Secure Storage

She held her breath looking up to the dark sky ringed with street lights, passing buses and the glow of shops. She cursed herself for leaving work later than she’d meant and ending up in this crush of people trying to get down the steps of the Oxford Circus tube. People crushed up hard enough to lift each other off their feet. It was dangerous going down the steps to the ticket barriers. Touching the brick wall, Caroline held her small case to steady herself. The movement stopped suddenly pushing Caroline’s nose into the collar of a man on the step below her. She pulled back and saw his balding head, the dandruff she’d just had her nose pushed into and inwardly shuddered. ‘I am never doing this again’ she thought as the crowd suddenly released into the wider ticket hall. The mass rushed to the automatic ticket barriers, tutting as slower people got their tickets stuck or struggled to get their cards to pay to open the barriers quickly enough for the daily experts behind them. Caroline stopped to take a breath before tackling the barrier and then the escalators down to the rammed tube trains.

She noticed dandruff man slightly jigging in anticipation of getting through the barrier. He seemed to be in a real hurry she thought, like a racehorse anxious to get into the starter traps to make a flying run away from it all. His coat, old and shabby looked like it came from the 80’s and accompanying the speckled collar were two greasy worn elbows. She saw him dart forward, smacking his Oyster card on the terminal. The barrier opened and he went through but as he did a small black notebook fell from under his arm at Caroline’s feet. “Hello!!” she shouted to his retreating back but he didn’t turn. The queue behind her shoved a little, her shoes touched the little book. “Scuse me” she shouted as she saw the bobbing. bald head, head to the escalators. With difficultly, pushed into the barrier by the crowd, she bent down to pick up the book There were three escalators down to different tube lines. Which one did he go down?

Holding the shabby little book she looked around, thinking to give it one of the ticket collectors for lost and found but there was no one on her side of the barrier. ‘Hopefully he’s on the platform’ she thought heading to the middle escalator and joining the throng heading to the Bakerloo line. The platform, crowded either hid the owner of the black book or he just wasn’t there. She ran hard clutching her little red case and the black book and caught her train at Marylebone seconds before the door was locked. Heaving for breath she realised there were no seats left. she would have to stand. She rested her head against the cold dark window of the train door as it pulled out of London taking her home.

Her little red case became her impromptu seat as it had done many times before. Scrunched, she crouched on the case blessing it keeping her from having to sit on the filthy floor of the train. She closed her eyes trying to ignore the thighs in close proximity to her head. How was she to get out of this nightmare she had found herself in. The job was good, it was interesting, the hours were too long though and the commute, oh the commute. All these people shoved up against each other like slaves in a galley ship. That’s what I am she thought, a slave.

Her hands rested on her tightly bent knees and then she touched the little black book in her lap. Maybe it has his name in it, I can post it back. She opened it. Dark spikey writing met her gaze. £25k next to 16 . Move 14. She turned the page, 14 and 13 and then a star scratched into the paper next to the figures. No name, nothing on the front. Caroline bent the pages and let them flick through. Page after page of the same spikey writing with numbers, crossings out and stars. ‘Weird’ She closed the book and her eyes and waited for the train to pull up in Banbury. Her old car waited like a patient horse and she threw her case and coat in the back. The black book was chucked onto the passenger seat as she struggled to get the key in the ignition in the darkness of the carpark. The old horse sprang into unlikely life and she pulled out leaving the orange sodium lights of the market town to the dark country lanes that led up to her cottage in the woods. Isolated, dark ,none of her friends liked visiting at night but Caroline was happy to park and walk to the house by the light of the rising moon.

She stopped to take a breath and listen to owls hooting to each other in the woods. The huge key which opened the old door stuck and she had to give it a wrench to open it. Her bag, coat and the book dropped out of her hands as she turned to stiff lock. She threw everything into the porch and switched on the light. The little black book was still outside on the flagstone step. Mmh she thought as she looked at the moonlight touch its top corner. ‘Very Christabel’ she stepped out and picked up the book conscious she was lifting it over the threshold as creatures of the dark in old tales need to be carried into houses by consent.

A shower swept the London grime down the drain. Opening a bottle of wine she fed truculent cats and wandered through the old house switching on lamps to banish the gloom. The book lay on her dark oak table, the cover looked like an animals skin, scuffed and greasy with a hard dark stain on one corner. Ugh she thought and took a damp cloth to wipe the exterior. In the lamplight she opened the book again. Same spikey black writing but this time she saw a flat pocket in the inside back of the book. Like a small hidden flat compartment it was just a piece of card that covered the inside back cover but she lifted its edge. There were thin papers like receipts inside. Shaking the book the papers started to slide out. Papers with more numbers on them, like sort codes from banks and then an address.

24 Station Rd Chipping Norton. Oh well that’s nearby. I suppose to can drop it back round. Funny Mr Dandruff must have got the same train as me. There were names and oblongs drawn, a tree and what looked like a fence drawn round it with a star and a number. She couldn’t make any sense of it.

Not wishing to meet Mr Dandruff again she decided she would just put it through his letterbox the following day. The day dawned with a red sunrise painting the clouds. Caroline missed the beauty of the morning as her tired body tried to recoup her strength. She missed the ‘red sky in the morning shepherds warning’ It was 11 when, fortified with coffee, Caroline drove off with the black book on the passenger seat and let the little old car nose it’s way over the hills to Chipping Norton. She turned into a jumble of a street modern houses near an industrial estate but the road climbed to older houses, she pulled up. 24 was behind a high unkept hedge. The red brick Victorian villa had been pretty in its day but she was reminded of Mr Dandruff’s greasy coat, she could well imagine what the inside of that house was like.

The small iron gate creaked as she opened it. It didn’t look like anyone used that path to the house. She could see an untidy drive to the side of the house. She was thankful she wouldn’t have to speak to him. ‘Just shove the book in the letterbox and go.# She lifted the ornate letter box and tried to push the book through. It wouldn’t go in, bending she saw a piece of wood nailed across the opening on the inside of the door. Uuh, I suppose there’s a door on the side. She looked back at the road waiting at the end of the unused path, its gate half opened and then pushed past an over grown pyracanthas under what looked like a dining room window.

There was a small porch attached to the side of the house with a large wooden gate which seemed to lead to the back garden. The door didn’t have a letter box either . Exasperated she left the book propped up against the door and started to walk down the drive. A car turned slowly into the drive trapping her. Behind the wheel was the unmistakable balding Mr Dandruff. He stopped and looked at her. “ I’ve brought your book back, you dropped it in the tube last night and ..” the car door opened and the tall lean figure stepped out .. “I called you when you dropped it but you couldn’t hear me.” She was nervous now and looking for the path to the front of the house. “You opened it?” The voice was quiet but it held command.

“Well yes, I wanted to return it to you, I was looking for an address, I wasn’t being nosey.” “Nosey ... he stepped towards her.. “ it was your nose that touched my neck wasn’t it?” His eyes and part of his mouth slid into a smile that made her skin crawl.

“Oh I don’t know. Your book is on the doorstep, goodbye .”

“Not so fast , I can’t let you go,” he hesitated “ Without saying thank you of course. “ Caroline walked backwards. “It’s fine,” she sprinted down the path throwing herself into her car. She scrambled with the key and fumbled trying to get it into the ignition. The passenger door opened and the balding head leaned in.

” Don’t be like that I only wanted to thank you, that book is very valuable to me and I would have been lost without it. Wait stay there, let me at least give you something for your trouble. “

“No no really I don’t want anything “

“ Now now, I know I’m an old man but you’ve done me a great kindness please let me give you something in return. Wait there I will be back .. you don’t have to be afraid of me. “ He shut the car door and ambled back down the path. She hesitated , the key slid into the ignition but she didn’t turn it. She waited. Was he old ? He didn’t seem that old she leaned to look up the path, nothing. Oh well just leave it, she turned the key as she pushed to gear stick into first gear she stopped , it seems really rude to just drive off after he said he wanted to repay the kindness . She looked again at the red bricks, the dark windows and flaking door. She switched off the engine. Breathing out she got out of the car and walked to the gate . “Hello?” The house had no neighbours, despite it being in a busy town it seemed to sit alone. She pushed the side door. The house was still. On the floor was the notebook . It’s yours.. the page scrawled in black ink.

A small, still living pool of blood led to the corner of the book from a greasy, balding, dandruffed head. Around her Caroline saw bags. Black plastic bags filled with money. She lifted her head and saw the tree with moved earth above it and a fence around

Secure storage.

She picked up the black book, understanding his gift