do you know if anyone’s seen a ghost? Mary here”—she pointed a thumb at where Mary was trying to keep a straight face—“swears there’re no ghosts here.”

Making a show of the action, Mary stood up and crossed her heart. “I’ve never heard of one, nor have any of my family ever mentioned any.”

Standing a little straighter, Wood gestured at Mary’s uniform. “I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, but you’re not Wrens, are you?”

“Don’t hit him, Doris!” Mary burst out, causing the officer to back up until he collided with the door. Doris burst out laughing.

Doris got to her feet and pulled out a free seat at their breakfast table. “She’s joking now. Come and take a seat, please.” Once he’d done so, she added, “I never hit anyone before midday,” and he did his best to shuffle his seat back.

“I’m joking!” Doris told him, giving him a smile which persuaded him to stop.

“I can see why you’d be confused,” Mary began, running her hands down her trousers. “It’s about the same color as their uniform, but we’re both pilots in the Air Transport Auxiliary.”

If the army officer had looked surprised when the talk had been about ghosts just now, that was nothing to how he looked now. Even in 1944, there still appeared to be men who were surprised to hear of such a thing as female pilots. To his credit, he did recover his composure quickly. “You’ll have to pardon me. I’ve spent most of the war out of the country since I joined up in thirty-nine. If you’ll both indulge this ignorant idiot, would you tell me what that entails?”

“Go ahead,” Mary told Doris. “I’ll go and retrieve our hats.”

As Mary got up to go back into the bedroom, Wood half got out of his chair, at least proving he had manners.

“In a nutshell, if an aircraft needs delivering anywhere, to any branch of the services in the country, then we deliver it,” Doris informed him.

The man slumped back into his seat before asking, “Spitfires too?”

Doris laughed just as Mary came back into the room. “One of my favorites. Thanks,” she said as Mary tossed her service hat to her.

Seeing Doris get to her feet, Wood did the same. “I just popped my head around as I wanted to see if you were comfortable and that the porridge didn’t kill you. If there’s a need, we use it to case broken limbs—works just as well as plaster!”

Both girls smiled at the weak joke, but enough that they hoped he’d see they appreciated his effort.

“Quite comfortable, thank you,” Mary said.

“And if we feel like we’re carrying around a rock in our stomachs later, we’ll know to go and have a word with the cooks,” Doris added, treating the man to her best evil grin.

“That, I don’t doubt,” he hastened to say. “So why the uniforms?”

“Our boss made it a condition of allowing us to come up,” Mary informed him. “We tend to get some respect when people find out we’re doing our bit for the war effort, if they see a uniform.”

“Even if they think we’re navy,” Doris cut in.

“Even if they think we’re navy.” Mary laughed.

“Plus, they help us get a seat on the trains,” Doris added, seriously.

Wood placed his hand on the door handle. “If you’ll forgive me one more question?” Both girls nodded. “You’re here, doing what? I mean, my boss told me your parents own this place,” he nodded to Mary, “which is why you’re staying in his room for the night.”

“That explains the pipe on the dresser,” Doris said with a chuckle.

“If we don’t see him, would you please pass on our thanks?” Mary asked.

“Certainly,” he said, with a tilt of his head.

“And to answer your question, Doris here is getting married soon, and I’ve offered her the use of these rooms for her honeymoon. I wasn’t aware your CO used this suite as his quarters,” Mary then said. “I don’t mean to be awkward, but I’m not sure that was the arrangement my father made with him, but we don’t want to cause any trouble, so if Doris is okay with honeymooning here, we’ll let you know.”

Not giving the now obviously flustered officer a chance to respond, the girls made for the door, forcing him to back out ahead of her and Doris, until Mary was able to close the door behind them.

“Right. I’m going to show Doris around outside, and we’ll be back in around an hour. I believe we’re booked to take transport back to Aberdeen for midday?”

Now, thoroughly flustered, it took the poor man a minute to find his voice. “Er, um, right. Yes, that’s right. I’ll see to your bags, if you like,” he offered. “I’ll keep them in my office.”

Mary shook her head. “That’s all right. We’re going to take a look around outside, but I want to show Doris my old room up in the attic before we go, so we’ll pick them up on the way back down.”

“The attic? Right, well, I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbled, before turning around and, somewhat to the girl’s surprise, instead of heading downstairs as they expected, he shot off in the direction they both knew led toward the attic.

“What was that all about?” Doris asked.