The Angels’ Share

[port perran]

Part Ten

Jimmy enjoyed an excellent night's sleep then spent an hour or so in bed mulling over everything that he had happened the day before.
There had certainly been some amazing discoveries, especially the whiskies of such great vintage held in the warehouses at Tregonning and added to that was the enthusiasm and knowledge shared by both owners and staff members.

However, did Jimmy want to become involved? He fully expected Sir William to offer him some sort of job later in the day. It was an enticing prospect but one he hadn't even considered two days ago and after all, Jimmy has always liked to be his own man , free to do what he wanted when he wanted and never mind if a few rules were broken  along the way.

First though, was the thorny little problem of Big Bert to deal with. He hadn't expected Bert to act so quickly in trying to force an entry into the warehouse. Indeed, Jimmy had formulated a bit of a plan, hopefully with Bert's help, to perhaps get his hands on one of the barrels then bottle the spirit before selling it on. Bert's over zealous reaction had put an end to that idea.

Jimmy needed to be at St Agnes for two in the afternoon. That would mean catching a train from Wadebridge at 12.30 with  a change at Trepol Bay at 12-55 and that in turn would mean an 11-30 meeting with Bert in the Penny Farthing.

And so, at just before 11-30 Jimmy entered the pub. Big Bert was sitting at his usual table with two other men, one either side of him, whom Jimmy didn't recognise.
As Jimmy walked in the landlord glowered, Big Bert glowered and the two henchman stared, stoney faced.

Jimmy knew how to handle this sort of situation but, just to be on the safe side, he'd purchased a crate of a dozen bottles of Dimple Haig from the off license just up the road which he'd left just inside the pub's front door as insurance.

Bert was raging. He ranted at Jimmy, "Don't you ever treat me like that again you Scottish toerag. No one treats me like that. You said we could break into those warehouses and take what we wanted. You said there would be bottles of whisky just sitting there for the taking. I promised the landlord at The Railway Inn half a dozen bottles along with the landlord here. Neither of them are happy and I don't like letting people down".

Jimmy listened, unmoved "I said no such thing. You simply presumed that there would be bottles there. If you'd listened properly you'd have known that I was checking the place out and devising a plan that would be of benefit to the two of us. You, however, went your own sweet way and decided to wade in anyway".

"I don't care what you say", roared Bert, "I just want my whisky. You'd better sort something out or my two boys here will be after you and you wouldn't want to mess with them. You'd better get me some whisky so that I don't have to let people down. I don't like letting folk down".

"You are being totally unreasonable" replied Jimmy, "I have no intention of working with you again. I have much more important business this afternoon, business that would have been beneficial to you and your friends but that's all forgotten now".

Jimmy got up and walked slowly to the door.
"Don't you walk out on me" yelled Bert, "No one ever walks out on me. If you keep walking you are going to regret it big time. Joe and Eric here will see to that. You get me my whisky now or you'll be in big trouble".

Jimmy kept on walking towards the door which he opened slowly and deliberately. He then looked over his shoulder, "Nice to do business with you Bert and by the way, just so that you aren't out of pocket, there's a little something for your trouble just inside the front door. Goodbye"

Jimmy didn't expect to hear from Big Bert again.

He made his way to the station arriving just as a rather decrepit looking T9 class locomotive drew in with two suburban carriages.
The train made it's way toward Trepol Bay where it arrived at 12-55.

Jimmy just had time to change trains before an ex GW prarie tank arrived with the train to St Agnes which would be reached at 13-20 leaving plenty of time to wander over to the distillery where he arrived in good time to meet Sir William.


The train for St Agnes departs Trepol Bay with Jimmy safely aboard

[Chris in Prague]

Lovely to see Trepol Bay, again. A very nice bonus to the story.

[crewearpley40]

Agree there. And a lovely photo

[cornish yorkie]

Lovely to see Trepol Bay, again. A very nice bonus to the story.

Very much agreed
  stay safe regards Derek

[port perran]

Part Eleven

Jimmy arrived at the distillery in good time, making his way directly to reception where he introduced himself to Mary, the receptionist.

Mary was, of course, expecting the visitor and immediately rang through to Sir William's office to report Jimmy's arrival.

"Bill will be down to meet you in about ten minutes" said Mary, smiling radiantly, "Please make yourself comfortable whilst you are waiting".

Jimmy sat down in one of two big leather armchairs. As he relaxed he noticed what looked like a boxed crate of whisky marked 'Urgent – Poppysire – Crown Hotel'. 
Where on earth is Poppyshire thought Jimmy. That's three consignments I've seen for delivery now. Two to places I don't know and the other to somewhere in Scotland.

Almost immediately Sir William walked in with outstretched hand to welcome Jimmy.

[Train Waiting]

Part Twelve


Young PC Bob Peel has an excellent vantage point inside the booking office at Silliness station, which enables him, over a cup of tea made by Shirley, the booking clerkess, to watch, unobserved, the persons joining and leaving trains.  Not that there are many trains nowadays and those that remain have few passengers.  Like many others, he has no idea why BR closed the busier Port Poppy station on the line to Sillybury.  Not only that, they closed the whole line as well.  As for the goods-only branch line from Harbour Junction to Port Poppy harbour, it sees little traffic and rumour has it the main reason it remains open is due to a request from the Admiralty, which uses it for occasional Royal Navy deployments to the island of Sonmel.

The single-carriage afternoon train from Tableford arrived in the station, propelled by its locomotive the short distance from Harbour Junction.  PC Peel knew that this sort of thing was unusual, but he had been told something similar also occurred in faraway Inverness.

Only a handful of passengers left the train and PC Peel recognised them all, apart from a very large middle-aged man wearing a mackintosh and a trilby, and carrying a suitcase in each hand.  The man had a military bearing and a bristling but well-trimmed moustache.  He also had the most enormous feet.  "Fine feet for the Force," muttered PC Peel.

"What did you say, Tanner?" asked Shirley.

"Sorry, Shirley, I was just remarking on that gentleman's feet," said PC Peel.

Accompanying the man was a small bird-like woman of a similar age, presumably his wife, but PC Peel was not one to take things for granted.

As the locomotive was at the front of the train, the departure of the return working to Tableford was only a few minutes after the train's arrival.

"Only three passengers for that one," said Shirley.

"That's right, Shirley; thanks for the tea," said PC Peel, "I'll see you for the evening train.





PC Peel walked down the ramp from the station, turned right below the 'Bridge to Nowhere' and, as he walked slowly towards the centre of the little town, he saw what he expected to see – the couple entering The Crown hotel.  "Well done, my lad," said PC Peel to himself, "You ought to be in the CID!"

As the couple entered The Crown, they received a warm welcome from a thirty-something man who was behind the reception desk.  "Mr and Mrs Murdoch?" enquired the man.

"Aye, that's us," said the large man, who was now looming above the desk.

"Welcome to The Crown and to Port Poppy," said the young man.  "My name is Graham Hill and I own the hotel.  I will do all I can to ensure you enjoy your stay.  If you would be kind enough to sign the register, I'll then show you to your room."

Graham watched as Mr Murdoch wrote, in remarkably small, neat handwriting for such a large man: 'Mrs and Mrs A Murdoch, The Police Station, Auchenshoogle.'

"Thank you very much," said Graham, "You are in a room overlooking the harbour as you requested when you made your reservation – Room One.  Dinner is served at seven and you will be made very welcome in the bar before then.  I'm rather proud of our range of whiskies."

"You'll enjoy that, Sandy," said Mrs Murdoch, her eyes twinkling with a smile.

"Aye, Ah wull that, Doris," said Sandy, "Ah wull that."

Graham smiled, after all he was running a business; a Scottish policeman who appeared to enjoy whisky was likely to be a good type of guest and Mrs Murdoch seemed a good sort.  "Let me show you to your room," he said, "And, please allow me to take one of your suitcases."

"Thank ye," said Sandy.

Graham picked up the nearest case and was surprised at how heavy it was; Mr Murdoch had carried both is with ease.  But, then again, he was a very big man.

Sandy and Doris chatted happily during their pre-dinner drinks in the bar and then thoroughly enjoyed dinner, served by a cheerful young waitress.  As they were having coffee, Graham appeared by their table, wearing his chef's whites, and politely enquired if they had enjoyed dinner.

"It was braw, thank ye," replied Sandy.

"Is this your first time in Port Poppy?" asked Graham.

"It's mine," said Doris, "But my husband spent some time here with the Royal Navy during the War."

"Aye, an' Ah wis billeted richt here in your hotel," said Sandy.  "And Ah must congratulate ye oan on having improved it greatly."

"Thank you very much," said Graham, happily.

"I think we'll jist hae anither wee dram and then retire," said Sandy, "It's been a lang day."

Graham pulled Doris' chair back for her and wished the pleasant couple a good evening.

[cornish yorkie]

  
 Now that's an interesting turn in the story 
  thanks John.
  stay safe regards Derek

[Chris in Prague]

 
 Now that's an interesting turn in the story 
  thanks John.
  stay safe regards Derek

Indeed it is.

[port perran]

Part Thirteen

First, another photograph of Trepol Bay where Jimmy changed trains on his way to St Agnes



"Jimmy, I'm so pleased that you've come over this afternoon. Lets's go up to my office but first I have a message for you from my darling wife Annie. She's booked one of the best rooms at The Cedars Hotel in Aggie for you. Breakfast and dinner is included of course as are any drinks. The room is booked for ten nights from this evening".

Jimmy really didn't know what to say. All sorts of thoughts rushed through his head in a flash. 'Do I want to become involved here? If he offers me a job should I take it? Am I ready to settle down? What if my past catches up with me? Do the Glasgow police know I'm in Cornwall? Will DI McDougall come after me or is he even interested?'

Sir William led the way up a narrow stairway into a sparse but functional office.
"Rosemary, coffee for the two of us if you please", he called out to his secretary.

"Now, Jimmy lad, let me get straight to the point. I, together with Ross, Tom and William have been most impressed with your whisky knowledge and above all your supreme palate. You would be a great asset to our team here particularly as we intend, as you know, to start to expand the business.
However there is a potential problem which I need to air first. I received a telephone call late last evening from my great friend and golfing companion, Tom Barlow who is the Assistant Chief Constable of the Cornish Police Force. He rang me because the force has received information from Glasgow police about a young man that they would like to track down and talk to. Apparently this young man has travelled South recently. The reason that Tom rang me is that the lad is known to have an interest in whisky so wanted to warn me in case he made contact. The lad must be of some interest to the Scottish force as they are sending an experienced officer, a certain Sandy Murdoch, down this way to try to track him down".

Jimmy's heart missed several beats....he daren't give anything away at this point but he was going to have to buy himself a few seconds of thinking time here without looking in any way guilty or concerned. Did Sir William have concerns that Jimmy could be the lad in question? He'd certainly be stupid not to have made such an assumption. Had he left that final sentence just hanging in the air to gauge Jimmy's response?

Without hesitation or stutter and with a poker face Jimmy's response was, "I think I know who that might be. I know someone who possibly fits the description but, just in case you are worried, it's not me"

[Chris in Prague]

Always a great pleasure to see the lovely Trepol Bay. (I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

[Train Waiting]

Part Fourteen

Sandy Murdoch awoke about seven the next morning, to the unmistakable noise of goods train buffers clanging and then the sound of a diesel's horn and the throbbing of its engine.  Sandy got up, washed, shaved and dressed.  As he was knotting his tie, Doris awoke.

"It's a gran' morning, Hen; Ah'l jist tak a wee daunder aroon the herbour whilst ye get ready.  Nae rush min', we asked fur oor breakfast at hauf-past-eight."

"Fine, Sandy," said Doris, happily contemplating another half-hour in bed.  "But be careful."

"Ah wull, Hen, Ah wull," said Sandy and left the room, walked down the stairs and out of the hotel into a fine Poppyshire morning.

The scene at the harbour looked, to Sandy, familiar and different at the same time.  After all, it was nineteen years since he had been here.  It was certainly a lot quieter now.  He strolled round the harbour, enjoying looking at the fishing boats and wondering if he might be able to go out in one during his fairly short stay in Port Poppy.





Presently, he found himself at the goods siding where a couple of men were unloading a wooden crate from a goods van.  From their efforts, he assumed it was heavy.  Sandy smiled when he noticed that a young, uniformed, police constable was observing proceedings closely.  Sandy had a silent chuckle to himself at the constable's helmet and thought how lucky Scottish policemen were not to have to wear such a thing.

"Good morning PC Murdoch!" said the police constable.  "I'm Bob Peel – welcome to Port Poppy."

Sandy looked quizzically at PC Peel who said, "I always check the hotel registers on my beat, I'm sure you do as well."

"Aye, Ah dae that richt enough ;  Ah dae that.  Ah'm Sandy and my wife is Doris."

The two policemen were soon engrossed in friendly conversation and watched as the two men loaded the crate on to a barrow.

"Right lads," said PC Peel, "I'll walk over to The Crown with you.  I know Mr Hill is waiting for this."

Sandy walked over towards The Crown with PC Peel who asked, "Are you staying long in Port Poppy, Sandy?"

"Naw, Mon, jist fower nichts, then we gae oan doon tae Cornwall fur a wee while.  Ah jist wanted tae come back as Ah wis here during the War."

"I hope you enjoy yourselves," said Pc Peel and the two men parted amiably, Sandy going in the front door of The Crown and PC Peel accompanying the two men with their barrow round to the back. 
           
Sandy and Doris had an enjoyable day wandering round Port Poppy and discovered that trains were running on the preserved steam railway the following day.  Sandy thought it would be nice to take Doris to Sillybury; he remembered it as a douce place beside the sea.

Walking into the bar for a drink before dinner, Sandy saw PC Peel, clearly off duty, sitting at the bar with the remains of a half-pint of beer.  Sandy introduced him to Doris and invited him to join them at their table in the corner.  No sooner had they sat at the table than the smart young barman walked up to the table with three glasses, a jug of water and a bottle.

"Good evening, Mr and Mrs Murdoch," he said, "Mr Hill would like you to have some of this with his compliments.  And he would like you to have some too, Tanner, to thank you for ensuring it was all safely delivered this morning."
   
At that he poured a generous measure into each glass and placed the jug on the table. Sandy picked up his glass and swirled the contents around then took an appreciative sniff.  "Slainte!"

PC Peel said, "Good health," and Doris smiled and nodded.

"That's a richt braw dram," said Sandy.  "But, if ye dinnae min' me askin', whit's this aboot 'Tanner'?"

"Not at all," replied PC Peel.  "My father was called Bob as well – he was the policeman over at Poppingham before the War – and, somehow or other, 'Little Bob', as I was known at first, sort of became 'Tanner'.

The barman replenished their glasses and, at Sandy's invitation, Tanner joined he and Doris for a most agreeable dinner.

After dinner, Graham Hill came to the table to ask if they had enjoyed their meal.

"Fair braw," said Sandy, "As wis that wee dram ye so kindly gaid us.  Nane o' us kent whit it wis, but it wis pure nectar."

"Cornish whisky," said Graham with a slightly smug smile.  "Good friends of mine have a distillery down there."

"Help ma boab!" exclaimed Sandy.  "Cornish whisky... an' we're gaun doon tae Cornwall later in the week!"

Doris smiled, with a twinkle in her kind eyes.

[dannyboy]

(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  )

[Nbodger]

(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  )

Yes, but bright yellow what?

[Chris in Prague]

(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  )

Yes, but bright yellow what?

Fishermen's waterproofs.

[port perran]

Part Fifteen

First, another photo of Trepol Bay. This time in black and white.


Two days earlier

Glasgow -The Hog's Head Public House in the city centre

Daniel Brodie, a young lad from Belfast with wild, unkempt fair hair was sitting in the saloon bar at the Hog's Head enjoying a drink  with his girlfriend Marie.
It was coming up to four o'clock in the afternoon, the bar was quiet with only a couple of other customers, both regulars, propping up the bar.

Suddenly the bar doors swung open. Two  burly middle aged men burst in and approached Daniel and Marie looking as though they meant business.
"You know why we're here Danny boy. We'd suggest that you get out of Glasgow now if you know what's good for you and take that pretty maid there with you".

Daniel knew instantly what the two men wanted. They wanted him not only out of Glasgow but out of Scotland.

Daniel had arrived in Glasgow three months ago from Ireland. He was pretty much penniless and with no real idea why he had chosen to travel to Glasgow.
He arrived with nowhere to stay but met a couple of young men of about his own age in a pub. The three men got talking with Daniel eventually being offered a place to stay in return for the odd favour.

The rest was, of course, history.
Daniel became involved with stealing whisky casks whilst they  were being transported, usually by rail, between some of the small single malt distilleries and the giant whisky blending warehouses.
It was, admittedly, only the odd barrel here and there but very soon a rival and much bigger, better organised gang got to hear about it and were not happy,

Daniel instantly realised that the  two men now standing, threateningly in front of him, had burst into the Hog's Head must be from the rival gang.
"The police are on to you, we've made sure of that" grunted the slightly taller of the two men, "They know that you have been helping yourself to the odd barrel of whisky. We've got photos to prove it and we've handed them over to the coppers. If I were you I'd get out of here and out of Scotland  as soon as you can".

The shorter of the two men gave Daniel a sharp punch in the ribs then picked up his pint glass and downed the half pint or so remaining.

Daniel wan't about to argue.. There was no way he'd fight back. "Come on Marie, time for us to go".

That evening, Daniel and Marie found themselves at Glasgow Central railway station.
They had very little money, no  food and no tickets.