back in Long Farnden by twelve. That gave them a good hour to meet the others and sort out any changes needed for the coming week.
It was a beautiful spring morning, blue sky and puffs of cloud sailing on the wind, and when Lois drove out of the village and along the Dalling road, it was some while before she noticed the big car with darkened windows cruising along behind her at a discreet distance. She felt a nasty jolt, like touching an electric fence. She was certain it was the Gorilla, but could not see if the Murphy woman was with him. What to do? It was a narrow road, with high hedges on either side, and nowhere to turn off. She put her foot on the accelerator, and the old car responded slowly. As it gathered speed, Lois steered with one hand and fumbled for her mobile phone with the other. Blast! Why was her handbag so full of junk? She tipped the whole thing upside down, narrowly missing a wandering sheep. She dialled Cowgill’s number, and when he answered, said tersely, “Lois here. Being followed by Gorilla and possibly Murphy. Road to Dalling. Can you get here?”
He wasted no time, but said, “On the way. Don’t panic,” and was gone.
¦
Hazel Reading had gone early to Tresham to pick up some cleaning for her mother, and was travelling fast in her little VW to be at the hall on time. Lois was a devil about punctuality, and Hazel was still wary of her sharp tongue. No doubt about Lois being boss, she thought. Funny how people grew into their jobs. Mind you, Lois Meade had always been bossy! Hazel knew her mum had sometimes resented things Lois had said in the past, but she had been the one they’d turned to for support. And Hazel had seen how Lois’s authority had worked in meetings when Gary Needham had got uppity. Yep, she’d better get a move on, else there’d be trouble. She increased her speed, swung round a corner, and came upon a big black car with darkened windows filling the road in front of her.
The VW did its best to respond to the brakes, but Hazel realized too late that she couldn’t stop in time. By the time she’d whacked into the black car’s rear end with a nasty thump, she had braced herself for the impact. She heard ominous sounds of tinkling glass on the road and sighed. God, of all mornings…
The door of the big car was flung open, and an enormous man got out. His head was shaved and in his dark glasses he was very menacing. “What the bloody hell!” His voice was loud and furious, and Hazel cursed to herself. She stayed in her car, waiting for the man to come up. Then she saw the passenger door open, and a woman walked over quickly towards them. At the same time, she glimpsed an old brown car driving off at speed, soon leaving them behind. Was it Lois? Blimey, she might have stayed to help. Still, Hazel had no doubt that she could cope.
“So,” she said, as the unattractive pair leaned down to knock angrily on her car window. She opened it, and stared at them. “Well,” she began, “if ain’t Ms Murphy and Minder Tony…Can’t think of anyone I’d rather bash into. You’d better give me a hand clearing up the glass.”
But after delivering an angry kick that dented the VW’s already blemished bodywork, the big man allowed himself to be dragged away by Joanne Murphy, who yelled at him, “We’ll lose her, Tony, for God’s sake!” They sped off, leaving Hazel to brush away the broken glass as best she could.
¦
Lois drove into the hall car park and turned off the engine. Sod it! She was sure it had been Hazel’s car, and knew she should have stopped to make sure she was all right. But self-preservation was a stronger instinct, and now she sat shaking in her seat, trying to pull herself together. Then she saw Cowgill’s car cruising in. He parked next to her, and got out, looking round carefully before approaching her.
“I got away,” she said. “They were run into by a car behind them. I’m pretty sure it was Hazel, but if you go back along that road you’re bound to see them. Check Hazel’s OK, too.”
To her surprise, Hunter Cowgill shook his head. “I saw them,” he said. “Just coming along as I turned in here. I think they were coming in after you, but then they saw me and changed their minds.”
“But Hazel?” said Lois anxiously.
“Ah yes,” he said, “Hazel Reading. Yes, well, I think it’s time I told you about Hazel Reading. Can you meet me in the woods – half past two? We’d better have a chat, but not here.”
? Terror on Tuesday ?
Twenty-Six
Lois was puzzled. What on earth could Cowgill mean? There surely was nothing he could tell her about Hazel. Lois had known her since the day she arrived, premature and squealing like a piglet, in the hospital in Tresham. Bridie had doted on her and Lois had feared that the tiny girl would be smothered with protective love. But both she and Bridie had reckoned without Hazel’s iron constitution and bloody-mindedness inherited from her father. She had been determined and competitive at school, and had stood up to her father’s excesses since the day when, at three years old, she had bitten his leg as he made to slap Bridie round the face. No, there was nothing Cowgill could tell her about Hazel. More likely the other way round! As a young teenager, Hazel had had several unsuitable boyfriends – skivers, too old, or loafers who had money from mysterious sources, etc, etc – and several times Lois had warned her when her father was on the warpath. But then, you never knew with other people’s children. And teenagers could be very secretive, very adept at covering up what they did not want known.
Lois got into her car after a hard morning’s work and drove home, looking nervously and more frequently than usual in her rear-view mirror. But no big car with darkened windows followed her, and she arrived home to find the others waiting for her outside the house. She had said nothing to Hazel about the crash, and Hazel hadn’t mentioned it. She’d decided to find out what Cowgill had to say first.
“Late again, Mrs M,” said Gary, teasing, but nevertheless standing back politely to allow her through the gate.
“Shut up, Gary,” said Lois shortly, and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged. She saw him and Hazel exchange glances, and wondered again how well they knew each other. “Now then,” she said when they were settled, “we have a new client – Mrs Betts, schoolhouse at Waltonby – ”
She stopped as Hazel suddenly choked and had to be thumped on the back before recovering. “Sorry, Mrs M,” Hazel said.
“As I was saying, then, Mrs Betts needs someone urgently, and Sheila has agreed to take her on. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as it’s not a big house. Built by the squire when he thought his tenants needed educating. Smallish rooms, been modernized. Any comments?”
Once again, Hazel and Gary looked at each other knowingly, and this time Lois said, “If you two have something to say, please say it. That’s what we’re here for, to give us a chance for a chat. Come on, Hazel, what is it? Something to do with Prue?”
Hazel shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Mrs Betts always seems a nice enough woman, and Prue’s OK now. Goin’ off to university in the autumn.”
“And Mr Betts?” said Lois, hoping Sheila wouldn’t jump in here.
Hazel shook her head. “Not my cup of tea,” she said, and hesitated. Then, of course, Sheila began her story of the old woman and the stroke, and the discussion became general.
After a few minutes, Lois said, “Well, we’ll give it a try, and I shall keep a close eye on everything.” Not much forthcoming there, she thought, as they carried on with other matters. Gary was quieter than usual, but that could have been because of the snub she’d administered.
They all left cheerfully enough, and then at the gate Gary said, “Oh blast, left my notebook in your study, Lois!” He walked back with her into the house, and recovered it.
“You all right, Gary?” said Lois tentatively.
He nodded. “More or less,” he said, and then added, “it’s just that you’ve been a bit off with me lately, and I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong. I know I shouldn’t have been reading the doctor’s papers, but that wasn’t exactly a serious crime…” He tailed off lamely, looking down at his hands.
And what about you being buddies with Joanne Murphy? thought Lois. And what’s goin’ on at the theatre behind the scenes? And, for that matter, what’s goin’ on between you and Hazel? She said only, “Don’t be silly, Gary, there’s nothing wrong. Had a lot on my mind recently. Just as long as your work is satisfactory, and there’s no more leaving taps on, I’m quite happy.” He left her then, but the atmosphere between them was far from warm.
