There is something about old luggage that really appeals to me. Yesterday my father gave me a suitcase that he had stored away. It was the case he took when he left home as a youngster to travel to another city and start his training as a pharmacist, around 1944.
I have filled it with a collection of neck ties - the raw materials for the braided rugs I make. These ties are collected in charity shops: pre-loved special occasions in patterned silk. They look right at home in a young man's first suitcase don't they?

Here is the final part of Chapter 4:

The next morning Bill went in to work early. He hadn’t slept well. Deciding to attack his paperwork, he started with the pile left in his in-tray during the week. About half way through he pulled out the pink slips, the ones his PA used to record non-urgent phone messages. Flicking through them quickly, checking for anything needing action, Bill glanced again at one near the bottom. On it was written “Wanda” crossed out, then “Linda” with two question marks beside it. Then: “Personal. Lady will call again!!!” Obviously Sue trying to be funny. A lady caller? It had to be her. It was dated last Friday 4.30 pm and there was a return number. Bill immediately rang down to despatch and booked a vehicle to be ready in ten minutes.

He walked into the gallery just in time to see Rhona, Paul and Philip shrieking in gales of laughter, completely enveloped in the big banner photograph they were trying to move to the other wall of the gallery. At least he thought that was what they were up to. By the time he got down the steps the three of them had collapsed on the floor under the canvas in senseless paroxysms. The gallery was a mess, with packing cases and bits of palm fronds everywhere.

Bill waited until the shrieking died away and all that could be heard were a few exhausted groans before he made his presence felt. He realised he could have been anyone walking in and none of them seemed too bothered.

“Christ Philip”, he said loudly, “Hell of a party. You’re still going strong the morning after.” Three faces emerged from various strategic points on the floor. Rhona was laughing so hard she had tears running down her cheeks and Paul was leaning across her wheezing like an advanced case of emphysema. Philip crawled out, being the first to come to his senses. He cleared his throat as he dusted down his trousers. “Just the man. Give us a hand Bill. Neither of those two clowns are tall enough to help me fix this above the windows. We need a bit of daylight in here.” He was wandering about as he talked, looking like the lead character in a farce. Now he prodded his shoe at Rhona’s leg. “Come on, shift yourself.  You and your side-kick are in the way. Good thing we packed the glass away first Paul. Imagine the insurance claim.”

Bill had been trying to catch her eye but Rhona wouldn’t look at him. He gave Philip a lift with the banner and held it clear while he was on the ladder. They had the thing fixed in no time. While they were occupied with that, order was being restored around them by the other two. Bill came straight to the point while Rhona and Paul were dragging packing cases out to the back of the gallery.

“Phil lend me your Wonder Woman for a few minutes will you?

“Oh really?” Philip was studying him with a disbelieving expression. “She’s not your type is she? Tell you what, you’d better hurry up and do it just to save me.” He wasn’t laughing now and Bill noticed he sounded unusually flippant. He started to explain.

but Philip waved it away. “Stick to the shortened version. We’ve got to open this place at midday and I want the circus gone by then.”

Rhona came with Bill when he called out to her, slapping the dust off her jersey and jeans. She was still flushed but sobering by the time he sat her down in the courtyard and handed her the pink slip with her message on it saying “I only just saw it this morning. Do you still want me to call you? “

She smiled with a big open expression and handed the slip back, nodding.

“Done. Now you have to get back so… by the way, your friend, Charlie, I met him last night. Tell him his tip was a winner.”

He ruffled her hair and dashed off, waving back to her as he went.

Bill rang Rhona as soon as he got in from work that night and told her briskly how surprised he was to see her the other night. “The art school training would help I suppose.”

There was a silence on the line and a slow breath during which Bill asked why she had rung on Friday.

“To tell you I wouldn’t come to you on Monday but I would be at the gallery if you wanted to come to the opening. I didn’t know you knew Philip see.” Her voice on the phone reminded him of a Marlene Deitrich recording he had.

 “Why not Monday?”

“Because I wasn’t ready.  Because….”

He swallowed hard in the ensuing silence and asked her what she had decided about her home situation. She told him her daughter was away at a sleep over the following weekend - a sufficiently encouraging reply for him to ask her out to dinner.

Later, while Gracie was changing after netball practice, Charlie called in with Rhona’s cheque for the gallery opening. He was much amused, watching her dancing around the kitchen waving it in the air. Eventually she sobered enough to thank him.

After extricating himself from her enthusiastic embraces he explained he wasn’t staying,  but wanted to know how the morning went.  Rhona was so animated. It was a long time since he had seen her in such high spirits. She said “Philip is so lovely, just as you said. He’s always so considerate. Oh and Bill called in. He said to tell you thanks for the tip. What was that about?”

“Just a sporting conversation we had the other night. I’m glad it worked out.” His glance drew pointed attention to her tired looking cardigan. “You’d better get out and spend some of that cheque on yourself hadn’t you?”

Rhona pulled the offending knitwear around herself and made a coy face. “I never pictured you as Cupid before Charlie.”

“Don’t be cheeky.” He sobered her enough for her to listen to his advice to open her own bank account. He told her firmly to keep the details private.

Rhona screwed up her nose at that. “Isn’t that a bit dramatic? John wouldn’t even notice an amount like this.”

Charlie sighed “Just look ahead a little way honey. You need to learn to take care of yourself.” It was timely advice.