Shadows of the Workhouse

Bank. Wake up. I want my money.”
    Chummy jerked herself upright. “I’m beginning to think the police have to be told because of this business of withholding the course.”
    “The what?”
    “The course of evidence, of course.”
    “You’re not making sense.”
    “Yes I am. You’re not listening.”
    Cynthia was carefully tucking her £200 down her bra. “I think you mean the course of justice.”
    “That’s what I said.”
    “No you didn’t. You said the course of evidence.”
    “Well, same thing, and it’s an offence.”
    “What is?”
    “Holding the evidence, old bean. And it’s not allowed.”
    “You mean withholding the evidence.”
    “That’s what I said.”
    “No you didn’t. You said holding it.”
    “Look here, this is going round in circles. Anyway it’s my turn.” Trixie picked up a card from the pack. “So you reckon we’ve got to get the police in again?”
    “Yes, because of obstructing, old thing.”
    “No you don’t. You want to get the police in again because you fancy that policeman.”
    “I don’t. Don’t you dare.” Chummy gulped down her sherry and went bright red.
    “Yes you do. You’re sweet on him. I’ve seen you go all coy and giggly when he comes to the house.”
    “You’re a regular shower. You’ve no right to come out with whoppers like that, you gumboil, you.”
    Poor Chummy looked as if she were on the verge of tears, so Cynthia came to her rescue.
    “You’re just stirring it up again, Trixie. You haven’t looked at your card yet. Turn it over.”
    Trixie did so, and gave a howl of anguish. “I’m ruined. I’m bankrupt. This isn’t fair. Make repairs on all your houses. I shall have to sell. Give me another drink. I’ve got to think about this one.” She took another mug of sherry and another chocolate.
    “I’ll take Mayfair and Park Lane off you at half-price,” I said magnanimously.
    “No you won’t. I’m not selling at half-price.”
    “You’ve no option.”
    “That’s what it is – obtion.” Chummy was obviously thinking deeply, as she gazed into her mug. “Obtion – the course of justice. And it’s an obtion, and you mustn’t do it.”
    “There’s no such thing as an obtion.”
    “Yes there is, and you mustn’t obtion the justice of the course. I know it. My father told me. Someone he knew obtioned the justice course, and I can’t remember what happened, but it happened.”
    “Well thanks for nothing. A lot of help, I’m sure. Look, I’m going to auction these. Does anyone want these priceless properties? I’ll take eighty per cent. You won’t get a better chance. All right then, seventy per cent, I’m not going to sink to half price, I’ll have to do something else.”
    At that moment Chummy’s legs got the cramp. They were too long to be kept in a confined space, and with a groan she stretched out, knocking the board for six.
    “Well, that’s that,” said Trixie with satisfaction. “I’m the clear winner.”
    “No you’re not. You haven’t made repairs to your houses.”
    “I don’t have to.”
    “Yes you do.”
    “Now don’t you two start that again. Help me to clear up the board and the pieces. Chummy doesn’t look as if she’s going to be much help. There’s a drop left in the bottom of this second bottle. Do you want to share it between you? I’ve had enough.”
    We did. Cynthia was shaking Chummy.
    “Look, this is my bed. You go to your own bed.”
    Suddenly Trixie grabbed Cynthia’s arm. “Oh my God! I’ve just had a dreadful thought.”
    “What?” we said in chorus.
    “Chummy’s on first call tonight.”
    “Never! Oh no! What’s to be done?”
    The three of us gazed at Chummy stretched full length, smiling sweetly and fast asleep on Cynthia’s bed. We looked at each other, and looked again at the sleeping form.
    Cynthia spoke. “I’ll take first call tonight. There’s nothing else for it. Trixie was out last night, so I’ll take it if a call comes in. I’ve had less than you two anyway. We might as well leave Chummy here, and I’ll sleep in her room. We must throw away these bottles and open the windows to let in some fresh air, in case one of the Sisters comes up here tomorrow. Go and open the windows on the landing, at both ends, and in the bathroom. We’ve got to get a good draught blowing through.”
    Thankful for Cynthia’s common sense I went to open the windows. The cold air hit me like a pain, and my head began to reel. The window flew out of my grasp