The Detective's Daughter

56

Monday, 24 January 2011

‘She’s not here. Can I take a message?’ The mobile phone line was breaking up. Jackie was patient, knowing better than to offend a potential client. So far she had made out that the man was Colin something and wanted Stella about plaster. She circled ‘plaster’ on her pad: that must be wrong.

‘It’s ter-rib-ly hard to hear YOU!’ she bellowed into the mouthpiece.

‘…she said core… crrr if I thore… of… anythi… crrrrrrrrrrmembered… crrrrrrrrrr about crrrrrrrrrr… okesmith’s… crrrrrrrrrrncle… childhood crrrrr… freh… I told crrrrrrrrrr… poli… crrrrrrrrrr… Miss Darnell wanted… crrrrrrrr r…’

The line went dead. Jackie replaced the receiver. If it was urgent he would call back.

‘Where was that from, Australia?’ Beverly the admin assistant was kneeling on the carpet surrounded by filing.

Stella had said she would be in mid-morning after meeting a new client. Jackie had found no record of this client on Stella’s calendar – the flouting of a Clean Slate rule Stella was hot on – and it was now afternoon. Stella had not come to the office for days. She was, Jackie believed, losing interest in her business. Grief did funny things. In the meantime Clean Slate had to carry on.

The man was probably a time-waster. Many people badgered either herself or Stella with questions over several calls and then went with another company. The message provided her with an excuse to find out what Stella was doing.

‘Earth to Jackie?’

‘It was for Stella.’ Jackie pulled up Stella’s mobile on the quick-dial menu.

‘Stella rang.’ Beverly was banging metal cabinet drawers like sporadic gunfire as she filed.

‘When?’

‘Ages ago, she said to say she’s working from home and not to disturb. I was going to tell you.’

‘In your own time, I’m guessing?’

‘She’s not here, so it’s obvious she’s not coming. Time for tea?’ Beverly slammed another drawer.

Jackie watched the young woman leave the room to fill the kettle in the toilets. She did at least make a good cup of tea.

The phone rang. A pub on King Street liked Stella’s quote and wanted a cleaner tomorrow. Jackie spent the next hour arranging a contract and reorganizing the rota because Stella never said no to new business.

She was in bed when she remembered she had not recorded the plasterer’s call in the day book or rung Stella. It was five to ten but Stella worked late. Or once upon a time she had; nowadays Jackie had no idea what Stella did.

There was no reply on the landline so she rang Stella’s mobile and, apologizing, left a voicemail consisting of: Colin, plaster, uncle and childhood. It was the epitome of the incomplete message she was training out of Beverly, but Stella might understand.

Jackie Makepeace could have no idea of the importance of these words or that by the time Stella heard the message, it would be too late.