Charters and Caldicott Read Online Free PDF

Caldicott. You found my body. This is Jenny Beevers.’ She hung up.
    Caldicott replaced his own receiver slowly and stared at it pensively for a moment before turning to Charters. ‘Could I persuade you to take a later Green Line bus, old chap?’
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CHAPTER 3
    Cuddles turned out to be a glorified hamburger joint, furnished with ledges instead of tables and the sort of high, narrow stools designed to discourage customers from lingering. The lighting was harsh, the colours blinding and the walls and floors chipped and peeling. Charters and Caldicott, had passed happily through the colourful, noisy, polyglot crowds of the Earl’s Court Road, reminded, perhaps, of some Far Eastern bazaar long ago, but in the doorway of Cuddles they came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the plastic squalor that lay before them.
    â€˜Good God!’ Caldicott gasped at Charters, appalled.
    Charters, determinedly up-to-date in the face of Caldicott’s helplessness, said caustically, ‘What did you expect in Earl’s Court? Ann Hathaway’s Tea Rooms?’ and looked round for Jenny Beevers. A young woman, sitting with a Coke and the evening paper at one of the ledges, glanced up and smiled at them. They hesitated, not recognising her immediately, then went over and introduced themselves with their usual punctiliousness. Regardless alike of the tawdriness of their surroundings and the smirks of the mainly punkish clientele, they raised their hats, shook hands and exchanged greetings, creating a small oasis of civilisation where none had existed before. These formalities completed, Caldicott perched himself on an absurdly high stool beside Jenny while Charters approached the service hatch.
    â€˜A pot of tea for two, please,’ barters ordered, ruthlessly cutting into the two assistants’ private conversation. When he rejoined the others he was carrying, with immense distaste, a small plastic tray upon which reposed two Styrofoam beakers of tea, two paper sacks of sugar, two mini-cartons of cream and two plastic spatula devices for stirring.
    â€˜That’s very noble of Charters,’ said Caldicott. ‘He could have got a waitress to do that. Jenny, you’re sure you wouldn’t like something before Charters sits down? A muffin, perhaps?’
    Charters, now wise in the ways of Cuddles, snorted. ‘Don’t be absurd old fellow. This isn’t Gunter’s, you know. And he accuses me of being out of touch with the world,’ he said to Jenny, putting the tray down on the ledge and taking the stool on the other side of her.
    â€˜I shouldn’t have dragged you into such a dump but I couldn’t think of anywhere else,’ said Jenny. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know London very well.’
    â€˜You live where these days?’ Caldicott asked.
    â€˜New York. And I didn’t go back to Hong Kong as often as a good daughter should have done. The last time, of course, was for the funeral.’
    â€˜We were both so sorry to hear about Jock’s death.’
    â€˜Yes. I wrote a little appreciation in The Times , you know. Perhaps you’d like to read it?’ Charters fumbled once more in his wallet but was again thwarted.
    â€˜A friend of my father showed it to me. I was very touched.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    Jenny turned to Caldicott who was having trouble opening his customer-proof mini-carton of cream. ‘Let me do that.’
    â€˜Thanks awfully. Never been able to get the hang of these things.’
    â€˜Oh, it’s just a knack,’ said Charters airily, thrusting his thumb through the foil lid of his own carton and spurting cream all over the place. While he fumed and mopped himself up, Jenny calmly poured cream into Caldicott’s tea.
    â€˜You know, looking at you now, Jenny, I don’t see how we could possibly have mistaken anyone else for you, even after all these years,’ said Caldicott. ‘I’m mightily