7 Sorrow on Sunday (29 page)

L
OIS LAUGHED WHEN SHE HEARD THAT NOT ONLY HAD
Dot spoken to her sister, however faintly, but was up to something from her hospital bed. “Wicked old thing!” she said. “But still, there’s not much she can do at the moment, except pretend to be still in a coma.”

“Don’t you be so sure,” said Evelyn. “My sister is as crafty as a cartload of monkeys. Anyway, when you are feeling well enough yourself, you could go in and see if she favours you with a word or two.”

Assuring Evelyn that she was quite better, Lois looked at her desk diary. Tomorrow was a good day. She would go to the hospital tomorrow. If Dot had any ideas about who had knocked her down so disastrously, Lois very much wanted to know.

*   *   *

A
LICE
P
ARKER
-K
NOWLE HAD BEEN VERY CONCERNED
about Dot, but was too disabled herself to risk the hazards of the General Hospital. In any case, she could see no sense in wasting time visiting an unconscious woman. If Dot recovered, then would be the time to make sure she was looking after herself, and perhaps help her out financially.

A series of New Brooms cleaners had filled in for Dot, and this morning it was her sister. “Good morning, Mrs. Parker-Knowle,” Evelyn’s cheery voice called from the front door. She came in to where Alice was sitting, and the old lady replied, “I do wish you would call me Alice.”

“I would feel uncomfortable, I’m afraid,” Evelyn replied. “Not respectful, somehow.”

Alice sighed. “Your sister Dot had no such qualms,” she said. “I do miss her, you know. Not that I’m dissatisfied with New Brooms’ service,” she added hastily. “It’s just that Dot was special.”

“She still is,” said Evelyn. “She spoke to me this morning. Very weak, of course, but she definitely spoke. I don’t think the doctor believed me, and Dot made it clear she wouldn’t speak to them. I don’t know what the old thing is up to, but it looks like our Dot is on the mend.”

Alice’s grin was broad. “Oh, I’m
so
pleased,” she said. “D’you know, I think I
shall
go and visit her tomorrow. I can take a taxi, and there’ll be wheelchair access to the ward. I’ve got a wheelchair tucked away in the shed, if you would kindly get it out for me.”

“Are you sure, Mrs. Parker-Knowle? Wouldn’t you like me to come with you?”

Alice rapped her stick on the floor. “I order you to call me Alice,” she said, smiling. “Think how many minutes it will save. And no, thank you for offering, but I’d like to go by myself. There are always people to help, and if Dot decides not to speak it would be a waste of your time.”

“Would it be in the afternoon? I could go in the morning, and tell her you’re coming. I shall also tell her that it’s not easy for you, and she should make an effort to speak! Of course, she may pretend not to hear but I reckon it’ll get through.”

“That’s settled then. Now, why don’t we have a coffee before you start? This thundery weather makes me thirsty.”

It was almost dark, although still in the middle of the day, and thunder rumbled around threateningly. Heavy cloudbursts sent streams of water rushing down the gutters, and when Evelyn went to put rubbish in the bin, a shower of ice-cold water hit the back of her neck.

“Bugger it,” she said. It was unusual for her to swear. Unlike Dot, whose language had started off reasonably well, but had deteriorated after years of living with Handy, she spoke well and had tried to maintain a respectable exterior in the face of her Nimmo relations. But this morning she was driven to swear. The shock of the shower was the final irritation
in the saga of Dot and her accident. Now she, Evelyn, had to bear the burden of dealing with Dot’s emergence from the coma. How typical of her sister to be plotting from her hospital bed! Of course, she’d get found out. They must have ways to look at her brain and see she was actually conscious. She shrugged. Ah well, she could only wait and see, and in the meantime keep this nice old lady happy.

*   *   *

A
LICE STRUGGLED OUT OF HER TAXI, AND THE DRIVER
helped her into her wheelchair. “I’ll take you into reception, me duck,” he said kindly, and pushed her through the automatic doors up to the desk. “Will you be okay now?” he asked. Alice nodded and joined the queue. She had been practising and had become quite adept at manoeuvring in a wheelchair.

As it happened, she did not need to wheel herself. A porter was summoned, and Alice was wheeled directly to Beddington Ward. She explained that she was Dot’s friend and employer, in that order. The nurse was welcoming, but said sadly that Dot had not shown any signs of speaking since the alleged conversation with her sister.

“But who knows, Mrs. Parker-Knowle, you never know.” The nurse offered a drink, but Alice refused, and settled herself in close to Dot’s bed. She looked at the colourless face. She could be dead, thought Alice. But she was still breathing. It was shallow, but definitely regular and steady. Alice smiled. This was her Dot, holding on to a life that to another would seem hardly worth living. Husband dead, only son dead, short of money and living in a dump. Cleaning other people’s houses when she hadn’t the heart to clean her own. The victim of a hit-and-run driver. What must it feel like to know that someone hated you so much they could come out of nowhere and take your life—a life which, in spite of everything, you wanted to hold on to?

Alice felt tears, but sniffed them back.

“Got a cold, dear?” said the whispery voice.

Alice stared at Dot’s motionless figure. “Dot? Did you say something? Dot? It’s Alice here.”

“I know it is. How did you manage to get here?”

“Taxi, wheelchair, helpful porter. D’you think I should tip him, Dot?” Alice was determined not to be shocked into anxiety by Dot up to her tricks.

Dot’s eyes flicked open, and a faint smile appeared. “Don’t waste yer money, dear,” she said. “Save it up for me when I get back to work.”

Alice sighed. “I hope it will be soon. Anyway,” she added, leaning forward and speaking briskly, “before nurse comes back, tell me what you remember. Who knocked you down, Dot? I’ve useful contacts in Tresham who can sort this out—rough justice if necessary.”

Dot’s eyes opened wide this time. “
You,
Alice?

“Yes, me. So tell me quickly what you saw.”

*   *   *

L
ois had trouble finding a parking place, as
usual, but now walked quickly through the automatic doors and up to reception. There was nobody there. “She’s gone down the Street for a few seconds,” a porter said. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Lois shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’m expected, and I know my way.”

She sped through the reception area and into the Street. Anxious not to show any hesitation, she took a turn and half ran towards the lift. She was lucky. She had chosen the right route, and was soon on her way to Beddington Ward. As she approached, she heard a voice she recognized. Surely that was Alice Parker-Knowle? She slowed up, and stood unseen outside the ward door, which was ajar. She very quietly pushed it open so that she could hear clearly. No one about at the moment.

“What did you say, Dot?” Alice was saying. “I couldn’t quite hear that. Oh, you said you were minding your own business when . . . what was that? No, of course I’m not deaf. Well, not very. Go on then . . . Two in the car? Did you see them at all? What did the car look like? Oh, very dirty, was it. And what colour? Green, you think?”

“Now, now, what’s going on here?” A brisk nurse stopped
in front of Lois, who said smoothly that she wasn’t sure if Mrs. Nimmo was allowed two visitors at once, and so she was waiting until somebody in authority came along. “Oh, I see,” said the nurse, somewhat mollified. “Well, just wait here, and I’ll see what the situation is.”

She returned after a couple of minutes, shaking her head. “There seems to be no change. I don’t suppose it would matter if you went in to see her too. It’s not as if conversation is going to exhaust her, is it?” With the ghost of a smile, the nurse passed on to the next ward.

Alice smiled broadly when she saw Lois. “Bring up a chair, Lois. I’ve been having a nice chat with Dot. She’s much improved.” Her last few words were in a stage whisper, and Lois sat down and looked closely at Dot. Once more the shutters had come down.

Lois took the limp hand. “Dot! Open your eyes at once, if you know what’s good for you. I expect you’re hoping for your job back in due course? Well . . .”

“Blackmail, Mrs. M,” said the hoarse voice, and now Dot had fully opened eyes and a grin for Lois. “I just told Alice all I can remember. I ain’t got much brain workin’ yet, but with a lot more rest I am sure it’ll improve.”

“Dot, you don’t think they’ll keep you here in luxury until you decide to wake up for them, do you? They’ll have your number, duckie, probably by tomorrow. Then you’ll be out on your ear.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Lois,” Alice said quickly. “She’ll need a good convalescence, and I am sure we can find her a nice home to go to.”

“Mmm, perhaps,” said Lois. “Mind you, she’ll probably be expelled for stirring up trouble amongst the inmates. Now then, Dot, just concentrate. Did you see their faces? Old or young? Male or female? Strangers or people you knew? Rival gang—that kind of thing?”

“Yes, young, male, a bit familiar. Oh yes, and they were laughing.”

Something clicked in Lois’s head, and she said, “Laughing? So were the two who mowed down me and Darren . . . Blimey, Dot, what’s going on?”

“God knows,” Dot said in an ever stronger voice. “An’ are you better, Mrs. M? Sounds like you were on the list, too. Get old Cowgill on to it. Oh lor’!” she added. “I can hear the bloody doctor’s voice. Time for his round. Night night all.”

Her eyes closed, mouth slightly open, and Lois rose to go. “I’ll take you down, Alice,” she said. “We need to have a chat.”

“T
HERE’S A CAFÉ OVER THERE,”
L
OIS SAID, POINTING TO A
newly set up coffee and snack area. “This hospital’s improved a lot since my Derek was in here. Mind you, that was a while ago. Hit-and-run, just like poor old Dot. Our local villains must reckon it’s an easy way of solving problems.”

She settled Alice into a space by a table, and went to collect coffees. Soon back, she unwrapped a packet of two shortbread biscuits, put one in front of Alice and began to munch the other.

“Now then, Alice, what do you mean by telling Dot you have contacts in Tresham? What sort of contacts?”

“You were eavesdropping!” Alice said, annoyed.

“Naturally. It’s my job. Well, my unpaid, dangerous and sometimes useful job. I’m hoping to find out who nearly killed Dot—and me and Darren.”

“And what do you do when you know the answer to that?” Alice was suspicious. Was this nice Lois part of Tresham’s underworld? Dot had told her some entertaining stories about dodgy goings-on in her family.

“Tell the police, of course,” Lois replied. “Didn’t you hear Dot mention Cowgill? He’s the detective inspector I work with. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep all this to yourself. Are you happy now to tell me who your contacts are?”

Alice hesitated. “Well,” she said slowly, “it was when my husband was alive. He had some friends in the Conservative Club, and the Round Table, and amongst them were the great and good of Tresham. Wheels within wheels, Lois. You know the kind of thing. Like the Freemasons, they took care of their own.”

“So did your husband need to be taken of?”

“No, no. Not John. It was his so-called friend, Horace Battersby. I think I told you before that there was trouble between Horace and the Nimmos. A building contract and non-payment of a bill. Horace was let off lightly in the end. John’s contacts saved him from a court case, and—even worse—being blackballed from the clubs!”

“But now that your husband has passed away . . . ?”

“Oh, I still keep in touch. They look after me now. And, of course, I was very friendly with several of the wives. Helped with their charity events, that sort of thing. I think I’ve told you all this before, so you must forgive an old lady.”

Lois drank her coffee, and looked around. “A good place to meet, this,” she said. “People coming and going all the time, and a good chance that you’ll see nobody you know. Would you like another coffee?”

Alice refused, saying the taxi would be here shortly to take her home. “Another five minutes, though, if you want to ask me anything else,” she said.

“Do you know anything about Horace and racing and gambling, sailing close to the wind? Has he ever been in trouble in that direction, or near to it?”

“Horace?” Alice laughed. “He likes to think he’s Mr. Big in the gambling world. It’s all horse racing, of course. Poor old Blanche knows something’s going on, but can never get it out of him. He and that Horsley. Joe Horsley—do you know him? Another nasty piece of work.”

Lois did not answer, and Alice continued. “Yes, of course you know the Horsleys! Dot told me she was cleaning at their farmhouse. Putting poison in their coffee, probably,” she added, chuckling.

The taxi driver approached their table, and Alice gathered herself together. “I’m ready,” she said. “Goodbye, Lois. Anything else I can do to help, you know where I live. Off we go then,” she added to the driver, and they disappeared through the automatic doors.