16
Whilst Lucy spoke to her friend, Mary, on the phone, asking her if she wanted to go for coffee, Bob, Harry and Dave started flicking between the channels on the TV, to see if there was any news about Steve. It had been over five months, and there’d been no mention of his death, or of a body turning up!
"If anything had been found, it would have been all over the news straight away," Bob frowned. "So I think we can assume it isn’t going to turn up!"
"He didn't have any family, did he?" Dave asked.
"He hadn't mentioned any!" Bob said.
The three of them sat in silence, drinking their beers as they thought about Steve's headless body!
Turning their attention back to the table, they looked at the two keys. Harry leant forward and picked one up and twiddled it between his fingers, “I’ve never seen a key like this before, except in a film… ‘Turn the key gentlemen!’” he gruffed, acting out the scene from an old eighties war film. “Where do you think they are from?”
Bob and Dave stared at him for a moment, waiting for a further explanation, but when none came, Bob just shook his head in disbelieve and sighed.
“I don’t know,” Bob said, picking the other one up and holding it up to the light. “For all we know they could just be for a camel lock or a bike!”
“I suppose we could go into Hunstanton and ask one of the key cutting shops?” Dave suggested.
“Worth a try. Harry, can you have a look on the computer,” Bob asked. “Just see if there’s anything out there with the same shape?”
“On it!” he nodded.
Bob went downstairs to help Lucy while Harry browsed the web. “And stay off the adult sites!” he shouted.
Harry looked at Dave and shrugged, “Don’t know what he’s on about!” he smiled. “So what do you think, Dave?”
“I haven’t a clue, mate. Let’s give it thirty minutes, if we don’t get a result, we’ll pop into town.”
While Harry opened up the computer again, Dave picked up the keys. Turning them over he compared them with each other, “They look almost identical,” he said as he studied them. He estimated their length to be roughly ten centimetres long, with a flattened tube-shaped shank, with teeth running along one edge, rising in the middle, making them looked like the profile of a mountain range. On one side he could see a slight groove running down the full length of each key. “Why do you think they're gold coloured?” he asked, holding them up to the window.
“Dunno, mate," Harry said, glancing over at them. "They look good!”
The fob differed between the two: one rectangular, the other round. Both having a star cut into them. A seven digit number was engraved beneath each star.
“There’s a number on these, Harry,” he said, handing him one.
Harry squinted to read it off as he typed the number into Google. “Nothing,” he said, putting his hands back behind his head and leaning back in the chair.
Dave looked at him, waiting for a flash of inspiration, when Harry asked, “Do you think Lucy’s got any more of those scones left?”
Downstairs, Bob and Lucy were chatting about the shops in Hunstanton. "I’m meeting up with Mary at the little tea shop on the High Street, I’ll ask her if she knows anyone who might know about keys,” Lucy said.
“Good idea, sis. When are you going?”
“In thirty minutes.”
“Right, I’ll let the guys know. We’ll grab a lift if that’s alright?”
Lucy nodded, as Bob went back upstairs.
Dave and Harry were already coming down, Harry’s hunger having got the better of him. “Any more scones going, Lucy?” he asked.
“Lucy’s gone to get the car,” Bob said. “We’re off to Hunstanton to get the key’s checked out. She’s meeting up with Mary.”
“Okay. I’ll get the keys,” Harry said.
“Room for three little ones, Luce?” Bob joked.
“Only if you clean the mud off your shoes first,” she said, smiling. She patted the seat next to her and said, “Harry! You sit up front with me.”
Bob and Dave squeezed into the back. They looked at each other, then at Harry chatting to Lucy.
“She’s a big girl,” Bob shrugged.
Lucy's car was a little Ford Fiesta, and she treated it like it was her baby: out cleaning it whenever it got dirty, covering it when the weather changed, and servicing it regularly.
When they arrived in Hunstanton, she said, “I’m off to have coffee at the tearooms. If you come down now I can ask Mary where the key cutting shops are!”
Mary was waiting inside, tea and scones already on the table. She waved excitedly as Lucy looked through the window. She got up and joined them outside, hugging Lucy like a long lost friend.
“Hi, Mary,” Bob said, holding his hand out. “Apparently you know someone who might know some things about diamonds?”
Lucy turned to him, “Don’t be in such a rush, Bobby!” Lucy asked her about the key cutting shops in the area.
“You could try WH Smith or one of the bigger supermarkets, they always seem to have those little franchises attached to them. Or there’s the market down in the main car park!"
“We could have worked that one out ourselves!” Bob thought, giving her a quizzical look.
“I’ll pick you up later,” Lucy said. “Make sure your phone is turned on, Bobby, you’ve nearly always got it turned off!”
The three of them visited a number of key cutting shops, getting the same answer from all of them. “Sorry, sir. Never seen a key like that before.”
Bob looked at Dave and Harry, and then at the pub, “Pint?”
“Pint,” they both replied.
Back home, later, Lucy had made vegetarian lasagne: all the ingredients coming from Bob’s garden. This was followed by apple and blackberry pie with homemade custard.
During dinner, Dave asked Lucy, “Why’s it called, Sunny Hunny?” As far as he was concerned, he hadn’t seen the sun all day.
“I don’t really know, but I think it’s because 'Sunny Hunny' is the only west-facing resort on the East Coast,” she explained. “And Aficionado’s started calling it that because of the superb golden beach, the wonderful sunsets and the candy-striped cliffs!”
Dave nodded blankly. Bob sat there with his mouth open, catching flies.
“Are you okay, Bobby?” she asked.
“How did you know that?”
“I’ve been asked a few times by tourists. I didn’t know, so I looked it up,” she said, smugly.
“Nice food,” Harry complimented. “Better than the crap we were eating out in the desert.”
“Thank you, it’s nice to be appreciated,” she smiled, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. She looked at Bob, and said, "Almost everything came from Bob’s allotment out back.” She picked up her glass, and took a sip, “And he made the wine as well.”
Bob and Dave watched as Lucy and Harry sat staring at each other for a few seconds too long, this time it was Dave’s turn to cough! “Will you two cut it out, I want to keep this down if you don’t mind,”
Harry laughed, “I can’t help it if Bob’s got a good-looking sister.”
Bob thought, looking at Harry, “This definitely proves beauty is in the eye of the beholder!” He looked at Dave, “Come on, Dave, let’s leave these two love birds to wash-up. Fancy a pint down the local?”
“Now you’re talking.”
While they were down the pub, Harry and Lucy cleared up, then Harry went and turned the TV on whilst Lucy got on the computer and booked tickets for the trip to London. She made first class seat reservations on the train and booked four suites at a hotel - the Westbury, in the heart of Mayfair. “Why not,” she smiled. “I’ll put it on Bobby’s card, he can afford it,” she said to herself. She clicked the booking button and sat back and thought about what clothes she should take.
When Bob and Dave got back from the pub, Harry was sitting in front of the TV, watching American football. Lucy was
sat snuggled up to him, much to Bob’s disgust.
“I’ve booked the train tickets, and got us a suite each in London for tomorrow,” she said, as they sat down.
Bob looked at Harry. Harry shrugged back, “First I’ve heard.”
The three of them looked at Lucy and waited for an explanation.
“Mary had a word with her jeweller friend in London, while we were having tea. He said he could see us tomorrow. So I booked the train.”
“Will he buy them?” Bob asked.
“He values jewels and buys them if he likes them.”
“Okay,” Bob said, looking at Dave and Harry. “Looks like we’re off to London tomorrow.”
17
The talk about the diamonds that night was interesting to the woman in the van, the man, though, didn’t think anything of it, he just continued to record everything that was said and done.
They’d had the team followed from the moment they stepped out of the car on the seafront to when they got back in and drove off. Everything had been recorded, sent back to the van and logged.
They were coming to the end of their twelve-hour shift. This had been broken up with the odd pee break, taking turns jumping out of a side door to find a nearby bush. The only food or drink they’d had was from a packed lunch, and a couple of pot noodles they’d bought on the way over. The woman thought about getting some good food when they were in London. She’d be able to jump out and go into a café, instead of eating Pot Noodles.
What was said during this meal, now meant the team had to relocate.
“It’ll be easier to tail them with so many people around,” the man said.
“And easier to lose them,” the woman cursed.
The man nodded, turning back to his computer.
At eight o’clock on the dot, the two people in the van heard a car pull up outside, beeping twice. A black SUV had parked just behind, two men sitting inside. They sat for two minutes, then beeped again—two short beeps, followed by a gap of ten seconds, followed by two more beeps. This always made the man in the van smile, not because of the comical way it was done, but as it was the signal for the end of their shift, and he could get away from his partner. It also meant he could go home to his Play Station and have a beer. The woman smiled too. She thought of a nice long session in the gym and then a long soak in a tub full of her favourite oils, followed by some real food.
****
The next morning, the woman set off for London, minus the man. The two men who’d just finished the night shift were sat in the SUV, they wanted to wait in case he’d overslept and was on his way, but the woman insisted on going.
“He won’t be in today, he rang earlier and said he had a headache,” she explained.
The two men looked at each other, they were tired and wanted to sleep. Shrugging, they followed the white van.
18
Lucy was busy making breakfast, a full English, whilst listening to the local news on the radio when Bob snuck up behind her.
“Morning! Sleep well?” he said, reaching around and picking a mushroom out of the frying pan.
“Oi! That’s not for you,” she said, slapping the back of his hand with the spatula. She heard Dave coming down the stairs. “Eggs?” she called out.
“Yes, please. Two. Easy-over if I could?”
“The menu says, as they come, okay?”
“Sounds good to me, thanks. Morning Harry, you look like you’ve been awake all night mate, are you okay?”
Bob looked at Harry, and they waited for an answer.
“I’m good thanks,” he said, smiling, looking at Lucy.
Bob tutted and drank his tea, shaking his head.
“Harry’s first, then Bob, then you, Dave,” she instructed.
“Sounds good to me. Thank you,” Dave acknowledged.
“I see my sister’s taken a liking to you, Harry?”
“It’s my manly charisma,” he said, smiling at Lucy.
Bob looked at her, shook his head again and shuddered.
Dave joined them at the table and poured a cup of tea. He looked at Harry, who was now chatting with Lucy like old friends, she was giggling like a teenage schoolgirl. He looked at Bob, and mouthed, “What the hell?”
Bob shrugged and helped himself to a slice of toast.
After they’d finished, Lucy and Harry did the washing up.
“I’ll get my bag down,” she said, hanging the tea towel up.
Bob, Dave and Harry looked at each other.
“What bag?” Bob asked.
“My overnight bag, of course. I’m not missing a chance to go to London, especially first-class. Anyway, I’ve already booked my suite at the hotel.”
The three guys looked at her, all thinking the same thing, “Shopping!”
They took a taxi to Peterborough train station, got on the train, sat back and relaxed.
****
Later sitting in the dining car, the conversation turned to what they were going to do with all the money once they’d sold the diamonds.
"A Porsche and a boat," Dave smiled.
"That's so stereotypical, Dave!" Bob scoffed.
"What are you going to do? Holiday, retirement fund..." Dave retorted.
"Nope. I'm going to open a garden centre!"
The three of them stared at Bob, working out whether they'd heard correctly.
"A garden centre!" Harry chuckled. "You mean with plants and trees and stuff?"
"Yep! Plants and trees, and maybe a fish pond section as well."
"It'll be lovely," Lucy smiled, affectionately. "I'm going to retire and travel.”
"Retire? You don't work, sis!"
“I'm going to retire from not doing anything and go and volunteer somewhere, a kids’ charity, probably abroad!” she smiled.
"If anyone's interested," Harry chirped, "I'm going to spend half of mine on wining and dining fabulously beautiful women, and then blow the other half!" he said, smiling.
****
Kings Cross station was busy, especially with the refurbishments going on in and around the station. This had the effect of making it look even busier as it funnelled everyone together coming out.
“This is one of the reasons I stay away from the city,” Lucy squirmed, clutching her bag.
When they got to the hotel, they went up to their suites and arranged to meet down in the bar. “Thirty minutes, people, okay?” Bob suggested.
“Don’t wait for me,” Lucy announced, excitedly. “I’m going to take a long hot bath,” she said, looking at Harry.
“Enjoy,” Bob said, shaking his head.
Lucy went and ran her bath. She’d been looking forward to this part of the hotel all day. Mary had told her the hotel’s upmarket oils and bath salts really soothed your skin and made you tingle all over. She smiled as she added the bath goodies to the water and waited for the bath to fill.
The soaps and fizzy bombs had been tucked into a little bamboo box, a label stuck to the lid showed the name of the hotel, embossed in gold letters. Underneath was printed, supplied by Harrods. As she sat, she looked at the wrapping paper the soaps had come in, and thought, “I bet you can get this in Body Shop for a fraction of the price.”
As the oversized bath filled, the steam coming off the water lifting the scent of the oils into the air, and the salts fizzed excitedly in the water turning it a creamy gold colour, Lucy slipped out of her clothes. She turned the taps off and stepped gently into the water, letting it wash over her body as she slid into her little piece of heaven.
A bottle of Champagne she’d ordered was now perched on a silver trolley - room service having delivered it earlier and pushed it into the bathroom.
As she lay there, letting the mixture of exotic oils moisturise her skin, she slipped her hand over and picked up her glass, she looked at it and smiled.
Downstairs, Bob got to the bar first and ordered a round of drinks. “Three pints of Bombardier, please.”
The barman nodded, “I’ll bring them
over, sir.”
Bob found a seat. He didn’t have to wait long, just as he sat down the barman slid the tray in front of him.
Bob thanked him, picked his pint up, and took a large gulp. “Ahhhh, sheer nectar!” he smiled.
By the time Dave arrived, Bob had nearly finished his first.
“I haven’t had a pint this good for months,” he said, wiping his mouth.
Harry joined the pair of them two minutes later, just as Bob got up to get himself another drink. “Get us some cheese & onion crisps and some salted nuts, Bob.”
“I don’t think they do crisps in here, Harry. Anything for you, Dave?”
Dave shook his head and took another sip of his beer.
As Bob came back with Harry’s nuts and something fancier than cheese & onion crisps, he looked at Dave and winked, nodding towards the table behind. Dave had a quick glance and copped an eye-full of a pair amazing legs.
They belonged to a nice bit of skirt who was busy nibbling the ear off some skinny scrote sat with her. Between this and the two of them snogging each other’s face off, they were talking about their day, and what they were going to do tomorrow.
Dave looked at Bob, “Too old for you, mate!”
“Wanker!” Bob silently mouthed back.
A few minutes later, the woman got up. “I won’t be long, darling, just going to powder my nose,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.
“Missing you already, cherry-pie.”
They blew each other a kiss as she walked off.
The walk to the ladies room took her past the guy’s table. She made eye contact with Harry and smiled.
When she’d passed, Bob looked at him, “What is it with you and women? It’s not like you’re an oil painting or anything!”
“Like I said before, Bob, it’s my manly charisma!” he said, taking a swig of his beer.
“I’ve heard it called some things in my time, Harry, but not your, manly charisma,” Dave retorted.
Bob and Dave chuckled, as they enjoyed the rest of their beer. Harry offered his nuts around, but Bob and Dave declined the offer, with Bob saying, “Save it for the women!”
19