Mirror Man by Jacques Kat (ereader for textbooks txt) 📗

to get ready, almost tripping over as I pulled on my jeans and ran downstairs for a quick breakfast. Mum was singing while making tea and toast.

She looked over her shoulder as I came in. ‘Morning, sleepy head. I was just going to come and wake you up.’

I froze on the threshold. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in such a good mood.

She raised an eyebrow at me in one of the mirrors. ‘You’ll be late if you don’t get a move on, so sit down and stop gawping.’

After a mug of tea and four rounds of buttery toast, I went to work via the shortcut through the orchard, keeping my head down. I had a lot of thinking to do, but I couldn’t shake the vision of The Suit from my head. He’d been watching me as I looked in the safe. I knew I had to get a glimpse of what was in there.

The bell dinged above the door as I walked into Claude’s Antiques. Claude didn’t jump when I entered this time. Whatever had caused his anxiety had apparently faded away. He was busy cleaning a new vase on a small round table.

‘Morning, Mr Phillips,’ I said cheerfully, hoping he hadn’t noticed I was five minutes late.

‘Morning, John-Michael, how are you feeling today?’ he asked.

‘I’m good, thank you. How are you?’

He ignored my question. ‘I hear you tried to help that man who got knocked off his scooter yesterday.’

I shrugged. ‘I talked to him, that’s all.’

‘Well, still more than most would have done, anyhow.’ He threw the duster down, then went to his desk and opened his diary to go over the day’s appointments. ‘Right, best get on. No time for chit-chatting yet,’ he said without looking up.

‘Yes, Mr Phillips,’ I said.

He seemed to have recovered from his shock, but I still wanted to keep an eye on him. I knew he wouldn’t tell me if I asked him outright; he was always careful with the questions he answered. If he didn’t want you to know something, he ignored it. But I had eyes and ears; there were plenty of things I could do to find out what was going on, and it would take my mind off everything else happening in my life if I could focus solely on another matter.

I didn’t have to wait long to catch a snippet of something useful. Towards dinner time, I heard Mr Phillips on the phone. He had his back to me, but I stayed hidden in the doorway, just in case.

‘Yes, yes,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s about the Durs Egg. I need to shift them sharpish…’

A Pause.

‘I thought so, too, but I’ve been let down and no one else has got the money. You must know someone…’

‘Of course, they’re secure in the safe. No one’s getting in there without a key.’

What on earth is a Durs Egg? I wondered. Whatever it was, I was sure it was the reason for Mr Phillips’s bizarre behaviour—and maybe even The Suit’s sudden arrival too.

And I had the perfect plan.

‘Okay, thanks. Bye now.’ I heard him place the handset down, then move in my direction. I quickly darted back to my workstation before he appeared in the doorway, looking over at me.

‘Ready for dinner, lad?’

I nodded and tidied up my space before following him to the kitchen.

Claude and I always had our dinner together. We would reminisce about his wife while he made us sandwiches; it helped to know we had both lost someone special.

‘What’s for dinner today, Mr Phillips?’ I asked as I sat at the small table.

‘Corned beef and mustard. Our favourite,’ he said as he buttered the bread.

‘Great. You know, I was just thinking about Mrs Phillips. Remember when she made us that rhubarb crumble, and we had to pretend we liked it?’ I laughed.

‘I do, lad.’ He laughed too. ‘I think she secretly knew, though; she never did make it again.’

‘I miss her,’ I said as he placed my dinner in front of me before sitting with his own.

‘Me too. Our breaks have never been the same since, have they?’

‘No, they were definitely a lot longer when she was around, and we were never short of biscuits, either.’

He laughed again.

‘Mr Phillips?’ I said as I chomped on my sandwich.

‘Yes, JC?’

I smiled. It was the first time he’d used JC since I’d asked him to—which then only made me feel bad for what I was about to do next.

‘I was wondering if maybe you wanted me to service your pocket watch? I’ve never done it for you before, and I’ve worked here for eight years now,’ I said.

Mr Phillips hummed and swallowed a mouthful of bread. ‘You might be right about that, son. Fine, you can service it.’ He placed his sandwich down, dusted his hands on his chest, then reached into his breast pocket. ‘Be careful with it, won’t you?’ he said as he placed it on the table for me.

‘Of course, I will,’ I told him as I, too, dusted my hands, then reached for it. What does he take me for? I take care of every watch I handle.

‘My grandfather gave it to me. It’s very precious, do you understand?’ he added.

‘I’ll take extra special care of it, Mr Phillips.’

‘Before you take it in the back, help me with the flail first. I need it on top of the counter. It’s being collected today.’

After I helped him move the flail, I got started on the next stage of my plan. I carefully opened the watch and used my tweezers to remove the brass key hidden inside. The key looked like it had been in the watch for a long time. It had to be a spare.

I wouldn’t be able to put the next stage of my plan into action until someone came into the shop. I needed Mr Phillips to be distracted so I could open the safe.

I serviced the watch while I waited, and an hour later, the bell above the door rang. I