The Locksmith by Linda Calvey (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

know how much that place cost us? We want the best for ya, so why ruin it every single time?’

‘Archie, don’t yell at him,’ Ruby ran to the doorway.

‘Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not my dad!’ George shouted back. Same old argument. George was right. They weren’t his parents, but who else did he have? George barged past Ruby, almost knocking her over. Archie turned and tried to follow him but Ruby barred his way.

‘Cool down. Go for a run or ’ave a shower. We’ll speak to him later, together.’

Archie nodded without saying a word. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair.

‘What are we goin’ to do about him?’ was all he said, and Ruby didn’t really have an answer.

‘George’ll come round. He’s just findin’ his feet. He’ll calm down and we’ll find him a better school. Maybe that place weren’t right for him . . .’ Her voice was soothing though her heart was beating fast. She wasn’t even sure she believed what she was saying, but she had to calm the situation down. She felt agitated and confused. The same old thoughts went round her mind. Was she to blame? Had she done enough for her little brother? Again, there were no easy answers.

Archie looked down at his wife’s face and must’ve read her thoughts because he pulled her towards him. ‘We’ll speak tonight,’ he said, ‘and Ruby . . .’

‘Yes, Archie?’

‘You’ve done nuthin’ wrong. Nuthin’.’

Ruby gave her husband a rueful smile. If only I believed that was true, she thought. If only.

Something was wrong, deeply wrong, with her little brother, and she had no idea how to make it right.

CHAPTER 33

The Albanian deal had come off, and the shipment had long-since arrived in Glasgow, netting Ruby and Archie a cool million. A new deal had been struck on the back of the success of the first one, an even larger shipment, but this time the cocaine would come to Spain to pass on to a Middle Eastern connection.

Ruby and the family had returned to Spain after finding George yet another school. She sincerely hoped that this one was a better place for him. She’d considered bringing him home with them, finding him a local school, but George had been adamant he wanted to stay in England. He didn’t particularly want to go to the new place, but he’d finally relented when he realised the only way he would get to stay was if he went to the school.

With George in England, Cathy at school and Archie out for the day, Ruby had the house to herself for a change. Not one to let a moment go to waste, she figured she would check in with Maria about the family dinner they were planning for next week. Lloyd would be back and she wanted to do something special for him.

Maria was her favourite amongst the staff. Ruby liked to keep an eye on everyone. She wanted her staff to be happy working for her. Perhaps it was her upbringing, the old-fashioned values instilled in her to look after others, or perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t grow up with staff or privilege and so saw her maid as a person rather than just as her worker. After walking through the villa, Ruby tracked Maria to the bedroom where she was hanging some of Ruby’s clothes.

‘Maria, about the menu we discussed, I was thinking instead of mango we could use raspberries. What do you think?’

At the lack of response from Maria, Ruby looked closer at her maid. Maria’s face was tight, her usual joyful expression absent. Whatever was going on, Ruby knew that something wasn’t right.

‘Maria, are you OK?’ Ruby said, fiddling with an earring as she sat in front of her dressing table.

The maid started as if she’d been lost in thought.

‘Yes, I’m . . . I’m fine,’ the woman said but she was avoiding Ruby’s gaze and staring at the floor now.

‘Maria, what’s troublin’ ya? Perhaps I can help. Look, give me a hand with this earring will ya? I can’t seem to untangle it.

The earring was a delicate gold design strung with tiny diamonds.

Maria walked over but she seemed reluctant, not at all her usual friendly, helpful self. ‘Ah yes, I see. It’s got caught on one of the strings. I can fix this for you,’ she said, but as she worked to untangle it, Ruby noticed her hands were shaking.

‘There’s somethin’ wrong, I know there is,’ Ruby said gently. ‘Please let me help ya. Is it your mum?’

Maria had confided in Ruby that her mother was very ill.

‘Mrs Willson,’ she stammered.

‘Call me Ruby,’ she replied, looking back at the woman who had shrunk back from her, the earring still clasped in her hand.

‘What is it, Maria?’ Ruby asked softly. ‘What’s wrong?’

The girl looked terrified now. Still refusing to meet Ruby’s eyes, Maria whispered, ‘I can’t tell you. I can’t. I don’t know what they’ll do to me, or my mother . . .’

Ruby felt the air shift in the room. Every sense was on high alert. ‘Who are ya talkin’ about? You know you can tell me anythin’.’

Maria started to cry. She wiped away the tears almost fiercely.

‘I can’t help ya unless I know what’s goin’ on. Are you in trouble?’

‘I— I— I know something,’ the maid stammered at last.

Ruby blinked. ‘What, Maria? What do you know?’

The Spanish woman ran a hand across her lips, then started to pace up and down the room. ‘I overheard them . . .’

‘Who, Maria? What’s the matter? It’s OK, I promise it’ll all be OK.’ Ruby was really concerned now. Maria was acting very strangely.

‘My boyfriend and his friends, I heard them speaking about you and your family . . . I was cooking supper for them last week in my flat, and they talked. They thought I couldn’t understand because they were talking in their own language but I know much more than they realise.’

‘Which language were they speakin’ in?’ Ruby asked quietly, the thud of intuition now sounding in her mind.

‘Albanian