Dorothea Hall Mysteries

Mixing at Ye Olde Watling

One of the things the tavern was famous for was its receipt for shandy-gaff. It apparently had the perfect ratio of ale to ginger beer. I'd heard about it from Emory who had visited the Watling when he was doing some work for his uncle on Watling street. He was known as a real brick and had gone back there a few times before our married life curtailed his evening drinking. I asked him to escort me there so I could speak with Mr. Clyde Beckham about his marital problems.

"Are you sure it's best to confront him as he relaxes after a hard day's work?" Emory asked.

"I can't go to his house and talk to him," I said. "Imagine what Maggie's mother would think of a young woman showing up at their house. Maggie asked me not to let her mother know she asked me to look into the problem. I am to keep this secret at any cost."

"Why not go to the butcher's and have a chat while buying something for our dinner?"

"I doubt Master Janson allows his employees time off during a working day to talk to strange women. No, it will have to be after work when he has some free time. Mrs. Beckham doesn't expect him to come home right after work. You shall distract his drinking companions and I shall be able to hear his side of the story."

Emory threw up his hands in surrender. "I'd ask whether such a man would talk to a strange woman about his secrets, but you are your mother's daughter and you have your ways. Very, well off to the pub to mix with the working man."

Mr. Beckham was just as distinctive as his daughter had described. He sat at a table with a number of happy looking men. His own mien was sad. He held his pewter mug tightly and took slow sips of the contents. I sat at a table near the front and watched as my husband joined the table and made fast friends with the group there. Emory had the talent of being comfortable with anyone. He whispered into Mr. Beckham's ear. The Butcher glanced at me and then nodded. He excused himself and joined me at the table.

"Your husband said you think you can help me." Mr. Beckham did not mince words.

Maggie hadn't said I couldn't talk to her father about my mission, so I decided to be up front as well. "Maggie is worried about you and she wants to stop this whole wife auction altogether. I understand it wasn't your idea."

"Do I look like the sort of man who would sell his wife? Linnie insists that because I hold her cheap, she should find a new man who will respect her."

"This all stems from an affair you had when she was pregnant with your first son, correct?"

"Yes, I admitted it to her back when it happened and I thought she got over it, but something brought it up again and now she refuses to believe I've never looked at another woman since then."

"You have no idea what could have caused this?"

He looked away for a moment and said, "I have no idea."