The Locksmith Linda Calvey (phonics readers .txt) 📖

woman with immaculately groomed hair, wearing a chic Chanel two-piece suit.

‘Meet my wife, Maureen, she’ll show ya round, get a feel for the place. A drink, Bob?’ Charlie gestured for Bobby to follow him into the drawing room, while Ruby and George followed Maureen in a tour of the home, which was filled with vases of fresh white lilies.

‘It’s like a palace,’ said Ruby dreamily, which made Maureen laugh.

Her accent was as strong a cockney voice as her visitors, made rough from years puffing on her Cartier Pearl Tipped cigarettes.

‘You should’ve seen where I grew up, darlin’. It weren’t like this. We had a shared lavvy and two rooms between six of us in the Isle of Dogs. My mum used to ’ave to carry the pram up four flights of stairs to get to our rooms, which were damp all year round and had buckets to catch the leaks when it rained.’

Ruby nodded. She gazed around the immaculate bedrooms, walking on thick pile carpets before heading down to the designer kitchen that backed onto a landscaped garden.

‘It’s a different world,’ Ruby said at last.

Maureen turned to look at her. There was something motherly in her gaze. ‘Just imagine, you could ’ave a similar place one day.’

Ruby smiled. She would have a place like this.

Maureen nodded as if she knew what the young woman in front of her was thinking. Patting her gently on the arm, she said, ‘Why don’t I come lookin’ at properties with ya?’

‘I’d like that, thank you,’ Ruby replied.

‘It won’t be as big as this yet, darlin,’ but we’ll find you somethin’ gorgeous,’ Maureen added, smiling.

The two women had taken to each other at once. The only time Maureen’s smile had faltered during the tour was when she showed them Michael’s room. ‘This was my son’s. He died very young in an accident . . .’

Ruby didn’t know what to say, except, ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs Beaumont,’ her heart breaking for this composed and elegant women.

‘Call me Maureen, and thank you. It was a long time ago, but somehow you never forget, never.’ She smiled sadly back at her.

Feeling a little shaken, Ruby followed Maureen downstairs, wondering how a mother ever got over the death of a child. It didn’t seem possible, and yet, at first glance, she’d never have guessed the tragedy that had befallen them.

By the time they got to the dining room, Charlie and Bobby were chatting like old friends, Maureen had recovered herself and was back to being the charming hostess.

The four adults settled down to a lunch of roast chicken, potatoes and an exotic salad made with fruit neither Bobby nor Ruby recognised.

‘It’s mango!’ Maureen laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never tasted mango before?’

Ruby and Bobby shook their heads. George clapped his hands, smearing the sweet, sticky fruit Maureen had given him all over his face as he sat on his big sister’s lap, making everyone laugh.

‘Well it’s time I taught you both a few things, brought you up to speed.’ Maureen added, ‘Now, eat up, there’s tiramisu for dessert.’

She sounds so posh, Ruby thought. At the sight of Ruby and Bobby looking blank again, both Charlie and his wife laughed even harder. Their bemusement was clearly comical, and Ruby realised she had so much to learn, and she couldn’t wait to try out all these wonderful new things.

A couple of weeks, and about a hundred house visits later, Maureen found the perfect property for the small family. It was a three-bedroom house with its own large garden, a summerhouse and a garage. Best of all, it was only five minutes away from the Beaumonts.

The first time Ruby walked into the large entrance hall, she noticed the sense of space, the light, so different from their narrow, dark home in Star Lane. She knew straightaway that this was the right place. She looked over at Maureen who started to giggle.

‘You’ve found your home, Ruby,’ was all she said.

Ruby walked around each room as if in a daze. She could picture little George, chocolate smeared all over his mouth, toddling around the garden. He was nearly three years old and already trying to chase anything that moved, including birds that tweeted from the trees. Her adorable scamp would have room to run and play. He could have a play house, a swing and a climbing frame for when he was older, and there’d still be plenty of room left over to grow flowers.

Within weeks, the home was theirs. Ruby bought new furniture, ordered new curtains and blinds for each room, and decked the house out like a palace, though her taste was naturally refined, and she had each room painted white with the luxurious furnishings in muted shades. Before she had time to really settle in, Charlie appeared one day with a stranger beside him.

Ruby, a little flustered, ushered them both into her dining room, a white space with a long cherry-wood table and a set of elegantly carved seats.

‘I wanted you to meet Marcus Lawrence, an art dealer associate of mine. Marcus only deals with the wealthiest and most exclusive clients.’

He had trendy red glasses, swept-back hair and a tweed jacket over designer jeans and slip-on leather shoes. He looked every inch the London art buyer. She could see him sizing her up the same way, but with a slight air of puzzlement. Ruby was not your average crook. She dressed expensively now that Maureen had taken her up west for a shopping spree in Bond Street. Today she was wearing a coral-coloured dress that fitted her slim figure to perfection, with white slingback heels and beautiful jewellery. She wore her hair long, shining down her back, thick and lustrous, and used only the barest touches of make-up.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Ruby waited for Charlie to lead the conversation, sussing out every inch of this wealthy man as she did so.

‘Marcus arranges for paintings to be—’

‘Requisitioned,’ interjected the man.

‘Stolen,’ finished Charlie. ‘He’s a high-class dealer who