Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven (11 page)

J
oan was waiting at her door, and knew from the look on Gran’s face that something was wrong.

“Come on in, Elsie,” she said. “And you can tell me what’s up. Has your Lois been getting at you again?”

Gran was immediately on the defensive. Nobody was allowed to criticize any member of her family but herself. “I suppose she thinks she’s doing the best for her silly old mother,” she said. “I have reservations; of course I have. Both of us were taken for a bit of a ride. But we shall be more careful now, and make a success of it. Then Lois will be proud of us.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Joan. “Now, sit down at the table, and I’ll show you what I’ve prepared.”

She spread out a large sheet of paper, with her name and Gran’s written at the top. Then, in the well-known pyramid shape, she had drawn tentacles reaching from two each down to a row of question marks.

“What’s them marks for?” Gran asked.

“Well, they mean we can stop whenever we like. We just close down the jewellery supply. Foolproof.”

“So they buy all the jewellery from us? Sending us orders and then we take a cut on all, then they take a cut, and so on and on?”

“And we are the only ones who actually supply the starter pack—which they pay for—and any forthcoming orders.”

Gran was silent for a moment. Then she said she could see one major fly in the ointment. “I bet you it dries up sooner than you think,” she added. “There just aren’t that many willing sellers around here. And anyway, after a couple of parties, people will have got all the jewellery they need.”

“That can happen,” agreed Joan. “But by the time we’ve got about eight people selling, we’ll encourage them to spread the net wider. Ask friends and relations from farther afield. It works with other schemes.”

Huh, thought Gran. The scheme sounded very like Lois’s warning of scams! “And another thing,” said Gran. “You and I now have our starter pack, which we’ve paid for, but we’ll need more money to buy our first lot to sell. If we sell our starter pack, we’ll have nothing to demonstrate with.”

“I’ve thought of that,” said Joan proudly. “We sell some of it, but have some photographs enlarged to demonstrate the rest. More than we could do with stuff actually on the table. Then, as we take orders, we’ll be able to be flexible.”

“It costs money to have professional photographs enlarged,” said Gran doubtfully.

“The jewellery suppliers can take care of that, I’m sure,” said Joan. She was beginning to wonder if Gran’s heart was still in it. That wretched daughter of hers has been putting the boot in; that was obvious.

“Is that all, then, Elsie?” she said. “Shall I make us a cuppa? Then we can do some party planning.” She disappeared into her kitchen, and Gran sat staring at the pyramid. Joan was her best friend, and always straight and clever with it. And it would be wonderful if they made it work. Joan still drove, and could take them to village halls and reading rooms to find the best locations for their parties, and they would meet nice new people. She was so dug into Farnden village life that she sometimes longed to be somewhere else, someone else.

She had lived with Lois for years now, and inevitably her personal life had been absorbed into the general family goings-on. She did her best, with membership in the Women’s Institute and the occasional day out with Joan. She went to church regularly, but on the whole found her fellow worshippers snooty and elitist, as if going to church made them superior.

No, this would be hers alone. Well, hers and Joan’s. If they made a mess of it, then too bad. At least they would have tried and got their brains working again!

“Do you want a hand, Joan?” she called, and went out into the kitchen.

“Let’s get another sheet of paper,” Joan said, “and we can make a list of people to ask and where to have it. I think our first party should be fairly local, but in a smaller venue, as Donald had already collared the market round here.”

Impressed by Joan’s mastery of the jargon, Gran said why not the Reading Room in Fletching? It had recently been restored and had kitchen facilities. Everything was clean and new, and just the job for a jewellery party.

“One thing you haven’t asked me,” Joan said, offering a plate of Jaffa Cakes to Gran. “Where do we get the jewellers who will agree to our terms, instead of the other way round?”

“Ah, now I might be able to help there,” said Gran, who was beginning to feel much the weaker partner in this enterprise. “When I lived in Tresham, my next-door neighbour had a jewellers shop in town. It wasn’t in the posh part, but very central, and when they’d got a reputation for good stuff sold at reasonable prices, the word got round, and they did very well. I was quite close to the wife at that time, and I could certainly get in touch and put a proposition to her.”

Joan clapped her hands in delight. “Wonderful, Elsie. So now we’re all set. You see your friend in town, and I’ll go to Fletching to book the Reading Room.”

“And I’ll make a list of all the friends I used to have in Tresham who might like a trip out to Fletching and take in a jewellery party. What time shall we have it? I suggest half past six in the evening. It’s light until late now, so it couldn’t be better for us.”

“And what about that starter pack?” said Joan. “Do we sell it?”

Gran shook her head. “Send it back. If I set up a deal with the jewellers in Tresham, they won’t want us selling someone else’s stuff. And that business we agreed to, about having however many parties a month it was, will be null and void.”

“Elsie! You’re a wonder!”

Gran nodded, and said she’d better be getting back home before Lois came after her with the handcuffs.

“A
re you going into market at Tresham today, Lois? Saturday market is always the best.”

Gran had been thinking. She would get a lift into town with Lois, and then go off on her own to find the jewellers.

“I thought I’d look up some people I used to know up on the Mounts. That district has definitely come up in the world, and I should think they do well. They always send me a Christmas card, and it would be nice to see them again. I’ll get the bus home. I’ll enjoy that, and I’ve got my old people’s bus pass.”

“Itchy feet, Mum?” said Lois. She had thought long and hard about her row with Gran, and decided she would try to understand her a little better. Perhaps they did take her too much for granted.

“No, of course not. I don’t have to account for my every move, do I?”

“Let’s have no more of that,” said Derek, from behind his sports pages. “Little birds in their nests agree. Never a truer saying than that.”

“And what about the cuckoo’s eggs laid in other birds’ nests? The little cuckoo hatches and shoves the rest out to die on the ground!”

Derek rose to his feet, scratching his head. “I give up,” he said. “See you at lunchtime, me duck, and you’d better ring us, Gran, if you miss the bus home. There’s only the one.”

“Okay, then, Mum. Can you be ready in half an hour or so? I want to go over to Brigham to see Aurora later. See how she is. I might be able to help.”

*   *   *

The morning market was busy and lively as always. A busker with a pennywhistle was playing at one corner, and his girlfriend sang along every now and then. They were good, and Lois stopped to listen and put money in the straw boater upturned on the ground in front of them.

“My lucky day,” said a familiar voice behind her, and she turned to see Hunter Cowgill. “Hello, Mrs. Meade,” he said. “Shall we dance?”

“Have you been drinking, Cowgill?” said Lois irritably.

“Certainly not. I need no extra stimulant when there’s a chance I might see my favourite sleuth around the market. You usually come here on Saturdays. But where’s your mother? Mrs. Weedon gets a lift in most weeks, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does, and thereby hangs a tale. This week she came in with me as usual, and instead of us going around the market together, she told me some trumped-up story about visiting a friend on the Mounts, and disappeared before I could argue.”

“No wonder you are a little tetchy, my dear,” he said. “But I am sure she will be fine. After all, she lived in Tresham for many years. Since her birth, I believe? She’s bound to know her way around.”

“I know, but she’s never bothered about these mythical friends before. She and that Joan friend of hers are up to no good. Not your sort of no good, of course. But they’ve been hooked by the idea of pyramid selling of some sort, and they are a real gullible pair!”

“What? Your mother gullible? I would not agree with that, Lois dear. Anyway, now you’ve told me, I’ll bear it in mind and keep an eye on things. Now, how about a drink with me in our usual café?”

Lois sighed. “Go on, then,” she said. “I’ll tell you what I know so far. Mum’s getting the midday bus back. She insisted, so it means I shan’t see her until about half past twelve.”

“I am sure she will return full of news from her old friends.”

“As long as she returns, I don’t care what she tells us. If she and Joan are really going ahead with their plan, I mean to check on her every move. I know that the Brigham jewellery is basically rubbish, but the word might well get round that the two old ducks are pottering about with bags full of jewels and money. You know what villages are like!”

“You may be right, Lois. Would you like me to have a word with your mother? Now I am family, however remotely, she might listen to me.”

“Not at the moment, thanks. I’m hoping to see Aurora Black this afternoon. I mean to go over to the bakery and see if she has anything to report on Mum and Joan.”

They finished their coffee and walked out into the market. Everything looked bright and normal, and Cowgill disappeared to return to the station. Lois wandered round, her mind not really on her shopping list. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Here I am,” said Gran. “I hoped I’d catch you, and there’d be no need for me to catch the bus.”

“But what about your f-f-friends?” stammered Lois.

“The one I wanted to see wasn’t there, so I’ll go back another time. Probably best to ring first.”

Feeling ridiculously relieved, Lois took hold of her mother’s arm and said she wanted to show her a pair of slippers that she might like as an unbirthday present. Gran, astonished by this, said she would have to go missing more often. The slippers were approved and stashed away in a bag, and mother and daughter returned to the car and set off back to Long Farnden.

L
unchtime came, and as Derek, Lois and Gran sat down to eat, a shadow passed by the window and Josie appeared at the door.

“Guess what?” she said.

“What?” chorused Derek and Lois.

“We have a new shop assistant. Matthew, my off-duty policeman husband, suggested he take over for an hour to allow me to visit my aged relatives in Meade House.”

Derek laughed. “You’re pulling our legs,” he said. “You’ve got Floss in, to give you a break.”

“No, honest, it is true. He offered. God knows whether he is capable, but I thought at least if he had cheeky chappies or belligerent customers to deal with, he would know exactly what to do. Worth a try, don’t you think, Mum?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Lois. “Sit down over there, and have a sausage or three. Veg in that dish. Derek, pass her the mustard. Plenty of everything, thanks to your Gran.”

“Any news, Mum, on the dreadful mill-wheel murder? And before you correct me, I know there’s no proof that it was murder, but every customer in the shop is convinced it was. The general consensus is that Donald Black had made enemies way back. He’s had a number of different enterprises, apparently, and not all squeaky clean.”

“Perhaps you’d like me to ask Aurora. I am going to see her this afternoon, and I could question her about her late husband’s squeaky-clean ventures.” Her voice was ice-cold, and Josie frowned.

“Don’t take it seriously, Mum. You know it’s only gossip in the village shop. That’s what most people come in for! And, as you know, I keep quiet and listen. It wouldn’t do for me to take sides.”

“Why don’t we change the subject?” said Derek. “I’m fed up with hearing tittle-tattle. The strangled woman is nothing to do with us, and the police will know if there was a link with the jewellery bloke. End of story. Now, tell us, Josie, how you’re getting on with the gardening, you and Matthew? I’ve got some radish seed left over. Would you like it?”

The conversation limped on, with Lois obviously regarding radishes as unimportant and Derek refusing to let her quiz Josie on what she had heard on either the woman strangled in the hotel or Donald Black spread-eagled on the dripping waterwheel.

*   *   *

Aurora was serving in her shop when Lois arrived. A fresh-faced, plump woman loaded up her bag with bread and wished Aurora a cheery goodbye.

“Hi, Lois! Lovely to see you. Have you got time for a chat? Most of my weekend customers have been in now, and I have very little bread left. There’s a large white, and four soft rolls, if you’d like them.”

Lois accepted the bread and said she had really come over for a chat, if Aurora had time. They made sure the bell over the door was working and retired to the sitting room behind the shop.

“I’m glad you came over today,” Aurora said. “Some good news to report. At least, I hope you’ll think it good news, and I did for your sake.”

“They’ve found the truth of what happened to Donald?” said Lois anxiously.

Aurora shook her head. “No, I had a visitor about half past nine this morning, and could not believe my eyes when I saw Joan Whatsit—you know, Gran’s friend—struggling out of her car and into the shop with two heavy canvas bags. Brigham Jewellery bags! Seems these starter packs had been delivered to Gran and Joan, paid for, and were now returned to me as they had decided not to go ahead with our scheme! I remembered what you asked me to do, Lois, and so I am now reporting that they are completely unconnected with our jewellery.”

“Thank the Lord for that,” said Lois. She almost asked Aurora if she would give the two their money back, but thought it would seem a bit ungracious, when there was probably a no-return clause in the scheme.

“I shall certainly return their payments,” Aurora said, mind reading. “We don’t usually, but it is the least I can do in return for all your kindness.”

Lois leaned forward and patted her arm. “You’re a star, Aurora,” she said. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am, and I know they’ll be grateful, too. I think it was my mum’s fault, getting carried away with the glamour of running a jewellery business!”

“It is far from glamorous,” said Aurora. “There’s an awful lot of work involved. Sometimes Donald would come back from one of his selling trips absolutely exhausted.”

And I know why, thought Lois. But she said, “And what about you? How are you going to manage two businesses at once?”

Aurora smiled. “Ah ha! Let me show you my secret weapon!”

She walked to the foot of the stairs and called. “Milly? Can you come down for a second?”

This was followed by light steps, and a girl with long, jet-black hair stood before them, smiling fondly at Aurora.

“This is my daughter, Milly,” Aurora said. “She has decided to take a year off from her nursing to help me pull things together. I am so pleased, as you can imagine, Lois. Perhaps we can get our daughters together? Lois’s daughter, Josie, runs Farnden Village Shop, Milly, and is married to a policeman.”

“I’d love to meet her,” Milly said. “At the moment I am trying to help Mum as much as possible, so we can come to terms with my father’s shocking death. Have you known us long, Mrs., er . . . ?”

“Meade,” said Lois. “Long enough to admire your mother’s courage and determination,” she said.

The girl disappeared back upstairs, and Aurora smiled proudly. “Lovely, isn’t she?” she said. “It will be great to have her help, though I am determined she shall go back to nursing after a year. By then, I shall be firmly settled, and I might even take a short holiday! Do you fancy a girls’ weekend away, Lois?”

“Sounds nice, but not at the moment. Maybe later.” She nearly said that she had a husband who would want to be with her if they had time to spare, but remembered in time. It was going to be difficult for quite a while not to be cruel or tactless, but she trusted Aurora would know no hurt was intended.