lady pressed it on me (I mean the watch, folks, the watch) as I left her doorstep, fifteen years old but aged inexpressibly in an hour. She was thirty or so. I couldn't help wondering at the time how someone so obviously senile (over twenty whole years of age!) was still managing to get about without a wheelchair, let alone sprint into my big seduction scene with such breathtaking relish. It was a fascinating business and preoccupied me for several hours, after which time I went back for a further lesson. I soon learned her moans were not exactly grief.
Other points also obsessed me. Despite having endured years of teaching to the contrary, I realized that women might actually like males. And I was one of that category7. I began watching the sorts of things they did, to see what they really wanted as opposed to what they were supposed to want. I caught on. Women need to be used, to help. I was up against an arch villain in the form of Edward Rink. I needed help. I looked fondly at Janie as she pottered about, and began to think clearly. It was about time I did.
As Janie got us both ready for bed I watched her every movement. She knew it. They always know when something's on the boil.
Conviction came upon me like an avenging angel. Manton, Wilkinson and Dandy Jack couldn't do anything about Rink. I could. The police would be all puzzled questions and no help. Therefore Bexon's find had to be rediscovered. Not by Edward Rink, but by Lovejoy. That would put the boot into Rink like nothing else on earth. I needed help urgently, until I got my hands back. And I needed money.
'Janie?' I said as she came in beside me that night.
'Yes, love?'
'Look, Janie…'
Ever noticed how time goes sometimes? You might think it's all the same stuff, day in, day out. It's not. It really does vary. Some minutes leave centuries of wear on you.
Others don't age you a second. I'll bet you know the feeling.
That next week was a few aeons long. Janie got me the two latest Time editions. I usually read that when I can afford it because its punctuation cares. Incidentally, correct grammar's a must for antique manuscripted letters and diaries, some of today's soaring valuables. You can allow for spelling mistakes by the milliard, but grammar has to be impeccable. And grammar isn't just using semicolons. If you suspect the genuine old letter which your best friend offers you ('… actually signed by her! On real old-type paper!') could be a forgery, try this test: even if you have no special knowledge of vegetable inks, papers, literary styles or script characteristics, just sit a moment and bother to read it. No cheating, start to finish. Bad grammar or really neffie punctuation should make you think twice, modern education being what it is. This test has saved me more than once. Another tip's the length of sentences. I'm not telling you any more or I'll lose the thread.
Janie got me a recent biography - Queen Mary. I read it, not to see if they mentioned her fabulous collection of jade snuff bottles, but to see if it mentioned how she acquired it. It didn't. They never do, which really tickles me. Word is that round the British Museum an impending visit from the great lady acted like a tocsin warning of the Visigoths landing. She's rumoured to have admired any particular jade piece with such fixed (not to say immovable) admiration that, just to get off the hook, squirming administrators felt compelled to offer her the object. Graciously accepted, of course. I really admire her for that, a collector after my own heart. An example for us all to follow. Of course, it's taking advantage of one's position. But do you know anyone who doesn't? Even God does that.
Janie had the phone reconnected in one day, which must be a record.
'Did you resort to bribery?' I demanded suspiciously.
'They're above that sort of thing,' she replied airily, almost as if people ever are. She rang the news round I'd got 'flu. Our local quack came and did his nut. People phoned with mediocre deals, all out of my reach. Big Frank nearly infarcted because I was late getting his silvers back. Janie ran them over to the Arcade the first morning to leave them with Margaret.
'We had a little chat,' Janie reported back, smug as any woman is after a scrap. I sighed on my sickbed. As if I'd not enough trouble.
Algernon came tiptoeing breathlessly in. The stupid burke brought an enormous bunch of lilies.
'I'm not dead yet, Algernon,' I said angrily.
Janie whisked them away diplomatically.
Algernon was cheerfully unabashed. 'I've brought you some grapes,' he said, 'for restorative nourishment.'
Janie swiftly bundled him outside. I heard him being full of solace in the porch.
'How very sad to witness poor Lovejoy's indefatigable high-spirited pleasantries dampened by such tragic infirmities.'
'Quite, Algernon,' Janie said firmly. 'I'm sorry I can't offer you some coffee, but in the circumstances…'
'Absolutely!' he prattled. 'On behalf of all of us antiques experts, Janie, may I express gratitude for your undying charity in so devotedly sticking to the task of restoring his poor battered physique!'
'Oh, er, well.'
One thing. No matter what goes wrong you can always depend on Algernon. I liked the antiques experts bit, may heaven forgive him.
Janie bought food from our village shop, setting tongues wagging. She said nothing to me about there being very little grub in the cottage, but her back had that critical look.
I made her write down what she spent and told her I owed it.
Doc Lancaster injected me with some rubbish or other that first day. Janie drove me to the local hospital and they trussed my hands. God, they did hurt.
Janie stayed the first night, jumping a mile at every stray noise. She was terrified and kept asking what sort of maniac would do a thing like that and why.
'We ought to report it,' she said more than once.
In the circumstances it was brave of her to stay. The evening of the second night she reported back home in wifely obedience, to check that none of her servants had pinched any of the nineteen bedrooms in her centrally heated mansion. Her husband was throwing a dinner-party for business friends and Janie had to baste the
