The Locksmith by Linda Calvey (top 5 books to read TXT) 📗

haggling over camisoles and bags of peaches, the sound of the stallholders hawking their wares, the passers-by and the smell of Caribbean spices mingling with it all. It was like a hive and the stallholders and customers were like the bees, buzzing around a flower, all looking for the same bit of nectar.

Just then, as Ruby started to feel at peace for the first time since losing her friend, the local troublemaker Freddie Harris stepped out in front of her, blocking her way. Freddie was a mate of Bobby’s, though Ruby could never work out why her brother spent any time with him. He was a wide boy, a Jack the Lad who boasted about doing jobs for the blaggers and crime bosses. He thought he was sharp, but Ruby thought he was a loser, doing other peoples’ crooked jobs and thinking he was something special as a result. He even looked like a weasel, with greasy brown hair permanently slicked back, a neck-full of gold chains and expensive trainers. Ruby was not impressed.

‘What d’ya want?’ she said impatiently. ‘I’ve got things to do and I don’t want to be bothered by the likes of you.’ Ruby could never bring herself to be nice to Freddie. She saw him as a snake, ready to strike. He was always on the take, borrowing money from good-hearted Bobby and ‘forgetting’ to pay him back.

‘That’s not very friendly. Ain’t no way to say ’ello, eh, Ruby Green Eyes,’ he said, his voice oily, his manner reptilian. He always stood too close, and Ruby had to fight the urge to push him away.

‘Don’t call me that!’ Ruby hit out at him, a course of action that only made him grin. She couldn’t let him see he’d riled her. He loved the conflict, loved winding people up, especially her, and Ruby didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She sighed to herself. She knew the only way to get rid of him was to listen to whatever he had to say. She could tell by looking at him that he wanted to deliver some news, something unpleasant, most likely. She just had to wait it out then get on with her day.

‘Tell me, then,’ Ruby said, smiling at him through gritted teeth.

‘Tell ya what?’ Freddie looked over his shoulder a few times, always wondering who might be coming up behind him.

‘Tell me whatever it is you’re so desperate to tell me.’ Ruby tried to keep the smile on her face but it was hard. Freddie was enough to provoke anyone.

‘All right, then, I’ll let you into a little secret . . .’ He leaned even closer. She could smell the beer on his breath and it revolted her but she stood her ground, waiting for the bombshell to land. Freddie was loving this. He was all smiles as he said, ‘People round ’ere are sayin’ a few things . . .’

‘Oh, and what might those things be, Freddie?’ Ruby replied with wide eyes, looking as innocent of the murderous thoughts in her head as she possibly could.

‘Oh, it’s good, believe me, Ruby Green Eyes, it’s really good – though not for you and your pikey family,’ he leered. His eyes flicked away, always just avoiding her gaze. Oh yes, Freddie was really enjoying his moment of power.

‘What are people sayin’? Spit it out, Freddie, I haven’t got all day. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t call my family pikeys.’ Ruby was rapidly becoming weary of this game. She didn’t care to spend any more time talking to this weasel than she really needed to, especially if he was going to insult her and her family.

Freddie stepped back as if in shock, though it was clearly part of his twisted performance. ‘Don’t ya know what everyone’s sayin’, Ruby Green Eyes?’ he said with exaggerated concern.

‘No, I don’t, Freddie. Why don’t you be the one to tell me. I can see you’re dyin’ to.’ This time Ruby stared at him until his eyes were forced to meet her gaze. She knew this always rattled him. She wasn’t scared of this loser. Ruby could handle herself where Freddie was concerned.

Now she’d stolen his thunder, Freddie almost reluctantly imparted his information. ‘They’re sayin’ it was either someone who was jealous of them, or it was Gypsies who dobbed in a friend of ours, a friend of ours who is looking at doing ten years for blagging . . .’

Ruby instantly realised Bobby’s repellent mate was talking about Sarah’s dad. ‘What are ya on about? I don’t ’ave time for this,’ Ruby cut him off. She tried to push past him but he grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving. Freddie sensed his target had hit home.

‘Oh yeah, people are sayin’ it was pikeys who done for Mike. Now, d’you know any pikeys who might be jealous of all their pretty things?’ Freddie stared straight at her.

Ruby didn’t back off though. She squared up to Freddie, anger building up inside her. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’ she said, but she already knew. Even though her family had nothing to do with the arrest, suspicion would fall on anyone with her background. ‘My family might not be crooks, but they’re not grasses either. Now you know as well as I do, Freddie Harris, that my family don’t ’ave a jealous bone in their bodies, and, yes, we are Gypsies, so bloody what? We’re proud of our roots, and we don’t care what people say around ’ere because we done nuthin’ wrong.’

‘That’s not what people are sayin’. Everyone round ’ere thinks your family are the grasses, so you’d better watch out. I’m doin’ ya a favour warnin’ ya.’

Freddie was now smiling widely, like the Cheshire cat. He licked his lips as if he could taste her words. With a small shrug of his bony shoulders, Freddie swaggered off, pausing to glance back at her before starting to whistle. Ruby’s blood was boiling. Her morning, which had been strange anyway without Sarah, was now completely ruined.