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Laundry day was always the longest day at the presbytery for Bridget McCarthy. Not only did she have to wash and mend the various layers of Father Brown, which for a man of the cloth seemed to need a fair amount of attention, but she had to deal with whatever Sidney Carter decided to drop into her workload.
Most of the time the boy had the sense to have the Montague Estate bear the brunt of his untidy habits and the lingering of various questionable ventures. However it would seem this round of laundry he didn’t have that sense and Mrs. McCarthy decided to give him a piece of her mind whenever he poked his head into the kitchen.
The wireless crackled out some daily news as she sorted out the pile of whites for bluing, colors for a regular stiff wash all while keeping in mind the various pieces that needed starch and a good press after and looking out for anything that needed her skill with a needle before any of that. The work quickly hummed along till she held out a strange white shirt.
Now it wasn’t the Father’s for it was too slender besides it wasn’t any of the church issued ones of which she knew in an instant and thus ruled out the theory of it being a recently found remnant of any visiting clergyman. It sure as the Saint’s it wasn’t one of Sidney’s either for it was too fine a thing for him. The collar and buttons were too stiff and restricting for him in his day to day work. Not to mention it had a label for a menswear shop up in Cheltenham which was far too expensive. It wasn’t very like him to spend that much of his wages on an article of clothing, not when there was no reason for it.
‘Could it be a new part of his chauffeur uniform?’ mused the secretary turning the piece over a few times looking for clues that would answer her question. ‘Perhaps the Countess wants him to take a bit more pride in his appearance when driving her about.’
That thought was dismissed as soon as it popped into her head though. As Lady Felicia and herself knew all too well it would be folly trying to get him into such a thing on the regular. It was hard enough to get him to button his actual shirts let alone wear something so stiff and stuffy. Even if it wasn’t a wasted effort of Lady Felicia's, this shirt was too neat and well kept despite it being a new addition to his wardrobe. It was a well established fact that Sidney was a terror to his clothes and this shirt would look a lot worse for wear by now if it was his.
That coupled with the evidence that though being wrinkled from the time spent in the hamper, the fabric showed the lines of a previous pressing by someone who knew what they were doing. Sidney Carter was skilled at a number of things, most of which Mrs. McCarthy disapproved of, but pressing a shirt to perfection was not one of them.
A strange curiosity overtook her and she brought the fabric to her nose. Even before inhaling the pungent smell of bitter cigarettes, motor oil and lye soap assaulted her senses all of which belonged to Sidney. But sensibly that could have transferred with its time being buried in the basket with his other things so for the sake of figuring it out took an actual deep whiff of the fabric.
The lingering scent of potato starch and lightly spiced aftershave broke through everything else and they certainly were not Sidney’s. It was too fine a smell to be related to the near feral man.
With that knowledge gained the frown tugged hard at her lips as she cast a steely glare at the offending thing. Christian duty only went so far and she wasn’t about to do the washing for all of Kembleford! She tossed the out of place thing onto the table with an annoyed huff and set back to her work.
It gnawed at her though and Mrs. McCarthy hated that it did. It was just a shirt which honestly could have materialized from anywhere with the cycle of folk through the presbytery but it was the implications of that article of clothing that sat so ill with her. Whatever mischief that brought it to her was not one she wished to think about especially if it meant Sidney was up to it.
Once the first wash was set and running she made tea and went about strengthening the buttons on one of the Father’s cassocks. That man always seemed to loosen the threads around the buttons nearest his bike no matter what stitch she did. Some time passed and she made good headway on her pile till a knock at the door startled her out of her rhythm, another wrinkle in her routine and she sighed heavily as she rose to answer it and came face to face with the village constabulary.
“Inspector.” she drew out trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. "Neither the Father nor Sidney are about before you start and waste your breath.”
Sullivan blinked at her curtness but offered a nod of understanding before even getting out his own greeting. “Noted but I was actually here to see you, Mrs. McCarthy.”
The surprise wasn’t well hidden and the elder woman shifted to the side to allow him passage into the Presbytery ”Oh well if that is the case do not linger like a guppy without a bowl. Whatever brings you here can wait long enough for some tea and some award winning strawberry scones.”
Sullivan went past towards the kitchen and she trailed after then she set about making tea for them. The Inspector shifted awkwardly in the space but she paid him little mind as she fussed about.
“Laundry day?” he inquired, eyes shifting to the clothes hung up to dry and the piles about the table. The uneasiness in him seemed to grow as he realized he was interrupting her work and he nervously shifted foot to foot.
“That it is and the worst day of the week if you ask me. It is why both of them are mysteriously busy too as they don’t want a proper scolding for getting underfoot.”
She cleared the table of her piles setting them back into the baskets but left that puzzling piece of clothing out unsure where to put it so instead slung it over the washing line to be dealt with later. This got a bit of an unreadable look from the Inspector but she paid him no mind as she went back to setting out the tea service and gestured for him to take a seat but he remained standing much to her dismay.
“With strange things appearing in the laundry I was worried Sidney got himself into trouble even more so with you at the door.” the kettle whistled and Mrs. McCarthy warmed the pot, put in the leaves and let it steep. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”
“Oddly enough laundry, I ruined a good shirt and was wondering how to go about salvaging it.”
“What type of stain? There are many solutions depending on the culprit Inspector.”
“I..it is a grease stain, I was changing a tire and got axle grease on the cuffs.”
“Oh that is a tricky one, when we're done I will give you some of my own solution that I use on Sidney’s shirts. It works miracles more so if you let it soak.”
“That would be appreciated, Mrs. McCarthy thank you.”
Sullivan inched closer towards her baskets at each opportunity when her gaze wasn’t on him which sparked suspicion in her. Hands sliding behind his back as he went looking more and more uncomfortable while she finished brewing the tea.
Curiosity finally gripped her and she leaned over him to see what was in his hand, a folded dingy white fabric that wasn't a part of her washload, and as she did so was hit with that same scent though stronger which was oddly mixed with a bit of motor oil and bitter cigarettes and Mrs. M’s eyes went a bit wide at understanding whose shirt was slung up in their kitchen.
“Jesus, Joseph and Mary!” she exclaimed the teapot nearly tumbling to the floor and Sullivan turned a bright red looking about ready to flee as they exchanged looks. “Well now I do believe we need to have more than one conversion now don’t we?”
A very pale Sullivan gave a very sheepish nod but made no effort for the door a wild look of fear meeting the stern gaze of the woman who sat down and waved for him to do the same and waited for the words to come.
____
“Mrs. M!” exclaimed Sidney as he strolled in with his usual swagger “What’s for lunch I’m starving!”
She handed him a cup of tea once he’d settled at the table and waited only a moment till he began sipping it before taking the opportunity she’d been waiting and planning for.
“Does the Inspector like regular or extra starch on his shirts?” and she got the response she knew she’d get when the lad nearly choked to death on his tea. “Not that I mind doing a bit of his laundry but one should really ask how he likes it done before carelessly tossing it in the hamper Sidney.”
A few coughs later and a satisfied grin from Mrs. McCarthy finally brought words out of him.
“I...I...oh I forgot I’d…” as if the realization of his actions hit him finally. “I’ll...uh..get that back to him yeah.”
“You will do no such thing.” she waved a hand at his open mouth gaping “Oh close your mouth Sidney you are not a goldfish! Besides it has already been returned with no mention of how or why I came into its possession. We did have a chat about other things of which I am certain you will get a recap on so there is no need for me to waste my breath about it now. Not at least with the list of chores I have to be getting on with.”
Sid still gaped “It really was an accident Mrs. M. I spilt tea all down mine as I was rushing to get to Montague on time and borrowed…”
“Stole.” she corrected him “Borrowing suggests you would return it and by the judge of your face you forgot the last bit of that contract.”
Sid’s flush was evident “Yea I nicked it thinking if I kept my chauffeur coat on no one would notice. Except it was a long soiree and an even longer drive back with the weather so by the time I got here I forgot that bit because I was exhausted and tossed it in the basket with everything else.”
“Well he’s returned your shirt as well, though a bit better than you left it I suppose, so I figured out that much.” the neatly folded dingy white shirt that usually rested under his chauffeur coat laid on top of the basket.
“I’m sure I’m the last to puzzle it out what is going on but if not then I suspect a conversation with the Father isn’t too much to ask now is it?” pressing a swift motherly kiss to the lad’s temple with a whisper only he could hear “I am happy if you are, we will leave this at that and we’ll speak no more on it but in future please be a bit more careful if only for my sake.” before trotting off to put the fresh laundry in its place.
Leaving Sid at the table staring off after her muttering a simple “Yeah will do, ‘hanks for understandin’ Mrs. M.”