Page 73 of Right Place, Right Time
‘And you’d be right, Freddy,’ I say, surprised how good this feels to admit. I look at Adam again, and he smiles.
‘Can I get you anything, Freddy?’ Adam asks, as Freddy sits elegantly down on the chair Adam had been sitting on earlier. ‘Tea, coffee … juice, perhaps?’
‘Kind of you, dear boy, but no. I stopped for a cup of tea at Fitzbillies on the way here. Charming as always.’
‘Adam is very partial to their Chelsea buns,’ I tell him.
‘And why wouldn’t you be? They perfected that recipe over a hundred years ago when they first opened. It should be the best and it still is. Anyway, enough talk of cake,’ Freddy says. ‘Wonderful though that is. What can I do for you today?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me, actually. I found a letter,’ I say carefully, ‘from my grandmother, and she said to ask you to come and visit the shop.’
‘Did she now … for what purpose?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t really know.’
‘I see … well, let me take a look around.’ Freddy scans the shop from his chair, his hands resting on the top of his cane. He does this slowly, taking in everything on view in the shop bit by bit. Finally, his gaze rests upon the grandfather clock on the wall opposite.
‘Where did you get that?’ he asks, pointing his cane at the clock. ‘Quite the beast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a large specimen.’
‘In a house clearance,’ I reply, not wanting to lead him at all.
‘A house clearance … where?’
‘In Grantchester. It was Adam’s grandfather’s house.’
‘I see.’
‘I was actually going to call you about it when I first got it, but then I found out it wasn’t working because it has no mechanism inside.’
‘Really … open, please.’ He gestures to the door of the clock now.
I go over and open it up. ‘See, nothing.’
Freddy nods knowingly. ‘That door is not the original,’ he says. ‘It’s been replaced.’
‘This door,’ I say, swinging the door to and fro on its hinges.
‘It’s not a revolving door, my dear, be careful with it.’
‘Sorry, how do you know it’s not the original door?’
‘I just do. The wood is not the same grain, for one thing.’
Both Adam and I examine the door.
‘He’s right.’ Adam kneels down next to the clock. ‘It is slightly different.’
‘How did I not notice this before?’ I ask, annoyed at myself.
‘No one other than an expert would notice,’ Freddy says. ‘Don’t reproach yourself too much, my dear. In fact, I’d say that was never supposed to be the door of a clock case; it’s far too thick. Clock-case doors are much more delicate usually. There’s no need for them to be great chunks of wood like this one is. Far too heavy.’
‘I did think it was a funny weight when we carried it into the shop. It makes sense now you’ve said that.’
Freddy leans forward in his chair. ‘Do I spy something on the other side of that door? Some detailing. Engraving, perhaps.’
I open the door of the clock as wide as it will go. ‘Yes, there is! Look, Adam.’
Adam comes over to the other side of the clock and I open the door as far as its hinges will allow.
