It was almost as if the letter had just disappeared from the face of the earth. In his mind, however, with a queasy increasing certainty, Dave knew all-too-well where the incriminating document had ended up. And if it WAS where he thought it was, and if 'The Others' discovered that he had lost it, and that it had been subsequently found by another party – and worst of all, that particular party – then he was in BIG trouble, SERIOUS trouble, and the outlook would not be particularly rosy for him...
Thus, within ten minutes there was a frantic banging on Ruby's door.
“Come in, David,” Ruby called. The caravan door was unlocked; she'd known he would arrive sooner, rather than later.
The door opened, and Dave stood before her, breathless, pale and nervous.
Ruby eyed him thoughtfully, knowing that she was in the position of power.
“David, you are perspiring like an overworked donkey on the sands of Blackpool beach during the height of summer. My boy, a tiny piece of personal advice. Sweating is never an endearing quality, no matter what the circumstances.”
She shepherded him through to the stove.
“Tea?'” It was more a statement of fact than a question. Ruby had already poured a cup and was passing it over to him, even as she spoke.
David accepted the tea, along with a ginger nut biscuit. He sipped politely from the china teacup, then placed it back on the matching pink-and-white Art Deco porcelain saucer and smiled unconvincingly. In order to break the tension, he tried a little flattering small-talk:
“Nice tea... English Breakfast? I don't normally drink this; I normally buy the supermarket's own cheap stuff, to be honest...”
Ruby scowled at him:
“Nice tea?! NICE TEA??!!! Don't talk to me about nice tea. I KNOW it's nice tea – I bought it. I drink quite a lot of tea. I know the difference between good tea and bad tea, and I don't see the point of pouring rubbish down my throat, so don't try to butter me up about tea....”
Tobias recognised the tone in Ruby's voice. He slid off the cushion and slipped silently out of the caravan. He knew Ruby was not in the mood for small talk.
“I didn't invite you over to discuss the niceties of tea on the palate and the relative merits of a supermarket's dried, shrivelled, pre-processed, mass-produced beverage as opposed to a hand-picked connoisseur blend. No, David. I summoned you here to explain this...”
From out of her pocket, Ruby produced a now slightly crumpled, thick, white sheet of paper. With a flourish, she waved it under his nose.
“I trust that this little missive was intended for your information, and for your eyes only, and was not supposed to be mixed in, as has erroneously transpired, with the bills and advertisements that seem to plague me with a tedious regularity?”
Dave wasn't too sure that he could speak with any certainty with reference to the rest of her mail, but he did know now that Ruby had his letter... and he needed it back in his possession; the quicker, the better.
“I'm sorry. It – It wasn't meant for you.... It wasn’t meant to get mixed up with your post. I need it back. It's nothing, really. It's about a club. Please, forget all about it. It means nothing. Just a note to remind me to attend a meeting.” He underlined his earnestness by repeating the same weak, unconvincing smile .
“The phrase 'shut it or else' does not strike me as a gentle reminder, and threatening a person with a 'surgeon' does not seem particularly friendly or endearing. Do you consider it so?”
Ruby left her sentence open, waiting for Dave to finish it for her.
He shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, edging himself nearer to Ruby, and to the precious, precious letter...
“I... I... I don't really know what to say, apart from – ”
With a speed that Ruby would never have credited, Dave suddenly lunged forward, snatched at the vital document in her hand and, using the same momentum, pushed past her, and on, on, through the door and out into the open air. He left with so much force that the door banged shut on his fingers and then flew open again.
By the time Ruby had gathered her wits, he was off, fast as his limping gait could carry him, up the path and down the road.
Ruby bolted to her door:
“Come back! Come back! David! Are you all right?”
Her words were all to no avail.
Dave continued rapidly on his way, his petulantly dismissive voice carrying back to her, faintly, on the wind:
“Yes. Yes. I'm OK... Pain is good! Please forget about this. It was all a mistake.”
Tobias slunk between Ruby's legs and back into the caravan, hoping that the drama had finally ended.
After a moment, Ruby shrugged her shoulders and then she, too, returned inside, to finish her tea.
“Strange boy”, she tutted. “I tell you, No good will come of this, Tobias. No good at all.”
It was only then that Ruby realised she still held the top third of the letter in her hand.
She topped up the tea in her dainty cup, sat down at the table and unfolded what remained of the note in front of her. Then she put her elbows on the table, rested her chin on her hands and thoughtfully began to scrutinise the torn scrap of paper…
Chapter 3
Paper Chase
“Tobias. This mystery needs some cogitating. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. Postmen pushing old ladies aside and brutally snatching pieces of paper that they nevertheless fervently insist 'mean nothing'. Not good. Really, not good. I won't be happy until I've gotten to the bottom of it.”
Tobias said nothing. He stretched his neck a little, just to look at the clock and see how long it would be until his next mealtime.
Ruby studied the paper
