7 Sorrow on Sunday (30 page)

*   *   *

L
OIS FETCHED HERSELF ANOTHER COFFEE AND SAT
down again. Strangely enough, it was easier to sit and think amidst all this noise and bustle, and nobody taking any notice of her. She turned over in her mind all that she had heard. Most important, of course, was Dot’s conversation. It had been a dirty green car with two people in it, and they had been laughing. Snap. An exact copy of what had happened to her and Darren. Surely it shouldn’t be beyond the wits of the Tresham police to locate them? A number plate? She should have asked Dot if she had . . . Wait a minute! Another snapshot of the crash. The car was so dirty round the lower half that the number plate was totally obscured. Deliberate, or just a filthy car? She shut her eyes and tried to picture the laughing faces. Of course she had had only a lightning glimpse of them, side-on. But Dot had seen them coming straight for her. She must talk some more about that.

Then there were the Horsleys. Joe Horsley was a nasty piece of work, Alice had said. The stuff about Horace and the Nimmos was not new, but the fact that the Colonel had faced a possible court case for not paying
was
new. And confirmation that he and Joe Horsley were deep into gambling on horses—serious stuff—and probably other similar pastimes as well, was new. It was serious enough for them to be very anxious not to be found out. So Dot’s poor son must have known something, and of course Dot herself, and now she, Lois, was a threat to them, with her association with Dot, and poking about in matters that did not concern her. No doubt they had noted her presence at the point-to-point, and would know that she had not heeded the warning, and was not giving up. Which meant that she had to be very careful. The jokers in the green car might not bungle the job next time.

It occurred to her that perhaps they had not meant to kill any of them, not Haydn, nor Dot, nor herself and Darren. Perhaps the orders had been to frighten them off, making it quite clear that next time they would finish the job? If so, then they had obeyed orders and added evil intent themselves. That lad of Dot’s had not stood a chance. His
reactions might have been a bit slow, of course, or they could have miscalculated the actions of the terrified bolting horse. Lois shook her head. That one didn’t make sense. But one useful conclusion emerged. If the intention had been to kill, then whoever was behind this, the one who carried out the master plan was not very bright in choosing his hitmen. Bungling from beginning to end. She and Darren could easily have died, and so could Dot, but they hadn’t.

So, now, which of them was not very bright? She drove home still sorting it out in her head, and vanished into her office to see if making notes would help to clear her head.

*   *   *

D
EREK CAME HOME LATE FOR SUPPER.
G
RAN HAD
refilled the kettle a couple of times and put it back on the hob. She looked at her watch as he came through the door.

“So what kept you?” she said.

“What d’you think?” he replied, an unusually grumpy greeting from Derek to his mother-in-law. “Work, Gran, earning us a living.”

What’s eating him, she wondered, but said nothing more.

“Where’s Lois?” he asked.

“In her office. Sorting papers, she said. Will you call and tell her supper’s ready.”

“When I’ve had a wash,” he replied, and walked through to the hall. Gran heard Lois’s door open and shut with a bang.
Oh dear
, she thought,
what’s happened now
? This wasn’t the most peaceful family to live with. Still, it was hers, and she loved them all. She peeped into the oven, and everything seemed to be ticking over nicely.

Lois looked up from her notes, and said, “Hi, m’love. Goodness, Derek, you look cross,” she added, seeing his gloomy face. “What’s up?”

“The sodding lottery, that’s what’s up. I wish we’d never won it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Lois said, shrugging her shoulders. “We can make very good use of it, and have already. Rent from our little house coming in, and some improvements round this house. What’s happened?”

She got up and came round her desk to give him a hug. He sighed. “Those Horsleys,” he said. “Typical farmer, Joe Horsley. He’d asked me to give them a quote for more work in the kitchen. I got a call on my mobile this morning. Says I’m far too expensive and that after winning the lottery, I don’t need the money anyway. They got lower estimates, he says, so would I like to re-quote? I told him to get lost. Depressed me, though.”

Lois was furious. “I’ve a good mind to take New Brooms away from them,” she said. “Leave them in the lurch, rotten sods. Well,” she added, “it’s him, really. She’s not too bad, Dot reckoned.”

They were silent for a second or two, and then Lois brightened. “I know,” she said, “we’ll put up the cleaning charges. That’ll fix him. He’ll need a good win on the gee-gees even more urgently!”

“They might just do without,” Derek said gloomily.

“Oh no, they can’t wait to get Dot back. They need her for what she knows. Far more to it than meets the eye with the Horsleys.”

Derek groaned. “Oh, Lois, can’t you leave it alone? Isn’t it enough to get yourself nearly killed, and a young lad into the bargain? Aren’t we enough, me and Gran and the kids?”

Lois said nothing. Derek turned her towards him and looked closely into her face. “All right, all right,” he said sadly, “you don’t need to answer.” He turned away and went to the door. “I’ll get a quick wash before supper,” he said. “Gran’s about to explode.”

E
ARLY NEXT MORNING,
E
VELYN RECEIVED A TELEPHONE
call, and was stunned to hear Dot’s voice loud and clear.

“They’ve rumbled me, Evie,” Dot said, chuckling. “Kicking me out this afternoon. Well, not exactly kicking, but they made it plain they needed the bed for more deservin’ patients.”

“But they’re not sending you home?” said Evelyn, genuinely shocked.

“Good God no,” Dot said. “They wanted to know if I would like them to arrange a convalescent home. I said not bloody likely, as you can imagine. Not ready to be dumped in a home yet, I said.”

“So where are you going?” said Evelyn, with a sinking heart.

“To my
darling
sister, o’ course! I knew you wouldn’t hear of nothing else. So when can you come and collect me? I’ll need some clean clothes an’ that.”

While Evelyn reeled from this news, Dot gave her a list of things to do and to bring. “I’ll need to come back for tests and things,” she added, “but I told them you’d be happy to do that, ’aving a car yourself. I made it quite clear I couldn’t wait to get home. Liar! Still, I always was, and when it matters I tell the truth. An’ this is the truth: I’m very grateful to you, Evie. I’ll do the same for you one day. See y’later.”

Evelyn sat without moving for several minutes. Then she sighed, and picked up the phone.

“Hello? Mrs. M? I’ve got some good news . . . I think,” she said. She told Lois about Dot, and was amazed to hear a shout of laughter.

“Wicked old thing!” Lois said. “So when are you picking her up? Do you want me to get one of the girls to cover for you today?”

They rearranged Evelyn’s day, and Lois offered help with collecting Dot. “No, I’ll be fine, thanks,” Evelyn said. “You should be taking it easy yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me. It might not be much fun for you, but Dot’s news has cheered me up no end! I feel stronger already. She’s one of those characters you’re always pleased to see coming through the door, awful as she is . . .”

There was a pause, and then Evelyn said, “I hate to say it, Mrs. M, but you’re right. I wouldn’t change her for a win on the lottery.”

“Derek might agree with you there,” Lois said, suddenly serious. “But let me know how it goes, and I’ll be in touch.”

*   *   *

W
HEN
D
EREK CAME HOME TO LUNCH, HE DUMPED HIS
bag on the kitchen floor and went straight through to Lois’s office. He walked straight in, and found her with young Floss, both busy with pens and notebooks.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, backing out.

“No, it’s OK. We’ve finished, more or less.” Lois put down her notes and saw Floss out of the front door. “Things not too good at the Battersbys,” she said on returning. “Apparently old Horace swore at Floss when she dropped a newspaper in a puddle of dog pee in the kitchen. Poor kid was very upset. You’d think their rotten dogs would be house-trained, wouldn’t you? I shall have to have a word.”

Derek sat down in the chair opposite Lois, and said, “Their sort are always the worst. Especially them with corgis. Still, no doubt you’ll put it right with a diplomatic complaint. Now,” he added more briskly, “I’ve got an idea. And don’t interrupt until I’ve finished.”

Lois widened her eyes, settled back and listened. This was more like her old Derek.

“I know you’ll say you got quite enough to do already, but I think it would be good for you to have some interest
outside New Brooms and snooping for Cowgill. No! I said don’t interrupt! What I’m suggesting is that although I love our garden, and it’s always been my territory, I can’t seem to find the time to do it all these days. It would be good if you could take on the flowers, and maybe the whole of the front garden. I’d still cut the grass, because that’s not woman’s work—”

At this point, Lois could keep silent no longer. “What d’you mean, not woman’s work!” She then listed all the dirty jobs and heavy tasks she had managed quite easily from the day they were married. “I’m a big strong woman, and cutting the grass would be child’s play to me.”

“So you’ll do it then?” said Derek, taking a step in the right direction.

“I haven’t said I would. I’m just pointing out that I could.” Lois looked at him and smiled. Then she got up and came round to him. He stood up and put his arms around her.

“To please me?” he whispered in her ear.

“To please you, I’d do anything,” Lois said, and added, “Well, nearly anything.”

“
Anything
,” said Derek firmly, and grinned in triumph.

*   *   *

B
Y EVENING,
D
EREK HAD VISITED THEIR NEAREST GARDEN
centre, collected up packets of seeds, a pair of ladies’ gardening gloves, and a new trowel and fork. “I’ll clear a space in the greenhouse for you,” he said enthusiastically, “and anything you want to know, just ask me. With any luck, we’ll have some prize blooms to put in the horticultural show this year. Bet you’ll get a first easily.”

Derek knew exactly what he was doing. At the mention of a challenge, Lois’s expression changed. “Ah, now you’re talking,” she said. “I bet I can beat those boring old men on the allotment any day. I’ll show ’em. By the way,” she added, “the front hedge needs clipping. I’ll start on that straight after tea.”

“Blimey!” said Gran, who was listening open-mouthed. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

*   *   *

H
UNTER
C
OWGILL, CRUISING BY IN THE EARLY EVENING
, could not believe his eyes. There was Lois, in tattered jeans and a beaten-up old hat of Derek’s, up a step ladder, clipping the golden privet hedge.

He stopped on the opposite side of the road, opened the car window, and leaned across. “That’s what I like to see,” he called. “Toning up the muscles. Soon be ready for anything. But seriously, Lois, isn’t that too much for you so soon after the accident?”

Her face told him he’d said just the wrong thing, and he flinched in anticipation. The sharp retort was muted. Lois carefully came down the steps and looked across at him. She walked over and said seriously, “You know, my Derek is not stupid. Never has been. He has just given me the perfect opportunity to gather information. You are the fourth person who has stopped to talk. None of the others in a car, of course, but just walking by. I don’t need to tell you this could be very useful indeed.”

“Well done Derek! Anything you’d like to know from me?” Cowgill said, and wished his heart would stop thumping in that frightening way.

“On your way, Hunter,” Lois said. “I’ll be in touch.”

As he drove on, he began to hum quietly to himself. She’d called him Hunter, for the first time ever! Wasn’t that the sun coming out, after a dull and rainy day?