Page 90 of Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay
Reluctantly I tell him what happened in the Ladies’ Chamber, waiting for his sceptical reaction at the end.
‘Sounds like we’d better find it, then!’ is all he says, to my surprise and relief. ‘We’d best ask Tiffany; she helped tidy away a lot of the unsold things that day.’
Tom puts his chair away in his barn, and then we dash back across the grass together, Tom taking hold of my hand as we go as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And I let him; it feels good to be sharing this with someone.
‘Tiffany, what did you do with all the left-over stuff from the courtyard sale?’ I ask as we reach the office, letting go of Tom’s hand just before we go in.
‘Didn’t you put most of it in one of the rooms just down the corridor?’ Tiffany says, looking at Tom.
‘I thought I had, but apparently not all of it went in there.’
Tiffany thinks. ‘I was sure we’d put it all in there. Is there something in particular you’re looking for?’
‘Yes, a dog. A stuffed dog. Do you remember it?’
‘Oh yeah, that mangy thing,’ Tiffany says, wrinkling up her nose. ‘I tossed it with some other rubbish I didn’t think was worth keeping. It gave me the creeps, and it probably had fleas. Who wants to stuff their dog when it’s dead, anyway? It’s just plain weird.
‘I didn’t dump anything valuable, mind,’ Tiffany continues when I simply stare open mouthed at her. ‘That all went back in the rooms. What?’ she asks when I don’t say anything. ‘Have I done something wrong?’
‘When you say dumped, Tiffany,’ Tom asks, ‘do you mean in the rubbish – the rubbish that gets collected from outside the gates every week?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Right.’ Tom grimaces at me.
‘I saved its collar, though,’ Tiffany says brightly. ‘The dog’s, I mean. Arthur said that dog had once belonged to the Countess of Chesterford – you know, Clara, the one whose diary we were looking for? So I thought I’d better keep the collar, in case we ever wanted to display it or something.’ She grins furtively. ‘Arthur doesn’t even know I still have it.’
‘Where is it now?’ I ask.
Tiffany reaches into the bottom drawer in her desk and retrieves a worn blue leather collar. ‘Here, do you want it?’
Eagerly I take the collar from her. ‘Look,’ I say excitedly as I turn it around in my hand. ‘There’s a key.’
Where there would normally be a silver dog tag, instead there hangs a tiny silver key.
‘I thought that was odd too,’ Tiffany says. ‘Cos he’s not wearing that in the picture.’
‘What picture?’ I ask, my ears pricking up. ‘There’s a painting of this dog somewhere?’
‘Yeah, when we had to sort the tower out for you arriving, we had to remove a lot of the last Earl’s things. Dorothy said you’d probably like a fresh start, so we took all his things and put them in storage. A painting of that dog was hanging in the toilet, of all places; I remember because I had to take it down. The dog looked a canny wee thing when it was alive, that’s why I hated that stuffed monstrosity so much.’
‘Where is the painting now?’
‘Er, Arthur put that and all the Earl’s other personal effects into some trunks. They’re down in the basement somewhere, I think.’
‘Where is Arthur now?’
‘Out. He’s gone to look at some new fencing with Joey.’
‘Do you know where he keeps the keys to these trunks?’
Tiffany goes over to Arthur’s desk and rootles about in one of the drawers. ‘He thinks they’re hidden in here because he tucks them away at the back. But . . . ’ Tiffany reaches right to the back of the drawer. ‘I know what he does!’ she says triumphantly, pulling a large ring of various keys from the depths of the drawer.
‘Shall we?’ she asks, delight that she’s got one over on Arthur shining from her eyes.
‘Why don’t you lead the way?’ I ask her, holding out my hand.
Tiffany leads us out of the back of the office and down the same corridor I’d travelled with her the first day I was here, when we’d lost Charlie.
