Where Memories Are Made (32 page)

BOOK: Where Memories Are Made
5.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

His selection made of a bottle of Bell's whisky, Bacardi and Captain Morgan rum, a box of Rowntree's Today chocolates, Cadbury's Milk Tray and Terry's Peppermint Creams, without a please or thank you Jenks made to walk back into the chalet. Jackie's mind was screaming to her that if she didn't do something to stall him and get Dolan out then the plan had failed. How the police from Scotland Yard, whose arrival was imminent, would apprehend these violent criminals did not bear thinking about.

Jenks was just about to re-enter the chalet when an idea for stalling him and getting Dolan out as well struck Jackie. It was a lame attempt but she just hoped they fell for it. She called out, ‘Oh, just a minute. I need you to sign for the prize. It's so I can show my boss that you've had the stuff and I haven't pocketed it.' She gave a chuckle before continuing, ‘He doesn't trust any of his staff and that's a joke as we all know he's got his hand in the till. I need your father's signature too as you both won the prize.' He turned and looked suspiciously at her. She quickly told him, ‘I know, daft rule, but that's how it is. I'll have to take the prizes back else.'

Now in possession of his booty, Jenks didn't like the thought of parting with it. He poked his head into the chalet and she heard him say, ‘Can you just come out here for a sec and sign with me that we've had this stuff, else we don't get it?'

Inside Dolan had obviously been looking forward to his unexpected treat of alcohol and chocolates. Greed would not allow him to have it snatched away. Wearing a wig and glasses as a disguise, he appeared behind Jenks and stared to follow him over to join Jackie.

That was when she realised that she had nothing with her for them to sign. She had no idea how she was going to explain that to them, without raising their suspicions that this had all been a ruse. With the fear of God on her, she shut her eyes and prepared for the worst. Next thing she knew all hell broke loose. She had been knocked flying and was tumbling across the tarmac path to land a short distance away, sprawled flat on it, an agonising pain shooting from her right knee, ears ringing with cries of, ‘You effing bastards!'

She heard metal clanging, glass breaking, and the command, ‘Get them cuffed.'

Struggling to sit up, she saw several police officers hauling a handcuffed Dolan and Jenks to their feet, both of them screaming out death threats to their captors. The trolley that had been holding the bottles of drink and chocolates now lay on its side several feet from where it had been, its contents smashed and scattered around. As he was dragged away, Jenks turned and looked over at Jackie. She gave a shudder at the murderous glare she received from him.

It was getting on for midnight. Jackie, Ginger and Harold were seated in his office waiting for the return of Inspector Clayburn and PC Nuttall, who were seeing off the police from Scotland Yard along with their prisoners.

Of course news that there had been a police raid and two people arrested had gone around the camp like wildfire and so a very brief announcement had been made by Terry Jones on-stage in the Paradise ballroom, informing the campers that it had been discovered that two wanted criminals were hiding in a chalet and the police had carried out a raid to arrest them. It had been successful and the campers had nothing to worry about. Jackie had had the deep gash on her knee cleaned and dressed by Kitty Popple, and was ordered to drink lots of sweet tea and to watch out for delayed shock. Despite the serious danger she had been in, she was feeling far too euphoric over the part she had played in the capture of the two vicious criminals for any trauma to manifest itself. For the umpteenth time since they'd been sitting in the office waiting for Inspector Clayburn to return and officially tell them he had no further need of them tonight, she was very vocally reliving the events of earlier, making it sound like it had all been an exciting adventure. Ginger and Harold, out of respect and admiration for what she had done, hadn't told her to shut up, but no one was more grateful than them finally to see Inspector Clayburn walk in, followed closely by PC Nuttall.

With a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, Clayburn strode in purposefully to say, ‘Well, that's them safely off back to London. Boy, were those Scotland Yard lads one unhappy bunch, us country bumpkins having stolen their thunder! Joy to behold, it really was. Can't say Dolan and Jenks were very happy either, especially not sitting in the car so close to the suitcase containing their share of the robbery.

‘Scotland Yard have now turned their attention to other holiday camps, hoping that the remaining two members of the gang could be hiding out in one of them. No mean feat considering how many are dotted along the coastline the length and breadth of the British Isles, so I don't fancy their chances. As soon as those other two thugs get wind of what's happened to Dolan and Jenks, they'll be long gone. Still, at least the head of the gang and his main henchman have been caught, and half the money recovered. Better than nothing.' Arriving by the side of Jackie, he patted her shoulder. ‘It's you that's responsible for us bringing these men in. We need people like you in the force, so if you ever fancy a career change?'

She grinned up at him. ‘I'll bear that in mind.'

‘Right, well, you good people must be desperate to get to bed, I know I am.' Clayburn shot a grin at PC Nuttall before continuing, ‘And it's well past your bedtime so we'll be on our way. We've got your statement Miss Sims, but if we need anything else we'll be in touch. Just remember what I've said about the press. Until the court case is over you have nothing to say. After then you can sell your story to whoever you like. Be good publicity for Jolly's, people reading how observant and brave their staff are.'

When the policemen had departed Ginger said disappointedly, ‘That means I've got to wait for God knows how long until I get my name in print and become a celebrity.' Then her good humour returned and her eyes lit up with excitement. ‘Still at least we got saved from trawling Groovy's tonight. And I managed to get myself a date with PC Nuttall! I'd begun to think he wasn't interested, but he collared me when they got back to the office to wait for the police from Scotland Yard to arrive. He's going to call me on reception to make arrangements for us to go out on his next night off.'

Jackie wasn't listening. Her thoughts were of Vic. He would be wondering why she hadn't been at Groovy's tonight. She hoped he didn't think she had stood him up. She should really pay a visit to his chalet and tell him what had gone on – well, as much as she was allowed to – but then he might have gone to bed by now, and she wouldn't want to wake him so it would have to wait until tomorrow.

Having locked up the offices and the door to reception, Harold said his goodnights to Jackie and Ginger and went off to his car to drive back to Mablethorpe while the girls headed off to their chalet.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

B
oth girls should have been dead on their feet considering the night's events, but both, for their own separate reasons, were still far too keyed up for sleep.

Jackie said to Ginger, ‘If I go to bed now I'm not going to sleep. I think I'll go for a walk, see if that will tire me out. I won't make a noise when I come in.'

‘I'm not going to sleep either. I'll come with you. Shall we head for the beach?' Ginger looked up at the sky. A half moon shone down from the darkness, affording some light. A slight breeze was blowing. ‘Just the sort of night to have a snogging session in the dunes with a boyfriend. If things go the way I hope with Paul then maybe that's just what I'll be doing with him soon. But I'll settle for a paddle now.'

Jackie smiled at her. She hoped things worked out well. Paul had come across as a pleasant man and she hoped he would appreciate Ginger for the many good qualities she possessed. Jackie agreed with her that it was a lovely night, cool enough to need a cardigan but not a coat. Since it was nearing the end of August it was doubtful whether they would get another such night this year, it being so close to autumn, so they should take advantage. But she saw a problem.

‘Sounds just the ticket, Ginger, but we might not be the only ones down there on a night like this. I don't know about you but I can't face being pestered for details of more information than they were all given earlier tonight.'

Ginger pulled a face. ‘Mm, that never crossed my mind. I suppose wherever we go we risk meeting campers. Maybe we'll just give the walk a miss.' Then a thought struck her. ‘We could just take a stroll around the back of the staff chalets, and creep past Donkey Sam's hut so we don't wake him or the donkeys and cause mayhem. There's not much risk of coming across anyone else there at this time of night, except the security guards doing their rounds.'

Jackie shook her head. ‘As conscientious as our security guards are, I doubt they venture around the boundaries of the camp very often unless they hear about a tramp camping in the undergrowth and need to chase him away. A walk over there sounds good to me.'

They set off. Unusually for the two women they walked in silence, just enjoying the peace and quiet which was only broken by the occasional hoot of an owl. As they tiptoed past Donkey Sam's hut, they both had to fight to stem an outburst of hysteria as the sounds of loud snoring filtered through the walls. They remained undecided as to who was actually making the terrible noise … Sam himself or one of his donkeys.

A few yards past the shed the path wound its way around a thick section of neglected trees and undergrowth, and was difficult to negotiate. The walk though had done for the women what they'd hoped. They were both tired enough, they felt, for sleep to work its magic on them. But to turn back now would take them twice as long to reach their chalet than it would to keep going forward, so that was what they opted to do. Before long they arrived at the old rotting farm gate, the bottom half of it covered by thick weeds. They stopped for a moment to rest their arms on top of it, gazing into the deserted overgrown yard beyond at the derelict farmhouse which looked eerie in the light cast by the moon.

Ginger whispered to Jackie, ‘Those dark attic windows look like eyes glaring down at us, don't they?'

She nodded. ‘They do. And the front door looks like a mouth ready to open and gobble us up.'

They both chuckled at that.

Jackie then mused, ‘I'd forgotten this place was here. The one and only time I've seen it was when I first came to work for Jolly's, got the tour around and was warned the place was out of bounds because of the terrible state it's in.'

‘Yeah, me too,' said Ginger. ‘I wonder why Mrs Jolly hasn't had it knocked down and used the land to build something else.'

‘From what I was told, I think it holds too many memories for her of the old gent who used to own the original farm. Maybe she'll get around to it one day, though.'

‘Well, the place is giving me the willies. I keep imagining some ghost from the long-distant past is going to come out of the door any minute, so shall we go?' urged Ginger.

Jackie took one step away, and as she did so a flash of light coming from a downstairs window caught her eye. Wondering where it had come from, she stopped to stare over at the house again. She could not see anything that would have caused the light. She then stepped back to the place she'd been standing in previously, and as she did so the flash came again.

Ginger, by now a few feet ahead of her down the path, realised that Jackie wasn't with her. She turned back and saw her staring at the house. ‘What are you looking at, Jackie? You haven't seen a ghost, have you?' She said it jokingly. The last thing she wanted Jackie to tell her was that she had.

‘If I had seen a ghost, Ginger, I would have been tearing past you, screaming blue murder. No, I saw a flash of light coming from behind a chink in the curtains.'

‘Well, it's probably just the moonlight reflecting off the glass.'

‘No, it's not. The light is definitely coming from inside the house. Come and see for yourself.'

When Ginger rejoined her Jackie explained that she needed to stand in the precise spot where she had been while they had been chatting over the gate then take a step to the left, just as Jackie had done. Ginger did and saw the flash of light too.

‘Oh, you're right, Jackie. What do you think is causing it?'

‘I don't know.' She meant to find out though. She repeated her actions and came to the conclusion, ‘I think it's a candle.'

‘A candle!' Ginger repeated. ‘That means there is someone there then. It'll be a tramp,' she said with conviction.

Jackie looked bothered. ‘Well, that side of the farmhouse isn't as derelict as the other, but all the same the tramp could be risking his life taking shelter inside.'

‘Tell the security guards and let them deal with it. I'm knackered now and just want my bed,' grumbled Ginger.

‘Yes, so do I, but I won't be able to sleep, worrying about that tramp. I need to go and warn him of the risk he's taking. I won't be long. See you back at the chalet.'

Ginger looked horrified. ‘I can't let you go and face him alone. What if he turns nasty, seeing as you're trying to evict him from his shelter for the night?'

‘Ginger, I've just risked life and limb with two violent thugs. Dealing with an old tramp pales into insignificance.'

She heaved a fed-up sigh. ‘As if I haven't had enough excitement for one night. Come on, let's get this over with or we'll never see our beds tonight.'

After clambering over the old gate they stole their way over the uneven weed-strewn yard to the farmhouse door, deciding that would be the first place to try. They were expecting it to be as unyielding as the gate due to decades of disuse and they'd have to fight their way around the house to find the same way as the tramp had got in, via a broken window or the back door maybe. They were therefore both surprised when, on trying the knob of the front door, it turned easily and opened noiselessly. They both looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. The hinges had been well oiled, meaning that whoever was inside was no overnight visitor but had been living here for a while.

Other books

Sárkányok tánca by George R. R. Martin
Lone Wolves by John Smelcer
War Game by Anthony Price
Lurlene McDaniel by Hit & Run, Hit & Run
Dead Man's Resolution by Thomas K. Carpenter
Overtime by Tom Holt
Condor by John Nielsen