The First of Nine Read online

  For a couple of hours Tony worked in the kitchen while Theodore, his eyes closed, quietly appreciated the food aromas.

  Later Tony returned to the back garden, a bowl in his hand. Theodore sniffed the air. He made out chicken and fried rice with just a touch of fragrant spice. He considered for a moment jumping down and making himself known to the Chinese man. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and, after his trek over to the takeaway, he could have eaten the whole bowl of chicken and rice. But he held himself back. He was on the job, he reminded himself.

  Tony approached the side door to the garage. He opened the door, just wide enough so that he could slip inside. The door shut softly behind him.

  Since Arthur had eaten most of his left ear, Theodore now relied on his right. He could hear Tony’s voice, speaking softly in Mandarin. Theodore soon tuned into the new language.

  ‘You eat it all up,’ Tony was saying. ‘You eat it all up. You like my special chicken with rice? Yes, you do, don’t you? You eat it all up now.’

  Suddenly the screen over the kitchen door parted and Sue Wong appeared. She was shorter and fatter than her husband.

  ‘Tony!’ she shouted. ‘Where are you, Tony?’

  ‘I’m in here,’ Tony called from inside the garage.

  ‘What are you doing in there?’

  Tony walked out of the garage and shut the door behind him. ‘I was taking stock,’ he explained to his wife.

  ‘We need to start preparing the food for this evening,’ Sue said. ‘You know how busy we are at the moment. We are struggling to keep up with demand.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Tony said. ‘I think we need to employ help.’

  ‘I don’t think we can afford that,’ Sue said. ‘You know very well how much the school fees are at the Mount. We only just managed to scrape together enough for this term’s boarding.’

  Tony shook his head. ‘I knew we should have just had one child.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it that we had twins,’ Sue said smiling.

  ‘Well, it will all be worth it one day,’ Tony said. ‘Our daughters will be captains of industry!’

  ‘Yes,’ Sue said, ‘they won’t have to work in a takeaway, preparing crispy duck and fish and chips their whole lives.’

  ‘They won’t have to smell of curry sauce and fried rice,’ her husband agreed. ‘Now we must get on.’

  After Sue had returned inside, Tony went back into the garage. A moment later Theodore watched as Tony returned with an empty bowl in his hand and carried it into the kitchen where he placed it with the rest of the washing up in the large metal sink in front of the window.

  The kitchen was small and overflowing with the makings of the two hundred items on the Lucky Twin’s takeaway menu. There were a half dozen saucepans of different sauces simmering away. Tony could turn around any item on the menu within two minutes of Sue handing over the order. It was all in the preparation.

  But the volume leaving the kitchen in recent weeks had reached an unprecedented level. In the four hours between six and ten o’clock, Tony was putting out around three hundred dishes. At ten to ten Sue was shutting the door and any customers still queuing in the street were sent away.

  From time to time Sue walked in to inspect how the food preparations were going and remind Tony of how long it was until they opened their door to the street.

  ‘Two hours ‘til opening,’ she informed Tony at four o’clock.

  ◆◆◆

  Theodore closed his eyes and napped briefly.

  He opened his eyes some time later when he heard footsteps approaching along the back alley. He was well concealed by the branches of the cherry tree, so was not worried that he would be seen by whoever was approaching. But then the footsteps kept coming closer until they came to a stop less than a yard away.

  A man’s head had joined Theodore in the canopy of the tree. He didn’t notice Theodore. His stare was fixed at Tony, still busy in the kitchen.

  The man was in his mid-sixties. His dyed blond hair was scraped back from his face and combed back across his head. The grey scalp of his head was visible in the furrows left by the steel comb that he carried in the top pocket of his jacket. He wore steel rimmed glasses and a dark blue suit. His canary-yellow shirt was open at the neck. Theodore smelled a hint of aftershave underlined by a slightly fishy odour.

  They both watched as Tony placed a dozen ducks into oven dishes on the kitchen side. There was a neat row of glass jars on the kitchen windowsill, filled with herbs and spices. They watched as Tony picked out a small jar without a label and took a fair-sized pinch and began to sprinkle it over the ducks.

  Sue was observing from the doorway. ‘Make sure you don’t use too much of that special ingredient,’ Sue said.

  ‘We have plenty,’ Tony said.

  ‘We mustn’t run out of it… Our customers would soon go and find another outlet for their cravings.’

  ‘I am being careful, Sue,’ Tony said, screwing the lid back on the jar and returning it to the windowsill.

  Sue turned and walked out of the kitchen, glancing at her wristwatch as she went.

  Tony busied himself with the tasks of seasoning, salting, boiling, rubbing, drying, roasting and glazing the duck, following an ancient recipe handed down by his father back in Chongqing.

  ◆◆◆

  Theodore heard more footsteps approaching along the alley. Then the man by his side stepped away from the wall.

  ‘Why, Frank White!’ Irene said. ‘Whatever are you doing over there with your head in that tree?’

  ‘Oh, hallo there,’ Frank White said, backing away from the wall.

  Theodore turned to see Irene, her dog Rocky straining on its lead three yards in front of her.

  ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ Irene said.

  ‘I was just having a little walk,’ Frank said. ‘I must have wandered into that there tree... It needs a good cropping.’

  ‘You need to get your eyes tested Frank,’ Irene chided. ‘I was just out with Rocky.’

  Frank White bent down and patted the German shepherd on the head. The dog licked his hand excitedly. Frank took his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped away the saliva.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Frank,’ Irene said. ‘He gets a bit excited around men. He doesn’t get much male company, you see. A bit like myself.’

  Frank smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it. No harm done.’ He refolded his handkerchief and returned it to his jacket pocket.

  ‘I could wash it for you,’ Irene offered.

  ‘There really is no need,’ Frank said.

  ‘All right, Frank,’ Irene said.

  There was a moment’s awkward silence.

  ‘It was terrible what happened to Peter Morris,’ Irene said. ‘Who would want to do such a thing?’

  ‘I wasn’t that surprised,’ Frank said. ‘To tell the truth.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t liked… At the club,’ he said. ‘He had an opinion on everything… And many of his opinions were not that nice… I wasn’t all that surprised when I heard.’

  ‘He went to kick Rocky once,’ Irene said, nodding. ‘He got into his yard… and he said that he’d stirred up his birds. Went at him, he did… He was going to kick him.’

  ‘Aye, I wasn’t all that surprised,’ Frank said. ‘He would have wound up the wrong person.’

  ‘Aye, he must have said something to someone,’ Irene said.

  ‘Aye. He’d have upset someone.’

  Then Frank said, ‘I’d better be going. The shop…’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Irene said. ‘Bye Frank.’

  ‘Bye Irene.’

  Frank began to walk along the alley in the direction from which Irene had come.

  When he was about twenty yards away, Irene called after him, ‘I’ll be in later for me chips!’

  Frank turned and waved goodbye to Irene. Over her shoulder he noticed a grey smudge on top of the wall, amongst the branches of a cherry tree. He realize
d that it was a cat. The cat stared back at him. Had it been there a minute ago?

  Irene returned Frank’s gaze through her own myopic eyes. For a minute she was back in the school classroom, exchanging long, meaningful looks with the boy with the tousled hair. She had always thought he had not noticed her back then. But he evidently remembered her now. She could tell by the way he stared back at her.

  Before her daydreaming could progress, Irene was rudely jerked around by Rocky, who had also noticed Theodore on the wall.

  ‘Rocky!’ she admonished.

  The German shepherd barked excitedly.

  Irene yanked the dog’s lead and managed to pull him away.

  ‘I don’t know what’s got into him,’ she called after Frank, who was almost at the bottom of the alley.

  Frank did not turn round. He marched onwards, towards his fish and chip shop.

  ◆◆◆

  Theodore watched as Tony removed the ducks from the oven. He placed them on the kitchen counter and took two forks from a drawer. With practised skill he shredded the meat from the bones and then tossed the duck carcasses in the bin; the meat he placed in a large tray he covered with tinfoil.

  Theodore’s chin was wet with drool. His stomach hurt with hunger. His instinct was to jump down into the garden and raid the kitchen, and then make his escape. But Theodore restrained himself. He watched as Tony covered the dish with tinfoil and placed it back in the oven to keep warm. Tony glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall.

  At six o’clock Sue called out, ‘Are you ready? I’m going to open the door.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Tony shouted back.

  Tony Wong worked without a break. From the front of the shop Sue Wong took the orders, relentlessly slapping order chits on the counter that separated the front of the shop from the kitchen. Seeing Tony busy in the kitchen, Theodore jumped down into the garden.

  He examined the soil. There was a shallow depression where he had landed. He had not been the first cat to jump into this garden, he realized.

  He spotted old paw prints in the soil extending from the landing site and into the wilderness of poppies that towered above him.

  He followed a cat trail through the poppies. In a small clearing, the soil had been disturbed in several discrete patches. He sniffed at the little mounds; he knew that none of the piles were fresh.

  In front of him there was the kitchen window. To his side there was the garage. The soil was soft and damp beneath his paws. He looked at the patches of disturbed soil. Like Pavlov’s dog, he was a prisoner to suggestion.

  He dug a small hole and squatted down. He was in the middle of his bowel movement when the back door swung open.

  ‘Not again,’ Tony said, a kitchen knife held in one hand.

  Theodore cut it short.

  ‘You do not mess in my garden,’ Tony cried, coming towards Theodore, the knife raised.

  Theodore turned tail and did not look back until he was back on top of the wall, shielded by the branches of the cherry tree.

  ‘And do not come back,’ Tony shouted after him, waving the knife.

  Sue appeared in the doorway. ‘What is going on?’ she asked. ‘We have customers waiting for their orders…’

  Tony turned to her. ‘A cat,’ he said. ‘He was in the garden. He was messing in the garden.’

  ‘We have customers waiting for their meals and you are playing with cats in the garden.’ Sue shook her head, arms folded, then turned and walked back to her position behind the counter.

  Tony returned to the kitchen, where he was kept busy preparing meals until ten o’clock, then spent another hour cleaning the kitchen. Sue joined him and helped scrub the ovens and the hobs, while Tony scrubbed pans in the sink. They then counted up the takings.

  ‘Not a bad evening,’ Tony said, pushing crumpled notes into a brown A4 envelope.

  ‘We should soon have enough for next term’s school ski trip,’ Sue said with a sigh.

  ‘It is lucky that they let us pay in instalments. I don’t know how other parents manage.’

  ‘One day it will all be worth it,’ Sue said.

  They turned off the downstairs lights and moments later lights were turned on and curtains drawn upstairs. Theodore waited until the upstairs lights had been turned off before he jumped down into the garden again and finished the business he’d started earlier.

  The bedroom window was open to the night-time air. From inside he could hear Sue and Tony talking quietly.

  Later, when he heard Tony snoring, he approached the side door to the garage. He pressed his good ear to the timber door.

  He couldn’t hear anything from inside. He miaowed softly.

  A raspy miaow echoed back from behind the wooden door.

  He miaowed again. Again the miaow was returned.

  There were no windows to the garage. He paced up and down in front of the door. He noticed a spade leant against the garage wall. What good is a spade to me? he thought glancing at his paws.

  He retreated to the back wall and jumped up onto the top. Where the wall abutted the garage, he managed to jump up onto its sloping slate-tiled roof. He walked across the slates until he reached the ridge. He glanced over to the two upstairs windows of the Lucky Twin. He could still make out Tony’s snores.

  He walked along the ridge and spotted a rectangular panel of glass, silver in the moonlight, set into the grey slate roof. He peered through the roof light.

  A large chest freezer stood against the back wall. Numerous cardboard boxes were stacked in the remaining space.

  Theodore realized that the boxes were not tight up against the wall. There was a gap about two feet wide between the boxes and the wall, forming a run the length of the garage. At one end of the run two bowls were placed, one with water and one with food, next to a cushion. At the other end of the run was a tray containing what appeared to be uncooked rice, dotted with small turds. Pacing between the bowls and the litter tray was a cream coloured cat.

  Theodore dabbed a paw on the glass.

  From below a tabby face peered up at him. Her blue eyes penetrated the darkness. There was no doubt that it was Bal, Belle’s missing sister.

  But Bal was almost twice the size of Belle. Her diet of fried rice, chicken and whatever else Tony had been feeding her along with her confinement in the garage had led to this state of obesity. Bal stared up at Theodore, her eyes pleading to be released from her makeshift prison.

  Theodore understood at once what must have happened. Tony had discovered Bal fouling his precious garden. Unable to harm the cat, he had locked her in the garage and kept her prisoner.

  Theodore miaowed through the glass that he would get her out.

  But how am I to spring Bal from her cell? he wondered.

  His question was answered by a whistling from the alley.

  The Naked Chippie

  Theodore descended to the eaves of the garage and crouched above the gutter. He watched as Frank White’s head appeared over the back wall.

  Frank was now dressed in a black polo neck jumper. His dyed blond hair was waxed back from his face. He stood behind the wall for a minute, surveying the back of the Lucky Twin.

  Then he placed his forearms on the top of the wall and heaved himself up and over to the other side.

  ‘Oh, my knees,’ he cried, landing in the garden.

  He made for the side of the garage, just below the spot where Theodore was crouching.

  What was Frank up to? Theodore wondered.

  He watched as Frank approached the kitchen window. The top had been left ajar, no doubt to air the kitchen overnight. Frank took from his pocket a piece of string. Theodore noted that it had already been tied into a noose at one end.

  Frank held open the window with one hand and with the other hand fed through the noose, lowering it until it was level with the window fastener. He was a short while attempting to hook the loop of the noose over the edge of the fastener but with a quietly exclaimed ‘Yes!’ he succeeded. He jerked on the
string and the fastener lifted. Frank swung open the kitchen window.

  On the inside of the window ledge stood the row of jars. Frank grabbed one of the jars and unscrewed the lid. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we shall see what this special ingredient is all about’.

  He stuck his forefinger into his mouth, sucked on it a second, then thrust the finger into the jar before putting it back into his mouth. He smacked his lips. ‘As I thought: monosodium glutamate and…?’

  He thrust his finger in again. ‘Something else… Something else, indeed.’

  He shook more of the powder into his mouth straight from the jar. ‘It really is quite tasty… Reminds me of… Burma.’

  He smacked his lips.

  ‘Aye, Burma!’ he said, a flashback to his days in the merchant navy.

  Theodore watched as Frank held the jar above his head, then tipped the entire contents into his mouth.

  His eyes grew wide and sweat began to bead on his wrinkled forehead. ‘It’s damned good… It is a pity that it’s all gone!’

  He held the empty jar in front of his face. ‘What a pity!’ he cried. ‘It’s all gone!’ He opened his mouth wide and laughed.

  The light in the upstairs bedroom flicked on and the curtain turned poppy red. There were hurried steps on the stairs. Then the kitchen light was turned on, bathing the garden in white light.

  Theodore saw Tony Wong in black silk pyjamas rush into the kitchen. He grabbed a kitchen knife and made for the kitchen door.

  Frank abruptly stopped laughing. He dropped the jar. It shattered on the concrete paving slab at his feet.

  As Tony unlocked the door, Frank turned and ran to the back wall.

  The kitchen door swung open.

  Theodore blinked. It was time for action.

  As Tony rushed outside, knife in hand, Theodore jumped down from the garage roof and into the poppy garden. Tony saw the cat and swung round, swiping at him with the knife. But Theodore jumped out of his way, kicking up soil behind him. Tony swiped again with the blade but once more Theodore jumped out of his reach, kicking up dirt behind him.