Read Darkest Before Dawn for Free Online Page B

he could write to Seraphina as soon as supper was over. He could describe his fishing trip to the lake; he could make a point of fighting his way through the briars and brambles and discover in what state the house had been left. Yes, he would do that.
    Toby headed for the stationmaster’s office. It was only polite to tell Mr Tolliver that he was leaving now even though he was not actually on duty. He poked his head round the office door. Mr Tolliver’s large booted feet were neatly crossed at the ankle and lodged on the desk, whilst the rest of him, eyes firmly closed and mouth agape, clearly dead to the world, was slumped in his leather chair, which was balanced precariously on two legs.
    Wickedly, Toby cleared his throat in the manner of Mr Fellowes, the regional director. In one swift, though horribly uncoordinated gesture, the stationmaster’s feet – and those of the chair – descended sharply to the floor and Mr Tolliver surged upright. His tiny gold-rimmed glasses were so crooked that only one eye could see through the lenses and he appeared to be trying to swallow half of his walrus moustache. He was still trying to straighten his tie, button his jacket and prevent the chair from falling backwards when he recognised Toby. ‘You young bugger!’ he said wrathfully. ‘Tryin’ to get my job, are you? Thought you’d scare me so bad I’d die of an apoplexy . . . well, not this time, you young devil. Why couldn’t you come round the desk and wake me gentle, like?’
    â€˜With a kiss?’ Toby said innocently. He had just been thinking about Sleeping Beauty so the comment came readily to his lips. Mr Tolliver gave a reluctant grin, unbuttoned his jacket again and sat down in his chair.
    â€˜No, not with a kiss, you horrible little heathen,’ he said reprovingly. ‘With a gentle touch on my shoulder or – or a quiet word.’
    â€˜I only cleared my throat,’ Toby pointed out virtuously. ‘I don’t see why you’ve got in such a taking, honest I don’t. And I only popped in to tell you I’m off now. It is my day off and there’s a lake . . . it’s such a grand day I thought I might try for a trout or two.’
    Mr Tolliver glanced towards the window through which dusty sunshine slanted. ‘Aye, when I were your age nothing would have kept me hanging round the station on such a day,’ he said, with all his customary generosity. ‘Get the missus to put you up a few sandwiches and an apple or two. You’re a good lad so I guess I needn’t ask if you’ve planted out all the chrysanths.’
    â€˜Thanks, Mr Tolliver,’ Toby said gratefully. ‘An’ I’ve finished the chrysanthemums; I spaced ’em out so they’ve gone from one end of the bed to the other. They’ll make a grand show when they’re all in bloom in a couple o’ weeks.’
    â€˜Off wi’ you then. Good luck wi’ the fishin’!’
    Harry was making his way to work through the early morning streets. To his own secret surprise, he found he enjoyed his work at the warehouse. To be sure, there had been some initial unpleasantness from one or two members of the staff under him because they resented the fact that their old boss had been sacked. Harry, however, had recognised that the sacking of Herbie Hughes had been unavoidable once the owner had discovered that the man was a crook. Mr Hughes had had a neat scheme going whereby he had somehow managed to sell off large quantities of goods and put the money in his own pocket. If he had behaved a little less greedily he would probably have continued to get away with it, but unfortunately with every successful swindle he had grown more self-confident, more sure that no one would ever question the accounts which he handed in.
    It had started long ago when a case of tinned salmon had slipped off the hoist and burst open upon the