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Authors: Ann Purser

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BOOK: Threats at Three
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“Where? Who is it?”
“Him, over there. Adstone, that’s his name. Gavin Adstone, with his wife, Kate. She’s all right, but he’s a real know-all. Treats us all like country bumpkins. He’s on Dad’s SOS committee, unluckily for Dad.”
“Not taken to him, then, Josie? I expect he’s harmless enough,” he said, and began explaining the function of a hoodlike piece of equipment apparently lined with gigantic shirt buttons.
SEVEN
A
S THEY ALL MADE THEIR WAY TO THE CAR PARK, JOSIE announced that she would go back to Farnden with Matthew. They were both effusive in thanking Douglas for organising the outing, and Josie said she intended to give the centre some publicity by pinning details to the shop notice board.
“That’ll certainly up the attendance figures,” said Douglas with a straight face. “Mind how you go, Matt,” he added. “Won’t do for a policeman to be caught speeding!”
Matthew Vickers sighed. How many times had this been said to him? But he was a good-humored soul, and smiled dutifully. “Precious cargo,” he said. “I shall be extra careful.”
“Blimey, our Josie’s a precious cargo, is she?” muttered Derek to Lois. “Getting serious, d’you reckon?”
“Hope so,” said Lois. “Time Josie got wed.”
“Mum! I heard that,” Douglas said, as he started the engine. “Don’t push. Best way to put them off, that is.”
They turned out of the car park, and this time they took no wrong turnings but drove steadily down a mercifully quiet M1 motorway. Conversation consisted entirely of an exchange of views about the centre, what they had liked best, what they’d missed. The general consensus was that it was a great day out, and they’d certainly go again soon.
Harry’s head soon drooped, and he was asleep.
“Look, Doug,” Susie said, turning round from the front seat. “He’s smiling, bless him.”
“Probably dreaming of walking in space,” Douglas said.
They were silent for a while, and then Lois said, “Hey, Derek, isn’t that Gavin Adstone and family?”
A large black car with darkened windows sped past them. “Idiot driver going too fast to be sure. Must be doing at least a hundred,” said Derek.
“And with a child aboard! And if you don’t mind my mentioning it, Doug, you’re doing eighty yourself,” said Susie.
“Could you see
two
men?” persisted Lois.
“Give it a rest, Sherlock,” said Derek, and settling himself comfortably, he closed his eyes.
EIGHT
M
ONDAY MORNING, AND JOSIE STOOD AT THE SHOP WINDOW, looking up and down the street, wondering if any customers were likely to appear. She opened up every morning at eight o’clock, though she had to be on duty much earlier to take in and sort the post. This morning, apart from one or two early birds who came in for a newspaper, she had sold nothing.
It was half term, of course, and there wouldn’t be the usual kids who came in for unhealthy snacks before the school bus came along. In spite of their daily fix of chocolate bars and cans of sweet drinks, they all looked rosy-cheeked and healthy to her. The only one who was pale-faced and had a persistent cough was a girl from Blackberry Gardens whose parents were strict vegetarians. Josie hoped she was able to stuff herself with sausages at school dinners.
A woman came hurrying out of the house opposite. Josie retreated behind the counter, and saw it was Paula Hickson from across the road. “Morning!” she said. “Children all at home this week, I suppose?” She thought the woman looked even more harassed than usual, poor thing.
“Well, the twins and little Frankie are at home,” Paula said. “Only one missing is Jack Jr. Staying over with a friend in Tresham. Rang me this morning.”
“That’s nice,” Josie said. “He’s quite a big lad, your Jack. I expect he misses living in town with all his friends.”
Paula nodded. “I worry about him, though,” she said. “I’ve got no idea who his friends are, or where they live. If anything happened . . .” She trailed off, and took a packet of biscuits off the shelf. “Better get back,” she said. “I left the twins minding Frankie. Not legal, I know, but I can see the house from here.”
Josie handed over her change and frowned. “You can always give me a ring and I’ll pop over with whatever you need,” she said.
“Thanks,” Paula said. She started towards the door, then stopped and turned back. “You don’t know anybody wanting cleaning done, do you? I’ve got to get some extra money, what with Jack Sr. not contributing. He’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Josie said. “But how would you manage with the baby still so young?”
“I was told the local nursery would take him two days a week. I’d get help from Social Services for that. Then with the twins staying for dinner at school, I could do quite a few hours. Anyway, if you hear of anybody . . .” She looked anxiously at her house over the road and began to open the door.
“Just a minute,” Josie said quickly. “My mum might be able to help. She runs New Brooms, the cleaning business. Shall I ask her?”
Paula’s face cleared. “Could you? It’d be ever so good of you. I’m a good worker, you can tell her. Got references, an’ all. Paula Hickson’s the name. Better get back, an’ thanks.” She ran across the road and into her house. As she opened the door, Josie could hear screams, and hoped the twins hadn’t thumped the baby.
Were children really such a good idea? Josie was well aware she had a pleasant, well-organised life, devoted to her shop and able to manage her own time as she liked. Matthew was certainly more attentive than ever, and she had the feeling that any minute now the question might be popped. Well, perhaps it would be best to give Mum a ring about a job for Paula and let true love take its bumpy course.
 
 
LOIS WAS IN HER OFFICE WHEN JOSIE PHONED. GRAN HAD JUST brought her a cup of coffee, and she had settled down with her computer. New Brooms team would be meeting here at noon, and she had a morning’s work to do organising schedules and other admin that had piled up during the week.
“Hello, love. All well?”
“O’ course. Nothing earthshaking has happened since I saw you twelve hours ago. No, this is a business call. You know that woman who’s moved into Pickerings’ house? Mother with four children. Tearaway teenager, lively twins, newish baby. Needs money.”
“Yep,” said Lois, checking her emails while she listened. She knew what was coming, anyway. “So have I got a job for her?” she said.
“Exactly. So
have
you?”
“I’ll certainly have a talk to her. She seems a nice woman, with a lot on her plate. I’ll call and see her. I presume she’s worked out some free hours?”
“When can you go?”
“Tomorrow afternoon? Say about two o’clock. Will that suit?”
“Yep. I’ll slip across and tell her. It’s half term, so all the kids will be there. Still, could be a good thing. You’ll see the real Paula!”
Lois smiled as she went back to her computer. Soft-hearted Josie! Who would’ve thought when she was a troublesome teenager that she would turn out to be a good businesswoman with a heart of gold. She was a captive audience for villagers who wanted a listening ear, and always had some words of advice or comfort, even when she was dog tired. Still, Lois thought as she returned to the week’s cleaning schedules, it was good business sense to be a cheerful, sympathetic village shopkeeper. Few people had the nerve to come in just for a chat. They almost always bought something, and although most of the village did their big weekly shop in Tresham supermarkets, if Josie had a welcoming smile and the right kind of stock, she could just about survive.
On the dot of twelve, a knock at the door heralded Hazel Thornbull, office manager of New Brooms in Sebastapol Street, Tresham. “How’s the family?” Lois asked. Hazel had been with her a long time, and would be difficult to replace. Only one child so far, and no talk of another.
“Fine,” Hazel said. “Has Derek told you I’ve been co-opted on to his village hall committee? I must be mad. A poisoned chalice if ever there was one.”
“What d’you mean?” said Lois.
“Well, you know these village committees. Most of the time spent arguing and not much achieved. There’s already a split in the ranks, with that Gavin chap trying to take over. Still, your Derek is a match for him. I’ve always thought Derek was a mild man, but apparently not!”
“Tell me more about Gavin Adstone,” Lois said, but there was another knock, and then all the others came at once and settled down for the meeting.
After the usual business had been dealt with, and before they got up to leave, Lois said she had something else to discuss with them. “There’s this single mum in the village,” she said, and explained about Paula Hickson. “Anybody know anything about her?”
They shook their heads and Sheila Stratford, one of the original members of the team, asked where she came from. When Lois told her, she said she supposed she’d be one of those girls who get themselves pregnant to avoid having to work for a living. Lois explained that Paula Hickson had had a husband who had done a bunk, and that with four children she was still keen to earn some money for herself and not rely wholly on the state.
“Anyway,” Lois added, “I’m going to see her this afternoon, but I’d be glad if you would ask around and see if there’s anything I should know. Thanks a lot. I’ll keep in touch, as usual.”
They left chattering to each other, but Floss lagged behind. “Mrs. M,” she said. “Have you got a minute?”
Lois pointed to a chair, and said she always had time for the team.
“I don’t know if I should say this,” Floss began, “but I was talking to Kate Adstone. You know she’s got that little toddler, and seems a bit lonely. I asked her round for coffee, just to be friendly, and she was pathetically grateful!”
“Very neighbourly of you,” Lois said, looking at her watch, “but what has this got to do with New Brooms?”
“Nothing,” Floss said. “But it has got something to do with Derek’s SOS committee. The subject came up, and I don’t think she connected me with you or Derek. She was saying that Gavin had come home laughing his head off at the committee. A load of no-hopers, was what he had said, apparently. Kate said he had big plans for the village hall, but they certainly weren’t those of Derek Meade’s committee. Then she looked a bit guilty, as if she shouldn’t have told me.” She looked anxiously at Lois. “I just thought you should know. Maybe tell Derek, so’s he can be prepared?”
Lois nodded wearily. “You did the right thing,” she said. “I reckon Save Our Shed is going to Blight Our Lives for a good while. Thanks, Floss. Anything else you hear, report back to me.”
NINE
N
EXT MORNING DOUGLAS AND SUSIE WERE SITTING AT THE breakfast table, encouraging a reluctant Harry to eat his porridge. “What time did you say you were going?” Susie said, looking at the clock that had been presented to her old granddad when he retired from the railway station in Tresham. He’d been so proud of it, and of his medal pinned on him by the great cigar-smoking leader when he came by train to visit the town. Both house and medal were now Susie’s, left to her in old Clem’s will, and she and Douglas had “knocked through” to the house owned by Lois next door, making a good-sized home in Gordon Street for the newlyweds and their firstborn.
BOOK: Threats at Three
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