The Birthday Present Read Online Free PDF Page A

don’t ask  . . .’ He grinned as he produced a ring, set with a delicate opal. ‘Old Chalky, remember him? This is his wife’s, no less! He said she was always losing it, so now she’s lost it for good! Poor cow’s probably looking everywhere for the damned thing!’
    Both men laughed while Baby felt in his trouser pocket and produced the last item – a silver snuff box decorated with gold leaf. ‘Know that big house at the end of Elm Tree Avenue? We done it once before a few years back.’
    Alan nodded, turning the box over in his hands. Of course he remembered. He remembered every job he’d ever done. ‘Number thirty-one, Elm Tree Avenue  . . . that was a piece of cake!’ He smiled wistfully. He’d got in through a back window and let Baby in at the back door. No way the fat Baby could ever get through a window! They’d done well from that house – candlesticks, a miniature, several leather-bound books and a clock. In and out in less than ten minutes! They were good together, him and Baby. No doubt about that, until the missus got wind of their antics and put her foot down. Women! Not that it stopped them but it cramped their style  . . . and then they were nicked and that was it. Alan sighed as he ran his fingers over the carefully wrought design. A lovely snuff box. Worth a bit, that was.
    Now Baby worked alone. Had to force the locks. Didn’t trust anyone else. Still it was a partnership in one way. Baby did the thieving and Alan hid the stuff for him until it was safe to sell on. Hopefully, once Rose was fixed up with a bloke, Alan could get back to work.
    Baby said, ‘I done the place again. Reckoned they wouldn’t expect a return visit!’ He laughed. ‘I bet that took the smile off the colonel’s face!’
    Colonel Brian Fossett, recently returned to civilian life after a successful career fighting on several fronts and being decorated twice for gallantry. Alan and Baby called him ‘The Big Cheese’. Alan recalled the fuss the colonel had made after the first robbery and the way the police had rallied their resources because Colonel Fossett’s brother was a magistrate. Not that they’d caught anyone.
    Alan grinned. Exciting times! He caught Baby’s eyes and the fat man shook his head.
    ‘It’s not the same without you, Al.’
    ‘Don’t I know it!’ Carefully he placed the new stuff in the sack and rolled it up, climbed up and, balancing precariously on the armchair, returned it to its hiding place.
    Baby slipped a couple of notes into his hand. ‘There you are! Two quid.’
    ‘Thanks.’ His share was 20 per cent and he was worth it. If suspicion ever fell on Baby, which it sometimes did, the police could search his digs and find nothing incriminating. Alan trusted Baby. He had to.
    ‘You’re welcome.’
    Alan would tell Rose the usual story about the win on the gee-gees. He didn’t know if she believed him but she didn’t ask any awkward questions so he was prepared to let sleeping dogs lie.
    Baby heaved himself to his feet. ‘Coming for a pint?’
    ‘Not arf!’
    ‘The Queen’s Head?’
    ‘Anywhere but The White bloomin’ Horse!’

Two
    Monday night was always dull at The White Horse but Rose fancied that those who did turn up came because they wanted to hear her sing. Basically it was a public house which wanted to be something more – something closer to the supper rooms which provided entertainment with their meals. The White Horse, however, did not serve food but did offer the occasional entertainment. This took place on a small dais situated in one corner of the room and entirely lacking in drapes, lights or any kind of decoration. Alongside it was a piano in need of tuning, and much of the so-called entertainment took place to a background of chatter and laughter from a mainly indifferent audience.
    Rose, however, chose to imagine that her songs brought a little spark of gaiety and a touch of glamour to the evening. The comedian and the monologue man only